Part One
Amelia
Thirty four weeks… She's only thirty four weeks pregnant.
I know that twins can come early. It's normal, it's common… But, it's usually around thirty six weeks, at least. The babies are a month and a half early. A month and a half! How do I handle this?
My wife lays in the hospital bed, propped up by pillows, watching me move sporadically around the room as I try to think of ways to help her. Arizona, of course, is calm and relaxed, despite being in labour. Her contractions are now only five minutes apart, but she is handling them like a pro. The woman continues to amaze me every day.
"Honey, will you stop pacing?" She laughs. "Just watching you is tiring me out."
"Do you need anything?" I ask, urgently. "Do you want me to get you some ice chips?" Ice chips? Ice chips? Why am I asking her about ice chips? I'm a doctor, for God's sake. Why can't I think of anything more useful than ice chips?
"Amelia, I'm okay!" She smiles, gently. "I just need you here with me."
I try and compose myself. I need to be the level-headed one here. Arizona must be scared. Specialising in paediatrics, she understands the risks of early delivery better than I do. I take a seat next to her and hold her hand in mine. I use the other to tuck her hair behind her ear.
"How you doing?" I ask, wanting her to lay all her worries on me.
She's really quiet for a few moments, and her mouth twitches to the side.
"I'm scared," she confesses in a voice barely above a whisper. "They'll be here for a few days… If not weeks," she says, blinking back a few tears. "Who's in the NICU today?"
"Karev," I answer, reassuringly. "So, they'll be in the best possible hands, okay?"
She smiles at me before her face contorts into a look of pain. Another contraction. It's only been three minutes since the last one; they're getting closer. She breathes through it, steadily. I let her squeeze my hand and I rub firmly up and down her back. It seems to help.
As it comes to an end, another person enters the room. And, it's not exactly the face I want to see as we welcome our children to the world… "Buongiorno!"
"Carina?" Arizona frowns at the OB in confusion. "What are you doing here?"
"I'm your OB today," she explains, in an upbeat manner. "Dr Ryan is attending to a case in the emergency room."
"Okay… I appreciate the offer, but I'm really not comfortable with this…"
"It's nothing I haven't seen before, Arizona," she says, casually, before flipping through the chart. I feel my eyebrows shoot to my forehead. The sheer audacity of this woman!
"Are you kidding me?" I ask, abruptly. My voice is sharper than I intended, but I think it got the point across.
"What? Oh, I didn't mean… It's just a form of speech!"
"'Figure'… 'Figure of speech' – Look! Are there any other OBs working today?" Arizona asks, flustered.
"Erm… Dr Lachman?" Carina suggests, pulling a face of disapproval.
"No, she performs too many C-sections. I don't want her pushing one on me. Especially with…" She cuts her sentence short and shakes her head. "Is there anyone else?"
"Dr Fields?"
"Yes, Lucy's good! Send her up!" Arizona says, enthusiastically.
"Of course," Carina says with an obliging smile, before leaving the room.
"You are so high maintenance," I joke.
"We could get Dr DeLuca back in here, if you'd prefer?" She fires back with a smirk.
"No, thank you!" I say with a deadpan expression. We grin at each other, then Arizona looks down at her stomach and allows her hands to glide over it. Her mouth is still smiling but her eyes are full of concern. I rest my hand on top of hers and she looks at me with uncertainty. "They're gonna be okay," I reassure her. "I can feel it." She looks at me with trust in her eyes, and a serene smile on her face.
"I love you, Amelia Shepherd," she says, quietly.
"I love you too, Arizona Robbins," I reply before kissing her gently on the lips and looking at her with all the admiration in the world. Our peaceful moment is cut short as the next contraction begins.
"Ow, ow…"
…
I'm in awe of Arizona. She is a pillar of strength. She hasn't screamed or shouted once in the past four hours of labour. Instead, she puts all of her energy into ensuring a safe arrival for our children.
"Arizona, you're doing great," the OB encourages. "The first baby is nearly here!"
"I don't remember it being this painful," she admits to us.
"Not long now, beautiful," I try to comfort her. "Just a few more pushes."
At 3:42am, I hear my son's first cries. It's the most wonderful sound. He's little; four pounds, five ounces. But, he's strong and vocal. Most importantly, he can breathe by himself. Once he's cleaned up, Fields carefully hands him to me and the happy tears begin to drop from my eyes.
"Oh, my God! He's perfect," I say, staring at the little bundle in my arms. He's stopped crying now, like he knows he's safe with his mom. I give my incredible wife my best smile and lower him to her chest. She immediately wraps him in her arms and simply stares at him.
"Hi, little man!" She says, through her own tears. "Your name is Arlo Timothy Robbins-Shepherd, and you are so loved."
She turns her head and looks at me with elation. I press my lips to her forehead, and we go right back to staring at our tiny newborn. We spend a few quiet moments with him until the nurse takes him to a nearby warming bed.
"His brother's going to be here soon," Fields says. "Arlo's going to Dr Karev in the NICU where he can monitor-"
"We know what he's monitoring," Arizona snaps. She's just started another contraction. He really is going to be here soon! Suddenly, she grips my arm so tightly that I think she could snap it. "Amelia, something's wrong. It's not… I can't…"
And, then there's this cry of anguish. I haven't ever heard a sound like that come from her mouth. It's a cry of pure, unadulterated agony. The panic on her face is undeniable.
"Fields, what's going on?" I ask, urgently.
"Arizona, listen…" She says, calmly, ignoring my question. "He's just turned, he's breech. He's too far down to start a C-section. He's going to be okay, but you need to put everything you've got into the next few pushes."
As I watch my wife become even stronger than she's already been, I hear snippets of the quiet conversation Dr Fields is having with the nurse, "… losing strength in the contractions… risk of postpartum hemorrhage…"
After what seems like a lifetime, he arrives. I look at the clock and see that twenty three minutes has passed. He's here; Theo Derek Robbins-Shepherd. And, he is just as beautiful as his brother. But, there's no cry like there was with Arlo. Or, movement. He's slightly jaundice, and he's definitely smaller. I look back at my wife who has collapsed on to her pillow, but is watching our youngest baby like a hawk. There's still no cry. I rush to stand next to the people already attending to him. They're doing all the right things, but nothing's happening. Dr Fields bags my baby using the tiniest oxygen mask I've ever seen, whilst a nurse cleans him up. Come on, Theo! Breathe, honey. Breathe.
As though he's heard my thoughts, our little boy starts to scream, loudly. I release the breath I've been holding on to and bring my hand up to my chest in an attempt to stop my heart from bursting through. I take a moment before I move quickly back to Arizona. I brush her hair out of her face and stroke her cheek.
"He's okay," I confirm. "He's okay."
"He's breathing independently, but he might need a little more oxygen," Fields pipes in. "Nurse Liv's going to take this little guy straight down to the NICU. Arizona, I'm going to need to stay here with you."
I frown a little out of confusion, but as I look at the lower end of the bed, it's apparent she's already had a postpartum hemorrhage. There's so much blood. I look from my struggling son to my wife, and back again.
"Go… Go with him!" Arizona urges, though she seems a little woozy.
"I'm not leaving you," I refuse.
"I'll be fine!" She insists. "Go watch over our boys."
I look to Dr Fields who nods reassuringly at me, then back to Arizona. I grab her hand tightly and kiss it twice, before telling her: "I'll be right back!"
It takes me seconds to get to the NICU. Arlo looks as though he's already settled, wrapped up warm with a tiny nasogastric tube sticking out of his nose. I check his vitals… He looks good; as healthy as he possibly can be. I smile at our strong little guy and turn my attention to Theo. Alex takes his weight as Fields didn't have time to do it. He's four pounds, one ounce… That's a little on the small side, but fine. He still hasn't stopped crying. Is he scared? Is he in pain? Is he looking for his mommies? I stand next to Alex and look at him, desperately.
"Spend some time with the other twin," Alex says, realising that I haven't got a clue what to do. "You can hold him. It's okay."
…
Arlo and Theo are both in warming beds now, settled and well. As it turns out, Theo doesn't need extra oxygen, but he does have a feeding tube that matches his brother's. After spending nearly fifteen minutes snuggling and talking to my children, I feel guilty that Arizona can't do the same. I kiss them both and go back to check up on her. As I enter the room, I realise it's completely empty. The bed has been wheeled out and in its place are several pools of blood. My heart leaps into my mouth and my stomach twists in despair. Where the hell is my wife?
I run down the corridor in an attempt to find someone – anyone – who knows where Arizona's been taken. I spot Carina and run over to her, immediately.
"Where is she?" I ask in a panic.
"Amelia-"
"WHERE IS SHE?" I cut her off with a shout, urgently needing to know where Arizona is.
"OR4," she replies, reluctantly. "But…"
I don't hear the rest of her sentence. I'm already running towards my wife. As I reach the operating floor, I frantically put on my scrub mask and cap, and reach for the door handle of the operating theatre.
"You can't go in there," Kepner says delicately, blocking the door with her entire body.
"Fucking watch me," is my sharp reply and I reach for the handle, again.
"Amelia, stop!" She says, more firmly this time. "You wanna drive yourself insane, then fine! Go and watch from the gallery, but I can't let you in there."
It takes me a few moments to stop hating her, but I soon realise that she's just doing her job. I catch the breaths I didn't realise I'd lost with all the running around and rest my hands atop my head.
"Is she going to be okay?" I ask, croakily, as my emotions start to get the better of me.
"She's going to be fine," Kepner answers, reassuringly. And, I know she's not bullshitting me. "They're just looking for the cause of the bleeding. It's probably going to involve some uterine compression sutures and a short recovery time."
"What can I do?" Surely she doesn't just expect me to stand here, doing nothing.
"Be calm, and be here when she gets out."