I'm sure you all don't want to hear excuses, but the truth is that my life is spiraling out of my control. Everything is just...not working out. But despite the chaos, I've got you a new chapter. Hope you enjoy and please leave a review. That would really help right now.
Disclaimer: Don't own Harry Potter, as you all should very well know by now.
Chapter 8: Welcome, Baby!
"Ugh," I moaned, flinging my head back dramatically so that it hit the pillow.
"What's the matter, love?" Harry asked calmly, pulling out his pajama bottoms.
"I want this baby out!" I complained, rolling onto my side. It was July 14th, my due date, and all day I'd been waiting for my daughter to make an appearance. And I'm still pregnant. The only good news is, I get to get off bed rest. I've been walking all over the house today, just because I can.
"She'll come when she's ready, love," Harry replied softly, climbing into bed with me.
"Well, she needs to be ready now," I answered sourly. Harry smiled, then kissed my forehead gently but didn't answer. Grumpily, I grabbed the remote off the side table and pointed it at the strange contraption Harry claimed was a TV. I pressed a little white button. Nothing happened. I frowned at it, then remembered I needed to press the red button with the circle. So I did. Nothing happened.
"Are you pressing the right one, Ginny?" Harry asked, not looking up from the report he was reading.
"Yes! The red one with the circle, right?" I asked. He nodded. I stretched out my arm and pressed the buttons harder. Nothing happened.
"COME ON!" I screamed in frustration, banging it on the table. "WORK, YOU STUPID PIECE OF-oh!"
"What?" Harry asked, looking over at me.
"She kicked," I answered. "Harder than she normally does."
"Maybe that's a good sign," Harry replied, shrugging. "Maybe she'll be ready to come out tomorrow."
"Maybe," I muttered, my attention back on the TV. I pressed the buttons harder again, then got pissed off when nothing happened. After several fruitless attempts, I swore at the damn thing and chucked it across the room. It hit the wall and fell to the floor with a satisfyingly loud CLUNK.
"What the hell?" Harry asked, jumping. He'd become so absorbed in his report he failed to notice my troubles with the damn remote.
"It's being stupid," I snapped, rolling over on my side. "And I'm going to bed." I waved my wand and the lights turned out. I could sense Harry still sitting up, staring at the wall. And then he snickered. Just once. And then it became a full-blown laughing fit. I harrumphed and lectured him, but it had no effect. My final sentence to him that night was, "Well, I'm glad my pregnancy hormones amuse you so."
I woke quite suddenly, with a quiet gasp. I wondered what had caused my abrupt return to consciousness. I was quite warm and happy, laying on my side. I felt a gentle pressure on my bladder and got up to go to the bathroom. It was only as I sat up and pushed back the covers that I realized something: Harry and I's white linen sheets were covered with warm, red, sticky blood.
For the smallest space of a second I stared at it, not comprehending. Then I gasped and sat up straight, glancing down at my legs. Sure enough, my legs were covered with it. Oh, no. Oh, no, no, no. That wasn't good.
"Harry," I gasped, my voice hoarse. He groaned but didn't move. "Harry, I think there's something wrong with the baby!" I said, my voice growing louder. He stretched and yawned, but still didn't see what was happening. "HARRY THERE'S SOMETHING WRONG WITH THE BABY!" I screamed, and he woke up. His bemused eyes traveled from the stained sheets to my red legs, to my panicked face.
"Oh my God," he gasped, looking all around again. "Oh my God! Ginny, why the hell didn't you wake me up sooner?"
"Because I just woke up myself! You have to get me to the hospital now, this isn't right, this isn't natural! I should not be seeing so much blood!" I yelled. "Get me to St. Mungo's now!"
"But what about Connor and Lily?" he asked, already pulling on a T-Shirt. "They need someone to watch over them! We can't leave them here, they're Potter children!"
"And so is this!" I gasped, pointing at my stomach. "Harry, we've got loads of wards up, they'll be fine for five minutes! Get me to the hospital! Our daughter could be dying right now!" My words shake him, and he rushes around the room, grabbing my overnight bag and helping me slowly to my feet. We make our way across the landing and down the stairs before I feel it. Another gush has just oozed between my legs. I pause and look down, wondering...yes.
"Harry," I said, fighting to keep my voice calm. "My water just broke."
"Damn," he swore. "Alright. Come on." He helped me into the Floo and moments later, we were there.
"Excuse me, my wife needs help," Harry panted to the woman behind the desk. She looked up, startled, then saw the blood gushing from between my legs. Her eyes widened.
"Oh, that's not good," she muttered. "I'll page someone." She spoke urgently into a microphone sort of thing, and moments later, two men with a stretcher had appeared.
"We'll need you to hop onto this, Mrs. Potter. We're to take you straight to labor and delivery, where they'll check you out and make sure everything is OK." I nodded, rubbing my stomach gently. Please let her be OK, please let her be OK...
"Harry," I said firmly once they got us into the room. "You need to go to the Burrow and tell Mum to go over and sit with Lily and Connor. No arguing!" I added as he opened his mouth. "If one of them wakes up and goes into our room and sees the bed, they're going to have a heart attack. I promise everything will be fine here. Go. We have other children to take care of."
It takes some convincing, but he does leave, and a second later, the doctor walks in.
"Hello! Mrs. Potter?" she asks. I nod.
"That's me," I grimace as I feel a fresh wave of blood leak out.
"Oh, my, we're in quite the situation, aren't we?" she tuts. I grit my teeth to keep from making a sarcastic response. "Well, we'll just have to fix that, won't we?" She grabs a machine from the corner of the room and brings it over. Seconds later, that freezing cold gel is on my stomach and so is the tube. I gasp at what I see.
My uterus is so filled with blood that I can't see my daughter. Like, really. The whole screen is a giant blob of black.
"Oh my God," I whisper. "Is she still alive?"
"I don't know," the Healer answered quietly. "We're going to assume the best right now. I think she may have kicked the side of your uterus and done some damage, but I can't be sure. We're going to get you some drugs to induce labor. She should be here soon, for better or for worse."
"Please, try and find a heartbeat!" I beg of her. She removes the tube.
"I can try. But I'm going to get you the drugs first. Whether she is dead or alive, you are going to need serious help. As it is, you've lost far too much blood to be going into labor, but we don't have a choice. Mrs. Potter, I regret to inform you that there is a high chance you could be seriously injured during this labor. There is even a low percentage of death if your daughter is not born right away." I feel like my world is falling away as everything turns black.
When I reawaken, it's a few moments before I manage to open my eyes. But once I do, the first thing I register is the huge bump on my stomach. I'm still pregnant. For better or worse, the baby is still inside me. The second thing I register is a hand in mine.
"Hello, love. Welcome back," Harry said, and just by his tone, I can tell he's been crying. Which means they told him what they discovered.
"Harry...I-"
"No. Shh. Don't say anything," he whispered, putting a finger to my lips. I looked into his emerald eyes and I could see that they were bloodshot and red.
"Where are the children?" I asked anyways. "Are they OK? What time is it? What's been going on?"
"Lily and Connor are safe at home with Fiona. They are perfectly fine. The rest of your family is out in the waiting room, including Ron and Hermione. Rose and Hunter are with Fiona as well. She's watching all the children for us, bless her. It is three A.M. and all that's happened to you is that they gave you some drugs to induce labor. That was about a half hour ago, and the drugs should start taking effect fairly quickly," he reels off.
"And the baby?" I whisper. His expression instantly becomes guarded.
"They don't know. They want to treat this like a stillbirth, but they gave us a 10% chance of the baby surviving."
"And me?" I asked again, half afraid of the answer.
"They're worried about damage to your uterus, or internal bleeding. As soon as our daughter is born, they want to take you off to do some surgery. Right now they're just hoping the baby's alive and that she didn't rupture something important in you."
I let out a breath. Oh, boy. Why was there always something wrong with my pregnancies? First I had twins, then I lost the baby, and now I've been on bed rest and I might have lost the baby again.
"Oh, Harry," I sob. "Why did we do this? I put another child's innocent life at risk because of my condition! Oh, I'm so terrible!" And just like that, I'm sobbing my heart out. After all those months of being trapped to the bed, I can't even save my child.
"Ginny, calm down. Crying and stressing will only harm the baby further. Ginny, calm down!" But I can't. I'm too scared and worried and I need an outlet. I've been so stressed, all those weeks of doing nothing and wondering if Lily and Connor are OK, and if the vaccuming got done, and not being able to do it, and now the baby in danger just send me over the edge. I can't do this anymore. She needs to be born and she needs to be healthy.
"Ginny, calm down! You'll hurt her and yourself!" Harry exclaimed as I gasped for breath. And all of a sudden, a pain I've only felt once in my life wracked my body.
"AH!" I screamed, hunching over.
"Ginny? What's wrong?" Harry asked, flitting near me nervously.
"I'm going into labor," I announced, slumping back against my pillows as the contraction stopped. Harry paled as he looked at my legs.
"Oh my God," he muttered, then hit a small red button on the side of my bed. Just as another contraction hit, a team of nurses burst into the room and got to work.
"Alright, Mrs. Potter, you're about seven centimeters dilated, which is much, much more than we expected. The baby should be born in maybe two hours if you're lucky, alright?" I don't know how this woman can be so damn perky when I'm in so much pain, but she is.
"Great," I pant, right before another contraction hits.
It's a long two hours, waiting for me to dilate fully. My contractions get more and more frequent, and the doctors quickly stop the medicine they gave me to induce labor. Apparently my slight panic attack sent me into labor, something they'd been trying to do. I really want to push about an hour in, but I can't, because I'm only nine centimeters dilated. When I finally do get to ten centimeters, I'm pretty sure Harry's hand is broken and I've sworn I will never have another child again. I'm also really weak and lightheaded. According to the nurse, I've lost too much blood, but there's nothing they can do to stop me now. One came in and gave me a Blood Replenishing Potion, but it hasn't taken effect, apparently.
"Alright, Ginny, PUSH!" yelled one of the nurses, and I bore down with all my might, shoving as hard as I can. I can feel my daughter moving through me, making her way out.
"Breathe!" another one encourages me, and I inhale as deeply as I can, before pushing again.
"AH!" I screamed, squeezing Harry's hand tightly.
"You're doing wonderful, love," he whispered through gritted teeth.
"I HATE YOU!" I screamed in reply, pushing again, trying to breathe.
"I estimate you've got two more, Ginny, I can see her head!"
That sentence gives me enough strength to push with all my might.
"There she is! One more, one more!"
And I do it. With every last bit of remaining strength in my body, I push down and force my daughter from my body. Almost instantly, her cries fill the room. I cry with relief. She's alive. My baby girl is alive. I see one of the nurses pull out a pair of clippers and head to the umbilical cord.
"NO!" I scream, and she freezes. "Harry has to do it," I insist. "No one else." And my husband moves forward and finally gets to cut the umbilical cord, all the while staring lovingly at his screaming daughter.
"She's got an amazing set of lungs on her," he informs me as another team of nurses swarm in to take care of me.
"We've decided surgery won't be necessary, but we have several potions to give you, Mrs. Potter. Hopefully it will be enough. We are going to need to do one more ultrasound, though, to see if any of it takes effect." I just nod, and then they're shoving potions down my throat. After one particularly nasty one, I make an effort to speak.
"I want to see her. Give me my baby," I demand, in such a voice that no one dares argue. And there comes a nurse, with a pink bundle of blankets in her arms.
"Meet your daughter," she announces, handing my baby to me.
I take her in my arms, looking down on her tiny, perfect face. Her bright green eyes are wide open and she's panting. She already has a shock of red Weasley hair, and her skin is that scrunchy pink of a newborn. She's absolutely perfect. And I know her name instantly, despite Harry and I's endless arguments.
"Annette Grace," I whisper, and her eyes move to me. "My baby girl." She gurgles softly, her eyes focusing on me. I gasp at the way she looks at me. Almost like she knows she's mine...
"Annette?" Harry asks. It was the one we argued over the most. Harry liked that it was unusual and pretty, but I thought it just didn't flow right. I'd never admitted it to him, but it grew on me during our endless arguments. I guess that somewhere along the line, I'd made the decision to name her Annette.
"Yes," I whispered simply, and a smile to make the sun look dim lights up Harry's face. He moves forward to hug the both of us, kissing my forehead and our daughter's. All around us, there are smiles-on the nurses' faces, on my face, and on Harry's. For the first time since discovering my pregnancy, I feel happy and relaxed. I just sit, smiling at my new baby. After ten years, I can finally hold another little one in my arms. Which reminds me...
"Here, Harry," I say. He doesn't even argue with me. Instead, he simply takes his baby girl from my arms and holds her tight to his chest. I fall back against the pillows. Somewhere off to my left, a beeping noise is somewhere off to my left. It starts to slow, and I know something's wrong. Is it my baby? Is she fine?
I jerk around to look at Harry. He's staring at me in horror.
"Ginny! Ginny, breathe! Come on, love, breathe!"
And that's when I realize, just as blackness starts to close in on me, that the beeping noise that is slowing down is my heart. And I can't breathe. Try as I might, I can't pull air into my lungs. I can hear Annette crying and Harry yelling, and nurses' voices. But I can't breathe. I twist and just manage to catch one last glimpse of my husband and baby daughter before my world goes black.
Duh duh duh! Had to have a little drama in there. I promise I'll work my ass off for the next chapter! IF you leave a review!
Lovelovelove -D-
