"Motherhood is the strangest thing; it can be like being one's own Trojan horse."
Rebecca West
Lisa O'Reilly Hotchner sat at her desk, willing away the dull throbbing headache she'd had all day, no scratch that, all week. It had been a warm early March week and she contributed the headache to the many spring flowers that had been blooming in the warm weather.
It had to be her allergies, she determined, because she'd also been experiencing mild nausea, something she hadn't felt since the very beginning of her pregnancy. Still, she felt like shit, royal shit and she just wanted, more than anything to feel better.
As if in response to her concern, she felt the baby move. He'd been doing a lot of that lately, usually at night, when she lay down. Seems "Little Hotch" as he'd been christened around Quantico, was nocturnal. She would have to break that habit once he made his debut.
She laughed, thinking of how she started referring to the baby as a "he" as soon as movement started. She'd determined that the baby had a personality and that the personality was clearly male. None of her ultrasounds had revealed anything to allude to either gender.
Not that they'd really asked. They were more concerned with the results of tests that ruled out birth defects, something that due to Lisa's age, were a possibility. Those tests came back blissfully negative. Once they had all of the results, they both relaxed and started to enjoy the preparations for the baby.
"Hello, Gingersnap," Garcia smiled from the doorway.
"Hey, Pen," she smiled.
"And how's Little Hotch doing?"
"He's active," she laughed, rubbing her stomach.
"And that could be from the Diet Pepsi you had this morning?" Garcia knowingly said.
"I didn't have a Diet Pepsi," she smartly returned.
"Oh really?" she asked, walking around and looking into her trashcan. "Then why is there a can in there?"
"That was from the cleaning crew," she dismissed.
"Don't lie to me," she said, sternly. "You know you shouldn't be drinking caffeine."
"Yes, Pen, I know," she nodded. She held up her mug, "This is green tea…want to check it? With sugar, not Splenda, and lemon."
"I know it's hard," Garcia smiled, "But isn't it worth it?"
"Of course it is," she sighed, "But damnit, as soon as I give birth you had better be standing next to me with a beer and a Diet Pepsi."
"I promise, I'll drag the cooler in to the delivery room and we'll have a party, okay?"
"So," Lisa said, rubbing at the right side of her stomach. "Did you have a reason for coming here other than being a narc for my caffeine addiction?"
"Actually, I did," she laughed, holding up a folder, "The research material you asked for."
"I asked Kevin for it," Lisa said, brow raised.
"I know, I just intercepted it so that I'd have an excuse to come up here," she winked. "Okay, my job here is done. I'm going now!"
Lisa laughed at her friend, "Thanks, Pen."
"I did it for Little Hotch," she winked, walking to the door. "Call if you need anything."
"Will do," she said, watching as Garcia walked away. Tiredly, she stretched her legs, frowning at her swollen feet. That had been new, showing up in the past two days. She made a mental note to discuss that with Dr. Ben this afternoon.
Picking up the folder that Garcia brought, she tried to focus on the printed pages, but her eyes blurred.
"Shit," she muttered, flipping shut the folder and rubbing her eyes. She really didn't like this part of pregnancy. She was getting bigger, feeling more uncomfortable. Her legs and feet were swelling, she'd had a headache for three days straight, and now her eyes were blurring, no doubt due to the head ache. And, to top it off, the baby was sticking either its hand or foot up under the right side of her rib cage.
Sighing, she looked at the clock on her computer, deciding it was time to leave to go see Dr. Ben. Picking up her desk phone, she called her husband.
He answered after one ring, "Hotchner," he said, and the one word told her just how badly his day was going.
"Hey," she said, "I'm getting ready to go see Dr. Ben, think you can slip away?"
"Would you be mad at me if I didn't?" he asked, disappointment tingeing his words.
"No," she softly said, "I know you're swamped. Will you make it home for dinner tonight?"
"I may," he said, then sighed. "I doubt it. Call me after the doctors?"
"I will," she agreed, then, softly, "Love you."
"Me too," he returned. "You'd better go; you're going to be late."
"I'm out; I'll call you after my visit."
XXXXX
Had she known how her visit with Dr. Ben would end up, Lisa would have insisted that Hotch join her. Sure, she'd felt really crappy lately, sure her feet and calves had swollen, sure she felt like general dog shit, but wasn't that what pregnancy was supposed to feel like?
Apparently, it wasn't. She knew there was something wrong when Cassi the perky young nurse took her blood pressure three times, and then told her to lay down, before bustling out of the room to find Dr. Ben.
Dr. Ben's concerned expression did nothing to make her feel better and after he announced that her blood pressure was 160/110 and that he needed to run blood and urine tests ASAP, she dismissed all thoughts of a normal visit.
The urine results came back quickly, which she was grateful for, as she was starting to build up to a low grade panic. She wasn't glad to hear Dr. Ben's concerned voice advise her that there was protein in her urine and that this, coupled with the rest of her symptoms told him that she was probably suffering from pre eclampsia.
Lisa had read briefly about it in one of the myriad of pregnancy books she'd purchased since her diagnosis, but since they said it only affected 1 in every 3000 pregnancies and that there was no known prevention, she chalked it up to an anomaly and kept reading. If Dr Ben was right, it was her anomaly now and she was that 1 in 3000.
She forced herself to listen as Dr. Ben went on about how he wanted to admit her to the hospital for observation and further testing, and how those strange muscle pulls that she'd felt off and on today were actually mild contractions and that they needed to stop.
In a blur, she was escorted by wheel chair by Cassi the perky young nurse, through the metal and glass walkway that joined the medical building to the hospital and then into the elevators up to the 4th floor maternity department.
As they wheeled her through the double doors into the maternity department, she realized that Hotch had no idea what was going on. Pulling out her Blackberry, she dialed his desk phone.
He answered on the second ring, "Hotchner."
"Hotch," she began, feeling herself filling up with tears, deciding, for the first time since Dr. Ben started with this whirlwind, that she was scared.
"What's wrong?" he asked, instantly picking up on her tone.
"I'm at Georgetown, they're admitting me."
"Admitting you? Lisa, what's going on?"
"My blood pressure was really high," she said, feeling the tears start to fall. "Dr Ben seems to think I've got pre-eclampsia."
"I thought that was something rare?"
"Yeah, you're talking to one in 3000," she sniffed, then quietly, "I'm scared, Hotch."
"I'll be there as soon as I can," he said, his tone strained, telling her that he mirrored her emotion.
"Be careful," she careful, she quickly said.
"Stop worrying about me," he gently said, "Just concentrate on you and the baby, okay? I love you, Lisa. Everything's going to be okay."
"Just hurry, Hotch, okay?"
XXXXX
Aaron Hotchner walked into the Maternity Ward and straight to the nurse's station. He'd made the 45 minute ride from Quantico in 37 minutes, pulling right up to the hospital's valet parking. He wasn't about to waste an hour finding a parking spot, so he tossed the valet his keys and snagged the key tag, tucking it in his pocket as he rushed into the hospital.
He walked up to the desk, catching the attention of the unit clerk, an older woman with graying brown hair.
"Can I help you?" she asked, with a friendly smile.
"My wife was brought in about an hour ago," he began, "Her name is Lisa Hotchner?"
The woman checked the computer and nodded, "Dr. Bergen's patient. She's in Room 424. That's down the hall, last door on your left."
"Thank you," he returned, with a perfunctory smile, and then took the hall in long strides, stopping in front of the partially shut door to room 424. He took a moment to force himself to relax, then, walked in.
He was not prepared for what he found. He'd expected to find her sitting up in bed, clad in a hospital gown, possibly with an iv. Instead, she lay, hooked up to at least two different machines, with an iv running into her arm and a catheter. She opened her eyes as he enterred and he could read the fear from across the room.
"Hey there," he said, trying to smile.
"Hey," she said, closing her eyes tight, obviously trying to hold back the tears that started to fall.
Moved quickly to the side of the bed, he took her hand in both of his. Bending over, he pressed his lips to her forehead, kissing it softly "How do you feel?"
"I felt like shit, now I'm just freaking out," she admitted. "I'm trussed up like a freaking Thanksgiving turkey…"
He took in the machinery, recognizing the tocometer belt that wrapped around her stomach. There was a blood pressure cuff around her right arm that was attached to another device, and the iv had an electronic pump. As they sat in silence, he realized that the whooshing sound coming faintly from one of the machines was the baby's heartbeat.
He smiled, "The heartbeat sounds good and strong."
"He's fine," she nodded, "They said he's doing great. I'm the one who's falling apart." She closed her eyes a moment, "Thank God, it's me, not him."
Hotch closed his eyes for a moment, wondering what in the hell he should say in response to her comment. Finally, he said, "I wish it wasn't either of you."
"Me too," she agreed, as the door opened and in walked Dr. Ben Bergen.
"Aaron," Dr. Ben began, in the friendly tone Hotch had known for years. "What'd you do, fly here?"
"Just about," he admitted, sitting in the chair next to Lisa's bed. "What's going on?"
"We believe that Lisa's suffering from pre eclampsia," Dr. Ben explained. "Unfortunately, we do not know what causes the body to react this way and there really was no way to predict it. It's rare, only one in 3000 pregnancies."
"Lucky, lucky me," Lisa mumbled.
"What we're doing now is stabilizing Lisa's blood pressure. When she was admitted it was 161/110. She's on an automatic blood pressure monitor and we've set her up with magnesium sulfate, which is why she's feeling flushed right now."
"And the baby?" he asked.
"The baby is fine," Dr. Ben said, "We're going to bring in a portable ultrasound in a bit just to get a look, but everything else seems fine. Now, we need to get some back ground info in order to make sure we're going with the right diagnosis. I'm going to send in one of the nurses to ask a few questions, okay?"
Lisa nodded, numbly.
Dr Ben smiled at her, "Lisa, I think everything will be fine. The contractions seem to have slowed down and once the magnesium starts to work, they should go away. If not, we'll put you on something to stop them."
"What happens if they don't stop?" Lisa asked, her voice betraying her emotion.
"The ultra sound will confirm everything, but right now, the baby's probably about 14 inches long and weighs around two pounds. If he or she would be born at this point, there's an 85% chance of survival with proper medical intervention." He gave them both a reassuring smile, "But, we're going to do everything possible to keep that from happening. Lisa, your biggest job is to just relax, stay calm, and think positively, can you do that?
She nodded.
"Good," he winked, "Aaron, I'm leaving her in your hands. Take care of her."
"I will, Ben, thank you," he returned with a nod, then watched as the doctor left the room.
"Questions? Background info?" she sighed.
"It can't be any worse that what we filled out to join the Bureau, right?" he tried, having no idea just how bad it could get.