Chandler paced the hall outside her room, shifting to avoid the
nurses that hurried down the corridor. He raked through his hair with one
hand, and question after painful question exploded in his mind. His head
felt as though it might burst, and the night was not yet over.
When he reached Beth Israel Medical Center, he realized that he forgot to call the others. He called everyone, including her parents. Astoundingly, no one answered his or her phones except Joey.
"Shit," he had cursed as Chandler told him the news. "What's wrong with her?"
"I don't know, Joe," Chandler had replied tiredly. "I just don't know. They won't tell me anything."
"Dude, I'll be right there, okay?"
"Chandler?" He felt a tug on his sweatshirt and turned to see Emily's pleading eyes. God, his heart broke even looking at that expression.
"Are you okay?"
He nearly broke down, but shook his head furiously. "I'm fine, little one," he whispered hoarsely as he drew her into his arms.
"It's lonely out there with Uncle Joey," she said sadly. "When will I see Mommy?"
"I don't know, Ems," he replied, tears threatening to spill. "Why don't you go sit with Uncle Joey, and I'll be there as soon as I can, okay?"
"Okay," Emily agreed hesitantly. As she turned to go, she looked at him again. "Chandler, I love you."
That was it. He ran to her, nurses be damned, and picked her up in his arms. "Oh, sweetie, I love you too, so much," he cried as the tears now fell.
Emily cried too, her face buried in his neck, her tears staining his sweatshirt. Joey rounded a corner to see them, and his eyes were reddened as well. Chandler saw him and motioned him over. He turned Emily over to Joey, who picked her up and held her as he left for the waiting room. Chandler looked around to find a door marked "Chapel." Turning the doorknob, he stumbled inside.
The chapel was simple, with a few rows of seats, a small pulpit up front, and four small stained-glass windows that glowed with light. Chandler sat in a chair in the back, and dropped his face into his hands. This time, the tears came without restraint, as there was no one else in the room.
"I've never prayed before," his voice sounded forced and filled up the room easily. "But I'm terrified. I'm scared that I'll never see her again, and that makes my heart ache horribly. Please, just let her be all right. Please." he broke down, slipping from the chair to his knees on the floor and crying. "I love her," he managed to whisper into the emptiness.
"Mr. Bing?" A hand rested on his shoulder, and he peered through tearstained eyes to see a beautiful woman clothed in white, her blond hair shining in the light from the windows. She looked almost like.
"You may see her now," she said, her eyes saddened by his. She knew that he was not the husband, but anyone could see just how much he cared. Reaching for his hand, she grasped it lightly to give him support, and led him out of the chapel and into the hallway. "She's asking for you," she informed him as he glanced at her nametag. Joy. Her name was Joy. They walked down the hallway, and stopped outside the room. "Mr. Bing, I need to tell you," she began hesitantly, and he turned to her, fearing the worst. "She's not fully conscious yet, but she has been murmuring your name. She's on a heavy sedative and painkiller, so she may not be fully alert for awhile."
He nodded without really listening and managed to thank her. Opening the heavy wood door slowly, he peered around it and walked in, shutting it behind him.
Monica was under several blankets, but still shivering slightly. Her head and torso were raised in the bed. An intravenous line ran into her forearm, and the quiet swishing of the pump was the only thing to be heard. She lay deathly still, and Chandler hated how pale she looked.
"Oh, God," he whispered, fighting to keep his composure for her sake. He sank down into the chair beside her bed and took her hand in his, stroking it softly. It was chilled.
"Monica," he whispered, feeling the words course through him as they left his lips, "you can't do this.you can't let him win." He trailed off as the sobs constricted his throat, and he dropped his head to her thigh, his tears staining the pink blanket. "I love you so much, Mon," he murmured into the soft fabric.
"Mmmph.mmm."
Chandler shot up. "Monica?"
Her eyelids fluttered and she moaned. "Chan." her eyes closed tightly with the effort, then squinted and opened again. "Chandler, you're."
"I'm here," he finished for her, his hand stroking her hair tenderly. "How are you feeling?"
"Like a semi truck slammed into me. I feel achy all over, and sore. What happened?" She managed slowly.
"I don't know," he said as the door to her room opened, and a woman in her 50s, with gray hair and silver glasses walked in.
"Hello, Miss Geller," the woman smiled warmly. "And you are.?" she asked, gesturing to Chandler.
"Chandler Bing, a friend," he offered.
"Mr. Bing, my name is Dr. Roberts. May I ask you to step outside while I talk with Monica?"
Chandler nodded, but Monica shook her head slowly. "I want him here."
"All right," the doctor acquiesced. She took a seat and looked into both faces hesitantly. "Monica, I'm here to tell you what happened. Did you know that you were six weeks pregnant?"
The deep blue eyes lightened as she asked, "Pregnant? No, I had no idea. I missed my period two weeks ago, but I thought that it was from stress." Suddenly, realization dawned. "Was pregnant?"
Dr. Roberts nodded. "Monica, there was an extreme stress to the fetus, causing a premature uterine detachment."
Monica's eyes filled with tears. "A miscarriage?" she whispered.
The obstetrician was silent, but her eyes were saddened. "I'm sorry, Monica." She glanced at Chandler, and then stood. "I'll leave you two alone. If you need anything, have the nurse page me."
Neither Chandler nor Monica heard the door close, for as soon as the doctor left, Monica buried her face in Chandler's neck and wept.
I'm sorry that this installment took so long.I've been so busy all summer, and I lost part of my story from the computer.please leave reviews! (
When he reached Beth Israel Medical Center, he realized that he forgot to call the others. He called everyone, including her parents. Astoundingly, no one answered his or her phones except Joey.
"Shit," he had cursed as Chandler told him the news. "What's wrong with her?"
"I don't know, Joe," Chandler had replied tiredly. "I just don't know. They won't tell me anything."
"Dude, I'll be right there, okay?"
"Chandler?" He felt a tug on his sweatshirt and turned to see Emily's pleading eyes. God, his heart broke even looking at that expression.
"Are you okay?"
He nearly broke down, but shook his head furiously. "I'm fine, little one," he whispered hoarsely as he drew her into his arms.
"It's lonely out there with Uncle Joey," she said sadly. "When will I see Mommy?"
"I don't know, Ems," he replied, tears threatening to spill. "Why don't you go sit with Uncle Joey, and I'll be there as soon as I can, okay?"
"Okay," Emily agreed hesitantly. As she turned to go, she looked at him again. "Chandler, I love you."
That was it. He ran to her, nurses be damned, and picked her up in his arms. "Oh, sweetie, I love you too, so much," he cried as the tears now fell.
Emily cried too, her face buried in his neck, her tears staining his sweatshirt. Joey rounded a corner to see them, and his eyes were reddened as well. Chandler saw him and motioned him over. He turned Emily over to Joey, who picked her up and held her as he left for the waiting room. Chandler looked around to find a door marked "Chapel." Turning the doorknob, he stumbled inside.
The chapel was simple, with a few rows of seats, a small pulpit up front, and four small stained-glass windows that glowed with light. Chandler sat in a chair in the back, and dropped his face into his hands. This time, the tears came without restraint, as there was no one else in the room.
"I've never prayed before," his voice sounded forced and filled up the room easily. "But I'm terrified. I'm scared that I'll never see her again, and that makes my heart ache horribly. Please, just let her be all right. Please." he broke down, slipping from the chair to his knees on the floor and crying. "I love her," he managed to whisper into the emptiness.
"Mr. Bing?" A hand rested on his shoulder, and he peered through tearstained eyes to see a beautiful woman clothed in white, her blond hair shining in the light from the windows. She looked almost like.
"You may see her now," she said, her eyes saddened by his. She knew that he was not the husband, but anyone could see just how much he cared. Reaching for his hand, she grasped it lightly to give him support, and led him out of the chapel and into the hallway. "She's asking for you," she informed him as he glanced at her nametag. Joy. Her name was Joy. They walked down the hallway, and stopped outside the room. "Mr. Bing, I need to tell you," she began hesitantly, and he turned to her, fearing the worst. "She's not fully conscious yet, but she has been murmuring your name. She's on a heavy sedative and painkiller, so she may not be fully alert for awhile."
He nodded without really listening and managed to thank her. Opening the heavy wood door slowly, he peered around it and walked in, shutting it behind him.
Monica was under several blankets, but still shivering slightly. Her head and torso were raised in the bed. An intravenous line ran into her forearm, and the quiet swishing of the pump was the only thing to be heard. She lay deathly still, and Chandler hated how pale she looked.
"Oh, God," he whispered, fighting to keep his composure for her sake. He sank down into the chair beside her bed and took her hand in his, stroking it softly. It was chilled.
"Monica," he whispered, feeling the words course through him as they left his lips, "you can't do this.you can't let him win." He trailed off as the sobs constricted his throat, and he dropped his head to her thigh, his tears staining the pink blanket. "I love you so much, Mon," he murmured into the soft fabric.
"Mmmph.mmm."
Chandler shot up. "Monica?"
Her eyelids fluttered and she moaned. "Chan." her eyes closed tightly with the effort, then squinted and opened again. "Chandler, you're."
"I'm here," he finished for her, his hand stroking her hair tenderly. "How are you feeling?"
"Like a semi truck slammed into me. I feel achy all over, and sore. What happened?" She managed slowly.
"I don't know," he said as the door to her room opened, and a woman in her 50s, with gray hair and silver glasses walked in.
"Hello, Miss Geller," the woman smiled warmly. "And you are.?" she asked, gesturing to Chandler.
"Chandler Bing, a friend," he offered.
"Mr. Bing, my name is Dr. Roberts. May I ask you to step outside while I talk with Monica?"
Chandler nodded, but Monica shook her head slowly. "I want him here."
"All right," the doctor acquiesced. She took a seat and looked into both faces hesitantly. "Monica, I'm here to tell you what happened. Did you know that you were six weeks pregnant?"
The deep blue eyes lightened as she asked, "Pregnant? No, I had no idea. I missed my period two weeks ago, but I thought that it was from stress." Suddenly, realization dawned. "Was pregnant?"
Dr. Roberts nodded. "Monica, there was an extreme stress to the fetus, causing a premature uterine detachment."
Monica's eyes filled with tears. "A miscarriage?" she whispered.
The obstetrician was silent, but her eyes were saddened. "I'm sorry, Monica." She glanced at Chandler, and then stood. "I'll leave you two alone. If you need anything, have the nurse page me."
Neither Chandler nor Monica heard the door close, for as soon as the doctor left, Monica buried her face in Chandler's neck and wept.
I'm sorry that this installment took so long.I've been so busy all summer, and I lost part of my story from the computer.please leave reviews! (