Angel's Lullaby
Never a Boring Night
Disclaimer: I own no one!
A/N- Some Mild Cursing!
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"Doesn't it suck that both our husbands have to be out of town?" Trish asked, rubbing her swollen orb. Slowly, Randy nodded. "Would you like to feel your daughter kick?"
"Okay," Randy reached out, gently touching her protruding belly. His eyes lit up, the baby jabbing his palm. "Hello, Rhiannon,"
"I thought her name was Meegan," remarked Trish, sipping a virgin Daiquiri. Less than three months from her due date, she had avoided alcohol from the day of the in-vitro procedure. The doctor had assured her that a glass of wine, just one, during her pregnancy would have no adverse affect on the developing baby, but Trish wasn't taking a chance of any type.
"I let him think that," Randy said. The bar was hazy, filled with smoke. Groaning, he realized it couldn't have been healthy for Trish OR the baby. What had he been thinking? "Let's leave, as soon as you're done with your drink,"
Trish coughed. "Alright," The smoke was starting to bother her.
She finished her drink, and they prepared to leave. Once outside, she doubled over, clutching her rounded belly.
Randy was right by her side.
"What's wrong? Are you alright?" he asked, putting his arm around her waist. She shook her head, the color gone from her face. "Is the baby okay? TRISH, TALK TO ME!"
"I...think...I'm...having...a...contraction," Her speech was drawn out. Each breath appeared to be a struggle. She grimaced, pain coursing through her veins.
"You're only twenty-nine weeks," he said, unsure of what he was hearing. She couldn't be going into premature labor, she just couldn't be.
"No shit!" she moaned. Suddenly, her grip on her belly loosened. Slowly, the color returned to her face. "It ended," Randy let out a sigh of relief.
Then, she doubled over again.
"Get...me...to...the...damn...hospital!" she moaned. Randy scooped her off her feet and took her to his black pick-up truck. After placing her in the front seat and buckling her seatbelt, he jumped into the driver's seat and sped off.
His mind was a swirl of emotions. Would Trish be alright? Would the baby be alright? If she was born now, could she survive on her own? What else could he do?
Normally, the drive to Columbian Presbyterian took anywhere from fifteen to thirty minutes. Thanks to some clever and FAST driving, Randy got her there in ten minutes.
Trish hadn't spoken since the breathy cry for help. Tears ran down her face. She appeared to be talking to herself, a silent bid to keep the baby within.
She was whisked off to an exam room, leaving Randy in the waiting room. Silently, he began to pace. Unable to figure out what to do, he just paced.
"John?" After spending about half an hour in the waiting room, he just had to talk to his husband.
"Rand, what's wrong?"
"Apparently, Trish started having contractions. I'm scared out of my mind. They're not telling me anything. What can I possibly do?"
"What? Is the baby okay? Is Trish okay?"
"I don't know!"
"I'm calling Chris. We'll be on the next available flight. That's all I can say,"
"I just wish they would tell me something!"
"Ask. It is your baby,"
"Our baby, C"
"From our point of view. From a legal standpoint, you're the father. Besides, you're the only one there,"
"I'll keep you updated," Randy hung up. Silently, he ran up to the reception desk. "Excuse me," The receptionist glanced up.
"Yes, Sir?" she murmured, snapping her gum.
"My fiancee was rushed to an exam room,"
"Name?"
"Trish Irvine,"
"Follow me,"
Randy was led to a small exam room. Trish was sitting up in a hospital bed, a fetal monitor strapped around her belly. Her eyes were red, but she wasn't crying.
"Well?"
"It's a waiting game,"
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Cliff hanger? Will Trish deliver? Will Randy help her cope? Read Chapter 14 to find out!
JenLea (Having fun torturing readers!)
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