I ran through the halls of Central, pushing everything and everyone who got in my way. Every second felt like and hour. Anticipation spread through me like wildfire. Why couldn't I run fast enough?!
When I finally got out of the building and into my car, I took a second to breathe. Anna was in labor at the hospital, our baby on its way about a month early. I shoved the key into the ignition at that thought, turning it with too much force. The car stuttered a bit, then was silent. I tried again, and again, and yet again until the engine came to life. Six minutes had passed.
I sped out of the parking lot, the streets in front of me empty. That is, until I got onto the main roads. Traffic was backed up horribly. I groaned with impatience. Inch by inch, the cars moved forward. I was about to jump out of my skin. My car horn busted I hit it so much. Twenty minutes later, I took the keys out of the ignition, and jumped out of the car. I ran to the sidewalk, and began the long run to the hospital.
It took twenty five minutes to get to the hospital. I spent about ten more minutes trying to find Anna's hospital room. I tried to walk in, but a nurse stopped me. It took three more nurses to convince me to listen to the first one. They said it would be better for Anna and the babies.
The babies. There was more than one!
I called Havoc to come wait with me. He was Anna's brother, so I thought it would be a good idea to invite him to see the babies. He was there next to me in half an hour. Havoc had even went back and gotten my car out of the highway. We both sat in chairs outside the room, anxiety eating at us.
"The nurse said there was more than one baby," I said, joy filling me once again. But it wasn't enough to drown out the worry. "That's great, Roy! But you're going to need an extra crib, aren't you?" Havoc replied. His voice was happy, but his face had hints of worry.
We had both heard the word "Hemorrhage" come from a nurse leaving Anna's room. And, because I had done research on things that could go wrong, I knew what it was. Also, I had explained to Havoc that Hemorrhage meant that Anna was bleeding a lot during labor. I even added that it could kill her if the child/children were not born quickly. I was regretting ever looking that up now. It was incredibly hard to stay in my seat and not burst through the door. It was almost painful not being at Anna's side as she went through the pain of childbirth. And Havoc was just as bad off as I was. Now imagine us both sitting in the hallway outside Anna's room. Imagine us, in the state we were in, having to hear Anna's screams of agony. Imagine us, who both loved Anna to death, being forced into uncomfortable plastic chairs, wondering if she would live to see her children.
Not a pretty picture, is it?
An hour ticked by. Then another. Then a nurse came out, told us that the Hemorrhage was under control, and slipped back inside. Then another hour ticked by on the clock across the hall. It was 1:30am. I started praying. I prayed that my Anna would be alright; that she would leave this place unharmed. I prayed that at least one of my children would live. I prayed that time would move faster. Then, the doctor and a nurse came out, each holding a baby. They were tiny, covered in blood. One was wailing like a siren, wiggling in the nurse's arms. It was as if he knew she wasn't his mother. The other was still, quiet. I knew that was bad. Every person with a brain knew what that meant.
I asked one of the nurses if I could go see Anna now. She opened the door for me and Havoc, both of us running to her side. She looked absolutely exhausted. Sweat plastered strands of her red hair to her forehead. She was breathing quickly, as if she had just ran a mile. The bedsheets were bloody. Anna's beautiful face was paler than usual. She was scared. My military girl, my wife who had been through war; my Anna who had been through shooting after shooting, tradgedy after tradgedy, was scared stiff, scared past the point of talking or taking her gaze off the door, because one of our children wasn't crying.
I felt the same way.
The nurse and doctor came back in, each still with the same babies. The one crying was wrapped in a little pink blanket. The quiet one was wrapped in a blue one. I heard Anna let out a long, depressed breath. I felt tears in my eyes swell up as I watched the doctor hand Anna the still baby. Tears flowed down her cheeks, hitting the blanket. It killed me more inside with every second I looked at my stillborn son.
Until one of Anna's tears hit him.
As soon as the small drop of water hit him, he began to wail and cry. Anna's face had never been so happy, so filled with joy. I had never felt so relieved or joyfull in all of my life. Havoc practically jumped into the air, whooping and hollering. Anna handed him back to the doctor, who shuffled back out of the room. The nurse handed us our baby girl, then followed the doctor.
"He's alive, Roy! Our baby boy's alive..." She said, her voice softening with the last few words. "I know! I'm so happy, Anna!" I said. She smiled her sweet, warm smile at me, then looked down at our daughter. She cooed at her, putting her finger next to her tiny hand. I watched as the small fingers clasped around Anna's index finger. I knelt next to the bed, and got close enough to really study my daughter. She had my black hair, a full head of it. She had Anna's cute little nose, and it was hard to desipher anything more than that. I smiled down at my baby girl.
"Can I hold her?" I pleaded. Anna ignored my request, and continued to talk in a high voice to the adorable child. I sighed, and put my finger next to her hand. She grabbed hold of it, holding tightly. I almost cried. Then they brought our boy in.
"He's just fine now," The doctor said, holding him out to Anna. She handed me our daughter, and carefully took the tiny boy into her arms. I had never seen her radiate so much happiness. Havoc peeked at our son, smiling as he came up. I went over to look at him myself. The tiny boy had little red hairs, and the same nose as his sister. I smiled, joyfull tears swelling in my eyes.
"Nathan. That's his name," Anna said, "It means 'God has given'. His name is Nathan Thomas Mustang." I smiled. She apparently had this all planned out. And I didn't argue with her. I liked the name. "You can name our daughter if you want, Roy," Anna offered. I nodded.
"Anya. It means favor; and I did pray for them to both be alive and all right. Anya Grace Mustang."
There were our children; mine and Anna's. Nathan Thomas Mustang and Anya Grace Mustang. The three dearest people in the world to me, all in one room. I smiled, and hugged all three of them, extremely carefully, at the same time. I now had a family. A family of four. Anna, Anya, Nathan, and me.
-
6 years later~
I stood there, watching my kids run around the back yard. My little Anya looked adorable in her little blue dress, her black curls bouncing as she chased her brother around the yard. Nathan had mud all over his blue t-shirt and his shorts. They were the cutest kids in the world, running around in our yard. As I stood there, watching them, I wrapped my arms around Anna from behind. I placed my hand right on her lower stomach, where our third child was growing. Anya and Nathat were excited about the new baby. Both of them had offered to move into the other's room so the baby could have his own room (we were currently building it on). I smiled.
"You excited, sweetie?" Anna said, her voice sweeter than sugar. I smiled, laughing a bit at the understatement.
"As anyone could ever be," I replied. Anya and Nathan ran over, seeming to sense that we were talking about the baby.
"I'm more ascited than you are, daddy!" Anya said, trying to fit her small arms around Anna's extended waist. It was so cute when she mispronounced words.
"I am, too, daddy!" Nathan said, hugging Anna's leg. Anna and I both laughed, the kids joining in a few seconds later.
Then the twins went off to play on their swingset. I watched them carefully, making sure neither one of them did anything dangerous. A was wrapped around theirs and Anna's fingers, and I wouldn't do anything to change that. I had a nice happy family. A family of four, and number five on the way.
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