Things are picking up with Sam and Emily! Enjoy this chapter, it's one of my personal favorites!

Disclaimer: Not SM & I don't own Twilight

February 2, 2009 - week 14

The alarm went off, blaring the radio as I pulled the pillow over my head and sank into the blankets.

"Sam!" I groaned, turning over and hitting him on the shoulder. "Sam!" The alarm wasn't supposed to wake me up, too. I wanted my sleep in the morning.

He jumped out of bed, letting a gust of cold air seep under the covers. "Sorry, I'm sorry. I forgot to turn it down."

Sam shuffled over to the dresser, where I had placed the alarm to make sure he got up in the morning, and flicked it off. "I have to leave, but try to go back to sleep."

"Right," I sighed, flipping over again. "That's going to happen."

"I really am sorry, Em." He leaned down and kissed me, as if that would make it all better.

I kissed him back automatically. "I know, I know."

He pulled away, brushing my cheek with his rough, warm hand, and left to jump in the shower. He was off to the store; he had a delivery of mulch to make early this morning. I only worked afternoons at the local bookstore, so I was entitled to a few more hours of sleep that I desperately needed.

The months flew by faster than I cold have imagined. Considering all the sleeping I did nowadays, it's not surprising that time had passed by me so quickly.

I was near the end of my third month of pregnancy, which meant that I felt like I had the flu every waking minute of the day, had heartburn that felt like my whole chest was on fire and, more than anything else, I was exhausted. I slept until nine in the morning most days, and then napped when I returned home at six. Sam made his own dinner now, and the pack tended to stay away on weekdays. Leah and Mrs. Clearwater stopped by whenever they could, asking if they could do anything to help, and my mother called every other day. Everyone was doing the most they could to make this a joyful time for me, but I was hopelessly cranky.

Twenty minutes and zero sleep later, I turned over again, and my stomach flipped with me. I lurched up in bed, flinging off the blankets, and stumbling to the bathroom. Sam was standing in his boxers at the sink.

"Move!" I rasped, and he slid over to let me through.

"Emily? You okay?" He hurried behind me, placing his hands on my shoulders as I leaned over the toilet and was horribly sick.

I brushed my teeth afterwards, and washed my face. "I'm fine, sorry."

Sam stroked my hair when he passed by to find his clothes. "Don't apologize."

I followed him out of the bathroom and collapsed onto the bed again, pulling the blankets over me and curling up inside them. I couldn't sleep without being overly warm, a side effect of sleeping next to Sam for three years.

I closed my eyes, wishing for a miracle that would allow me to sleep for a little longer, but it didn't come. I groaned each time I looked at the clock, finally hauling myself out of bed at eight, and getting to the chores.

The laundry for the two of us wasn't much, especially considering the time that Sam spent without a shirt on, but when I looked up, it was close to nine. I found myself with an hour that I didn't usually have, and knowing that Sam had eaten peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for the last few evenings, I made a casserole and put it in the freezer for dinner. After cleaning up the kitchen, I showered for work.

Thankfully, I made it through my shift without another nausea episode. Prior to my pregnancy, I had worked the coffee counter in the small bookstore, but recently the smell of hot milk and cinnamon was making me gag. The manager had graciously let me swap places with the register girl, so my trips to the bathroom were less frequent now.

All I could think about when I got home was how lovely it would feel to lay down on the couch with a blanket and the TV on in the background as I slept. Hurrying to reach my goal of sleep, I sorted through laundry in the basket and placed it in piles on the bed as I put it away. I had the radio on and was singing along, touching my swelling stomach every so often as I swayed back and forth to the music.

Suddenly, the doorbell rang, surprising me. I dropped the pile of clothes in my hand back onto the bed. "Coming!" I called, and hurried to get the door.

Leah was there, a stack of paper invitations in hand, and smiling. "Hey, Emily. Sam said you would be home."

I waved her inside. "How are you today, Leah? Anything new?"

"Invitations. I brought twenty samples that match your colors, and I thought you could look them over." She passed me the pile of papers, all varying shades of purple and green.

I headed over to the couch, sitting and tucking my legs beneath me. "Come and sit with me." I flipped through the pile, pulling out a few that I thought had potential.

She crossed the kitchen and entered the living room, folding herself onto the open side of the couch and looking at the pile of invitations I was setting aside. "That one is my favorite." She pointed to a lavender and sage combination, with deep violet type and a simple font. I picked it up again, holding it in the light.

"I like this one, too," I mused, putting that one down and pulling out another invitation from the pile. It was essentially the same colors, but there was a dried, pressed purple flower under the text, which was green instead of violet. "Can I ask Sam and get back to you?"

"Yeah, that's fine. Whatever you want. Do you need the rest of these?" She motioned toward the other samples.

I shook my head. "All those pastels would make Sam cringe. Better that I only show him what he needs to see."

We both laughed, the atmosphere relaxing a bit and both of us lounging back into the soft cushions of the couch. "How is everyone?" I asked, "I haven't seen them in awhile."

"Oh, well, Jake spends most of his time with the Cullens and Nessie, as you can imagine. You should see her, Emily, she looks like a six year old already. She is growing so fast." Leah extended her hand about three and a half feet off the ground, in an example of Nessie's height. "Jake tries to spend as much time with her as possible. He and Quil bring the girls together for playdates sometimes, you know?"

I thought of Nessie and Claire together, how adorable they would be. "We should talk to the boys about getting them to be my flower girls. They would be so cute."

Leah agreed, "Claire absolutely loves Nessie, I'm sure she'd be happy."

We fell into easy conversation, Leah commenting on how Seth was slacking off in school, and me offering to have Sam straighten him out, chatting about the wedding and our mothers - Leah even asked about the baby and how it felt to be pregnant. It felt wonderful to have my old friend back, and I was grateful that she seemed able to put the past behind us. We always had so much fun together, joking and laughing; I hated not having her in my life.

When my eyelids drooped and I let out a yawn, Leah giggled. "Maybe I should go and let you take a nap." She got off the couch and moved to collect her things, slipping on her shoes and shoving the rest of the invitations in her purse to take home.

"Thanks for coming over with the invitations, Leah, you've been such a help!" I called, staying on the couch and pulling a blanket over my feet.

"Don't worry about it. Get some rest, and I'll see you later this week!" She waved and then let herself out, closing the door behind her. As soon as she was gone, I let my head rest on the arm of the couch and curled into a ball. The comfort and warmth soon lulled me to sleep.

My eyes flew open, unfocused and hazy, when the door closed again. The first thing they landed on was the clock; it was almost eleven. I sat up slowly, brushing hair out of my eyes and stretching my arms.

"Sam? Is that you?" I asked, still groggy and finding it hard to shake the sleepy haze. My heart was beating incredibly fast, probably from the quick wake up.

Stepping out of the kitchen, Sam made his way to the couch. "Hey, Em. I was trying not to wake you." He reached out to brush more hair off my forehead, but paused. "You're kind of... clammy... are you feeling okay?"

I scowled. "I'm feeling fine." I threw off the blanket and wiggled my legs off the couch, standing slowly. "I made dinner for you, it's in the freezer. I'll go heat some up." I was a little lightheaded, and my legs were shaky. I stumbled, almost falling to my knees, but Sam caught me.

"Emily?" Sam sounded concerned.

"I'm fine!" I snapped, shaking his arm off. "Go sit down."

He sighed, and rigidly sat in my place on the couch, still watching me out of the corner of his eye. I moved into the kitchen, pulling a plate out of the cabinet. I scooped a heap of cold casserole onto the plate and placed in the microwave. I leaned against the counter, still feeling weak and shaky, and watched the plate revolve.

My stomach rumbled when the microwave pinged; I reached out my hand to open the door and realized that it was shaking. I could feel my knees buckling, and my upper body was slipping off the counter almost as if in slow motion. I hit the floor with a hard thud, my head slamming into the wooden cabinet, making a terrifying cracking noise.

My vision went blurry, and Sam was a looming blob as he rushed to my side, having heard my collapse from the other room.

"Emily! What's wrong?" He cradled me in his arms, turning me so that my sore head was in the crook of his elbow. "What can I do, Em?"

I blinked until I could see him clearly. His eyes were full of worry and terror, one of his hands moved to rest against the bump on my stomach. I coughed to clear my throat. "Call Dr. Echler," I instructed. I had to be stay calm, I reminded myself. Freaking out wouldn't help anything.

Sam jumped up, grabbing the phone off the hook and hurrying to sit back at my side. He dialed quickly, having to hang up a few times because his large fingers hit extra buttons. Finally, I heard the other line ring. Someone picked up after two rings, and Sam spoke frantically. "My pregnant wife just collapsed, is there anyone I can talk to?"

"14 weeks along. No, she is awake... hold on," he shot me a worried look, "Em, are you bleeding?"

Not trusting myself to stand, I unzipped my pants and touched the outside of my underwear. Finding them dry, I shook my head, relieved. "No, I'm not bleeding."

"She's not bleeding... well," he had a calculating expression on his face, "she was clammy a few minutes ago, her hands are shaking..." Sam stopped and a calm expression came over his face. He pulled the phone away from his ear and asked me, "When was the last time you ate something, Em?"

Realization dawned. I hadn't eaten since before work this morning. I meant to eat something when I got home, but then Leah came over and I fell asleep. I felt unbelievably stupid and irresponsible.

Sam must have recognized the guilty look on my face, because he confirmed to the phone, "That's it. She hasn't eaten." He listened to a few instructions, and then thanked the person and hung up.

I didn't meet his gaze. Sighing, he got me a glass of Kool-aid from the fridge and pulled the plate of casserole from the microwave. Handing me a fork, he sat down next to me and watched me eat. When I was finished, he took the dishes and put them in the sink. Then, scooping me up in his arms, he carried me over to the couch and set me down.

"They want you to come in for the night, they'll do some tests, just to make sure everything with the baby is okay, and that you're alright." He sounded harsh, and a little angry.

"Sam," I began, but he cut me off.

"We can talk in the car, Em." He held up my coat, allowing me to slip my arms into it with ease, and slid my slippers on my feet. Then, taking his wallet and car keys, he picked me up and carried me out to the car. I could feel anger in his tense arms, and all I could think of was how badly I had messed up, and that it could have possibly cost my baby's life.

When we were driving down the empty road, lights on bright and silence dominating the car, he finally said, "Let's talk, Em."

I had been formulating several different openings in my head, and they all tried to come out at once. "I'm so sorry, and I know that's not enough - to be sorry - but I really am and I feel really stupid and I just hope the baby's okay and I'm sorry, and I don't think I can do this, Sam!"

He turned his head in shock, mouth slightly open, and ran a hand over his short hair. "Emily, it's okay, the baby is going to be okay, and you're safe. That's all that matters."

Upon hearing his gracious words, the floodgate of tears opened and I was suddenly sniffling. "I was s-so s-stupid, Sam. I just totally f-forgot to eat." I continued through the onslaught of tears and guilt, "and Leah w-was over, and we were finally t-talking, and then I fell as-sleep and I forgot. I'm sorry!"

He reached over and put his arm around me, letting me lean into his wide shoulder. "It's okay, Em. Dr. Echler just wants to do some extra tests, to be positive that it was just hypoglycemia."

I wailed into the seam of his shirt. "I'm g-going to be a t-terrible mother!"

Sam shook his head fervently, driving carefully through the dark night. "That's not true, Em. This little incident is no indication of how you're going to do as a mother. You're going to be fantastic." He gave my shoulders a squeeze, as if to reassure me, but I was stubbornly refusing to believe him. "Em, you're stressed out. You're tired. I understand."

The thing was, he didn't understand. He couldn't, as much as he wanted to. This was something that I had to do by myself, and it scared the hell out of me. I had never done something this hard by myself before. This baby was mine, and would always be mine. For the rest of our lives, we would be attached to each other. That kind of permanence was frightening.

I opened my mouth to try and convey some of these feelings to Sam, but stopped myself. He wouldn't understand what I meant by the baby being mine, because, of course, it was also ours. But the knowledge that someone - a little person - was growing inside of me gave me a feeling of possession. I would know this child better than anyone else ever would, because we had shared a body.

I closed my eyes, breathing in Sam's scent, and waited until we arrived at the hospital to open them again. Sam was gazing down at me, reading my eyes for clues to my feelings, but he didn't say anything, either.

I stepped out of the car on my own, not waiting for Sam to carry me, but he stuck me in a wheelchair anyway. He wheeled me through the doors of the building before telling me to stay put as he ran out to park the car. In minutes, he had returned, and we were headed off to the obstetrician's wing.

Leaving me by one of the chairs in the waiting room, Sam spoke softly to the woman at the counter. She handed him a pile of papers, and then came around the counter and began to push me away through the doors.

"Wait," I protested, looking back at Sam, who was also confused. "I want him to come with me."

The woman - Ginger, according to her name tag - tried to placate me with a smile. "I'm sorry, Miss Young, but he'll have to wait here until he finishes those forms. In the meantime, Dr. Echler wants to get started on some blood work." She continued to roll me away from the waiting room and towards the tall, grey doors. I put a hand down on the wheel to stop the chair.

"Are you sure he can't come with me? I don't like needles." I thought about this nurse poking me with a thin, silver stick, sucking out my blood into a small vial, and shuddered.

She kept the smile plastered on her face and shook her head. It was an odd combination. "No, say your goodbyes now."

Sam hurried over, captured my face in his hands, kissed me softly and said, "I'll be there soon, everything will be fine, you'll see." I pressed my lips together, nodding half-heartedly.

Ginger rolled me away as soon as Sam stepped out of her path, her shoes clicking ominously on the tiled floor.

&&&

The further I got away from Sam, the more worked up I became. Ginger was either very unobservant, or just trying not to interrupt my wallowing, because she said nothing as my breathing quickened and my eyes began to prick. When we arrived at the station for the blood work, an older, blonde nurse helped me out of the chair and into another one.

"Hello," she paused to check my chart, "Emily. How are you?"

I sniffled, a tear or two escaping my eye. "I hate needles." I eyed the needle on the small desk next to the chair warily.

She laughed; the sound was too loud for the small room. "Just don't think about it, and you'll be alright." She snapped on gloves, and I looked away as she tied a ribbon of rubber cord around the top of my arm. It pulled uncomfortably at my skin, hurting as it dug into the flesh there. Ginger was standing idly by the doorway, her arms and legs crossed casually. I looked at her plain white shoes while the other nurse told me to squeeze my hand into a fist and began to feel around my elbow.

"This will hurt a little, only for a moment."

I closed my eyes and held my breath. I felt the needle poke my skin, and keep going. At first, it was only a pinching feeling, but then it got worse and began to burn. I whimpered. Where was Sam?

"Oops! I missed. We'll have to try that again." She pulled the needle back out, and more tears leaked down my face.

By the third time she had tried to draw my blood, I was beginning to sob. Ginger kept passively smiling from the doorway while the other nurse apologized again and again. When she had finally sucked out three tiny vials of dark red blood, I was passed back to Ginger, who proceeded to roll me back down the hallway toward the waiting room.

Thinking Sam was going to be out there, I stifled my tears and wiped at my eyes, tried to smile and let him know that I was "going to be okay." Yet, when she pushed the doors open and wheeled me out into the room, it was empty. Left alone, scared, and in pain, the tears began all over again.

This time, Ginger looked patronizingly down at me and snipped, "Now, now, stop that crying."

Not meaning to be a bother, I bit down on my lip and held back the sobs. I didn't know where Sam had gone, but I hoped that he knew where I was headed so he could find me there. I asked shyly, "Did someone tell my fiancé where to go?"

She patted my shoulder as she pushed me into an elevator with another nurse holding the door. "I'm sure they did, sweetie, he's probably in your room right now."

I tried to calm myself, repeating in my head that they were the professionals, they knew what they were doing, don't question them. The door opened with a ping, and I was promptly pushed down a hall with painted balloons on the walls, and big paper flowers on the windows. Ginger opened the door, pushing me into a brightly lit room, filled with three other women and a thousand beeping machines.

"Get into that bed," Ginger instructed, pointing to the last bed on the left, "and I'll get a nurse to come and hook you up." She snapped her gum, left the chair by the foot of the bed, and disappeared out the door.

It only took me a moment to realize that Sam wasn't here. In fact, of all the women in the room, only one had a man sitting at her bedside. He was reading a sports magazine and looking up at the TV screen every few seconds. I sighed, and pulled my body out of the chair, putting a hand on the bed to steady myself. As soon as I wiggled my way under the thin blanket, a male nurse came bustling in.

"Emily Young?" he yelled into the room, looking at each woman's face. I raised my hand timidly, and he strode over to my bed, humming to himself as he attached an IV to my hand. I looked up at the ceiling to distract myself, but the pinch of the needle made me gasp.

"You alright, miss?" he asked, not looking at me, but instead, at my chart. He muttered something under his breath, and didn't listen to my response.

Finally, when he had started the IV, he turned to me. "Anything I can get you?"

I frowned, "No." He moved to walk away, but I continued. "But you sure as hell can answer a few questions."

He stopped and turned on his heel, facing me again. "Yes?"

I pointed to the IV, "What is this stuff?"

"Just a sugar solution, miss. You've been admitted because you collapsed due to low blood sugar, am I correct?" he chuckled.

"What tests are they running on my blood?"

He sighed, and looked at the chart in his hand. "Well, they hadn't done any screenings yet, so they're running both of those, and some glucose tests for the hypoglycemia... it's all pretty routine." He shrugged.

That didn't explain much to me, but I was more concerned about where Sam was. "Did anyone tell my fiancé where to find me?"

"Who knows? It's pretty busy here tonight." He was bluntly honest, and it made me angry.

I crossed my arms. "And when am I going to see Dr. Echler?"

He got defensive, holding my chart in front of his chest. Now, the whole room was watching our exchange. "Look, I have no idea. Like I said, it's busy here tonight and she has a lot of patients to see - most of whom have more pressing problems than low blood sugar. You'll see her as soon as she has a minute." He turned and stormed out of the room, leaving me stunned, and my eyes brimming with stinging tears.

I tried to relax into the bed, but it was hard and awkwardly positioned so that I couldn't rest my head. I also had to pee pretty badly, but was hooked up to the damn IV. I watched TV for awhile, but after thirty minutes of bouncing my legs up and down to control my bladder, I pushed the call button for the nurse.

Ten minutes later, the man showed up again, looking pissed. He glared at me icily. "Yes?"

I glared right back. "I have to go to the bathroom. Do you think you could untether me from this machine," I motioned toward the IV, "so I can pee?"

I heard the girl in the section next to me snort softly. I smiled, glad that someone found me amusing.

He grinned, "Sorry, but the IV has to go with you." He waited while I heaved myself out of the bed, and lowered my feet to the ground. Pushing the cart with the IV toward me, he pointed out the small door across the room. "Bathroom is that way."

I looked from him to the door, sighed, and slowly made my way across the floor. He was gone when I came back out, so I pushed the IV over to my bed, and crawled in, pressing my face into the lumpy pillow.

However, it seemed like an impossible place to get rest, because a few moments later, Dr. Echler blew in, lab coat fluttering behind her and pushing sleeves up to her elbows.

"Good morning, Emily. How is it that no one has you changed into a gown yet?" She tossed me a hospital gown and thrust shut the curtain around my section. "Get into that, please."

Confused for a minute, I kicked off my shoes and hurriedly unbuttoned my pants, pulling my IV uncomfortably in the process. Yanking off my shirt, I left my bra and panties on, and struggled to tie the strings in the back of the gown. I barely had time to bundle my clothes up on the table next to the bed before Dr. Echler had ripped open the curtain once again.

I noticed that she was drying her hands, and slipping on gloves. I raised my eyebrows in question.

"I am going to check your cervix, dear, just to make sure that your little episode did cause any problems. Because you're not bleeding, it's probably just me being overly cautious, but I'm going to check anyway. Lay back, please." She had a clipped, professional tone, and I didn't want to question her so I laid back before remembering that I still had my underwear on and sat up to shimmy those off as well. I placed them in the pile of clothes on the table.

She closed the curtain around my bed again, and asked me to place my feet in the stirrups on the bed. I looked up at the ceiling, trying to ignore her prodding. While I was otherwise focused, I heard the door of the room crash open.

"Emily?" Sam's voice boomed through the room.

Overjoyed, I called back, "I'm in here!"

I could hear his footsteps coming closer to my bed, but they stopped just outside the curtain.

"Sorry, sir, you can't go in there just yet." The male nurse said, stopping Sam in his path to me.

"Look, man," Sam started, his voice now thick with power and anger, "I have been led all over this damn hospital for the last hour, wondering where my fiancée was, and I find her and you're going to tell me that I can't see her?"

"Sam!" I exclaimed, but Dr. Echler shushed me from between my legs, as she continued to examine me.

"Emily, can I come in?" Sam asked, from behind the curtain.

"Of course."

The nurse protested, but Sam slipped around the fabric anyway, his eyes going wide with shock and fear when he saw my current position. "Emily, are you alright?"

The tears that I had managed to quell for the time being exploded all over again. "Oh, Sam, I was wondering where you were. I needed you."

He took one long step to reach my bed side, and picked up both my hands, being extra gentle with the one that had a needle stuck in it. "I'm here now."

Dr. Echler finally stood up, removing her gloves and throwing them away. "Everything looks fine. I'll look over the test results when they come back in a few hours and we'll talk more in the morning, okay?" She wasn't unkind, but obviously rushed and stressed.

I nodded, my eyes still locked with Sam's. She flung open the curtain, and left the room without another word.

Sam leaned down to kiss me. "Thank God I found you, Em. They had me going all over the place." He stroked my hair, caressing my scalp with his thumbs. "You needed me? Are you feeling better?"

"The nurse who drew my blood couldn't hit the vein - she stabbed me four times! And then they told me you would be here, but you weren't, and the IV burns, and the nurse is being horrible, and - Sam - I can't do this." I shook my head vigorously. "This whole place terrifies me."

Sam settled onto my bedside, still holding my hands. "It's only for one night, Em. Stay strong for me."

"I hate this. These people make me feel so... small." I tried to express my discomfort: the way the nurses treated me like a child, how Dr. Echler examined me without asking what I wanted, the nurse giving me medication without telling me what it was. "I feel powerless."

"You know," the woman in the section next to mine spoke up, leaning her head around the curtain separating us, "a lot of women feel the same way you do. You should think about a home birth."

Instantly, I was hit with various imagined scenarios, all including some crazy midwife who would insist that all the knots in the house be untied and feed me a home-brewed, sludgy concoction to speed the labor. "A what?"

The woman grinned warmly. "A home birth. I know it sounds scary now, but I promise that if you look into it, you won't be disappointed. It gives you so much more control over every aspect of your pregnancy and labor - it's wonderful. I did it with my first child, and I'm doing it again with this one."

"Is it safe?" Sam asked skeptically, always one to be concerned about my well-being.

She nodded. "As long as you have a good midwife who knows what they're doing, and are having a healthy pregnancy, there's no need to be in a hospital. In fact, hospitals can complicate the birth process. Do some research when you go home; it will astound you." She spoke so passionately about the subject, she immediately drew my attention. What she was describing sounded worth some thought.

"Okay, I'll think about it and do some research when I get home, thank you!" I beamed gratefully at her, glad that others had similar thoughts and feelings. I could tell from the look on Sam's face that he wasn't completely convinced, but when he saw my smile, he bit his tongue and let me enjoy the moment.

"You're very welcome." The woman lay back in her bed.

I lowered my voice and spoke quietly with Sam. "It deserves consideration, don't you think?"

"A home birth, Em? It sounds dangerous to me."

"Can we at least think about it? Not count it out just yet?" I asked, hopefully. "I think it sounds kind of nice."

Sam gave an exasperated sigh. "Sure, Em. Whatever you want. Can you try and get some sleep now, please? It's late."

"Thank you!" I squealed. Content in my victory, I snuggled into the bed, turning over so that I could put my head in Sam's lap.

He laughed, the throaty sound coming from deep in his chest. "Wait, wait, if you're going to sleep like that, I'm going to have to get more comfortable." He lifted me up and slid himself onto the bed, his bulky frame making the bed look tiny. When he had shifted around a few times, he put me back down between his legs, so that I could rest my head on his stomach. He wrapped his arms around my stomach, his hand splayed over our baby. He rubbed my stomach slowly and softly, and soon I was letting the hospital slip away, succumbing to sleep.

&&&

"Please, she's sleeping. Let her sleep," Sam hissed, under his breath. I fluttered my eyelids and stretched out my legs. "Never mind, I guess. You woke her up."

I lifted my head slowly. "Sam?" My eyes squinted against the harsh lights. "What time is it?"

Another voice answered my question. "It's 5:28 in the morning, and Dr. Echler needs to talk to you about your blood work." It was the male nurse again. I had never learned his name.

"Shit," Sam swore under his breath.

I sat straight up, yanking on the IV cord in my hand. "OW! Um..." I rubbed my hand, trying to soothe the hurt, and simultaneously process what he had said. "Is there something wrong?"

The man shrugged. "It seems like they found some elevated levels of something."

I tried to get off the bed, but I was trapped by Sam's legs. "What do I need to do?"

"Go down the hall to an exam room." He pointed in the general direction.

Sam put his hands on my shoulders, holding me in place as he slid off the bed. Then, he offered me his hand and helped me off as well. "Where are we going?"

"Follow me, please." He led us to a room down the hall to the right, and told me to get up on the bed, and that the doctor would be with us shortly.

Sam sat uncomfortably in a little plastic chair next to my bed, and wrung his hands. We both were worrying about the baby, we just worried in silence. I noticed the ultrasound equipment in the room and commented, "If they do an ultrasound today, they'll be able to tell the sex of the baby. Do you want to know?"

Sam's face brightened. "Of course I want to know!" Then, he paused and asked, "Don't you?"

"Yes!" I was never one for surprises, and I wanted to know as much about the baby as I could before he or she was born. I wanted to get to know this little person inside me as soon as I could.

"Okay then, we agree." Sam chuckled.

Dr. Echler knocked once before opening the door and stepping inside. She looked worn and tired as she examined my chart and papers in front of her. "Hello, Emily and Sam. We have some things to discuss this morning."

"Is there something wrong with my baby?" I blurted out.

She took off her glasses, and sat on the stool by the desk. "Well, we don't know that for sure just yet. You are showing elevated levels of AFP, which suggests an abnormality with the pregnancy, but your levels of hCG and PAPP-A are normal, so the abnormality is not a chromosomal one."

Sam's voice was heavy as he asked the question I couldn't get out. "So, what is it?"

Dr. Echler was honest. "I don't know yet, but that's why the ultrasound equipment is here. We're going to take a look before we make any assumptions."

I swallowed and nodded, willing to do whatever she wanted. I don't think that I had ever been so vulnerable. Not only was something wrong, but Sam and I were helpless, clueless and afraid.

Dr. Echler leaned out the door to call for a technician, and Sam leaned forward to grasp my hand. He stood, came over to my side, and pressed a kiss to my forehead. "Whatever happens, we're going to do it together, okay?"

I leaned into his chest, my eyes closed against him. I inhaled, letting his scent calm me. "I love you," I whispered.

He wrapped his arms around me for a moment, pulling me tighter. "Love you, too."

&&&

"Sorry, this is a little cold." The nurse spread blue gel across the bump in my stomach. She dragged the wand around, and as she moved it, grey images crackled across the screen.

The nurse peered at the screen intently. "You're okay, Emily." Sam whispered in my ear, seated in that chair that was too small for him, and clutched the arm rest so hard that his fingers were turning white.

The picture on the screen fluttered and swished. Finally, it came to rest and the swishing remained steady. Yet, if this was the heartbeat of my baby, it sounded wrong. It was too fast. And some of the beats... overlapped.

"Well, will you look at that?" Dr. Echler exclaimed. "This is why we do ultrasounds."

I tensed, and looked over at Sam desperately. "What's wrong?"

"Oh, nothing's wrong! In fact, it's good news." The nurse turned back toward us, the intense look on her face replaced by a grin.

Sam leaned forward, eager. "My baby's healthy?"

"Yes, sir, your babies are perfect." She grinned.

I choked up. "Babies? As in..."

Sam finished my sentence. "Two? There are two?"

The nurse nodded. "You're having twins."

"T-Twins?" Sam stuttered. "Boys or girls?"

"How far along are you?" She asked, and I wiped my eyes dry.

"Fourteen weeks," I half sobbed, half laughed.

She moved the wand around a few more times, and the image moved. "Well, let me look here."

"Did you hear that, Emily?" Sam leaned over and pressed kisses to my face. "There are two beautiful babies in there."

Dr. Echler explained, "The elevated levels of AFP were caused by the two fetuses. More babies mean more protein. Congratulations, both of you."

Suddenly, the nurse exclaimed, "Girl! Baby 1 is a girl!"

"You are so amazing. You are the most amazing person." Sam reached behind my head and lifted me to his face, kissing me wondrously.

I gasped against his mouth. "I love you, too, Sam."

"Oohh! Another girl!" I could hear the nurse making her discovery, but I was still kissing Sam. When he finally pulled away, the nurse was blushing a deep red. "Would you like a picture of your girls?"

"Yes! Yes, please," I said. "I want a picture."

Sam laughed, and held my shoulders while the nurse wiped the goo off my stomach. He rolled down my shirt when she was done, and then picked me up and spun me around, which made me nauseated all over again.

I danced around after he put me down, because I hadn't gone to the bathroom in hours. Dr. Echler took out my IV, saying, "I'm going to send you to see a nutritionist before you leave this morning," she checked her watch, "she should be here in the next two hours. No more of this low sugar crap, okay Emily? I want you eating six to eight healthy meals a day." She looked sternly at Sam. "I expect you to help remind her of what's healthy."

Sam laughed and agreed.

"Alright then, congratulations and I'll see you soon!" She whirled out of the door and moved on down the hall.

I hurried down the hall to the bathroom, and them Sam and I went back to the small bed we had spent the night in. He got in first, and then I crawled in on top of him, sitting the way we had when I slept.

"Twin girls," I muttered. "I'm having twin girls."

Sam kissed my head, smoothing my hair back. "We'd better tell my mother to make that dress bigger," he said, jokingly.

I groaned, but with a giant smile on my face, and smacked his arm.