That Was When He Saw Her Chapter 23, a 7th heaven fanfic

Becca groaned when she awakened the next morning. Her freedom was officially over. Sure, she was able to get up then and get ready and go to school, but she had nothing to look forward to afterwards. She couldn't stand up anymore. How was she going to be able to function without standing? This was going to be impossible.

What Becca didn't know, however, was that Wilson was dreading this more than she was. From the second that she told him, Wilson pictured himself being Becca's slave. Of course he loved her, and he would do anything for her, but he didn't want to be turned into some pansy that carried his wife around everywhere and brought her books and the telephone. That certainly was not the type of life he envisioned when he asked Becca to marry him.

When they came home that afternoon, Becca walked in slowly from the car, savoring her last few seconds of freedom. She even purposely forgot her backpack in the car so she would have to walk a few feet back to get it. Wilson just thought she was being overly-dramatic, but either way this was going to turn into a big deal.

Just before they reached the front door, Becca turned to him. "So, so what do I do now? Do I get I bed, or do I sit on the couch, or-"

"Where do you want to sit?"

"On the couch until dinner."

"Then sit there."

"And then, then when we eat will you pick me up and bring me to the table?"

"Sure," he sighed.

They entered the house and Becca walked slowly over to the couch, bringing her schoolbooks with her. She first placed her backpack down on the cushion on the far right before gingerly sitting on the other end. She squirmed around a bit, settling into a comfortable position, and then sighed loudly as she looked up at Wilson.

"Yes?"

"Nothing. This bites."

"That it does." He bent down and kissed the top of her head. "Look, I have to go run. Will you be OK for me to leave you for, say, forty minutes?"

"I guess so." She sounded so forlorn.

"All right. I'm going to change. Do you want me to get you anything?"

"No, not at the moment. Probably when you get back, though."

Wilson nodded and went into his room. He changed into sweats and then walked past Becca to the front door.

"Wilson?" she called out just as he touched the doorknob.

"Yes?"

"Can you get me an apple?"

"Sure." He grabbed an apple off this kitchen counter and gave it to her. "Good now?"

Again she did the pathetic sigh. "Yes."

"OK." She pleaded with him with her puppy dog eyes, but Wilson just wasn't buying it. "Bye Becca."

Becca was fine until dinner came. Wilson had to carry her to her seat at the table, which was quite a feat in itself. He put one arm under her knees and the other around her back and prayed that his legs didn't go out on him after all that running he did earlier. Luckily for both, he was sturdy and sound. Wilson garnered strange looks from his father, who really didn't understand why Becca had to be carried to the table, but his mother seemed to get it.

After the meal, Wilson brought Becca her homework and they sat at the kitchen table finishing up the work that they needed to get done for the next day. After that, Wilson went and turned down the bed. He carried Becca from the kitchen into the bedroom and put her down gently. She looked up at him appreciatively and he smiled a weary smile.

"Want to go to sleep?" he asked her. "I'm tired."

"It's only 9:15."

"So?" Wilson clicked off the lights and climbed into bed with her. "Good night." He kissed her neck. Five minutes later, he tapped Becca on the shoulder.

"Yes?"

"This means no sex, doesn't it?"

She rolled over and stared at him, her eyes bugging out of her head. "I hadn't even thought of that!" She hit her forehead. "How-how are we going to survive?"

He didn't seem too thrilled either. "I don't know."

A few minutes of silence passed before Becca spoke again. "You sure? I mean, she just said no strenuous activity?"

"Believe me, that's strenuous."

She giggled.

Sunday night, after the couple had gotten into bed, Becca and Wilson stayed up talking. They were discussing anything and everything, until Becca steered the conversation in a very purposeful direction.

"So, I was thinking…"

"Yes?"

"I want you to come with me to my doctor's appointment tomorrow."

"OK." He didn't say anything more.

"OK? But you have practice tomorrow."

"I told you that if you needed me I'd skip it. I'll just tell the coach I have a family thing and that I'll run six miles instead of three and I can go with you."

"You can't run six miles."

He smiled. "I know. I'll just tell him that so he won't be too upset with me."

She laughed. "But I thought you were an anti-lying crusader?"

"Everyone needs to fib sometimes, when there is just cause. Don't you think?"

She shrugged. "I guess so. I used to lie all the time. To my friends, to my parents especially. I don't know how anyone ever trusted me. I always said one thing and did another. But now, not so much."

"Why not?"

She interlocked her fingers with his. "Because I want you to know where I am and what I'm doing. You're important to me. None of those people that I lied to all the time really mattered all that much."

Wilson sat in the office with Becca, his hands shaking. Wilson was so nervous that something terrible was going to happen to her- that the doctor was going to give them bad news. They really didn't need any more confusion in their lives, and nothing was really going right.

Dr. Van Zandt walked into the room and sat in front of the desk before Becca and Wilson. "Ah, the husband. Come out of concern for your wife?"

"Something like that, yes."

"Well, let me break down her condition for you. Preeclampsia is kind of rare; it affects only about five to eight percent of all pregnancies. Teenagers are at risk for it, and so are women pregnant with their first child, of which Becca is both. It is a rapidly progressive condition characterized by high blood pressure and the presence of protein in the urine. There can be symptoms but, as is the case with your wife, many women exhibit no real symptoms at all." He nodded. "The causes of it is unknown, however it could be a result of elements of the fetus that trigger an immune response in the mother."

"OK."

"Now, a person with mild preeclampsia may feel perfectly well. That's why it is important for Becca to attend all her prenatal checkups. The symptoms of severe preeclampsia, which Becca does not have yet, can develop during the last weeks of pregnancy. She can get headaches, blurred vision, sensitivity to bright light, nausea and vomiting, and retain water. It may progress to eclampsia, which is a whole different and admittedly more severe condition. The symptoms of that are seizures and, sometimes, unconsciousness. Not to scare you, but you should be aware of that."

"O-OK."

"As for treatment, we've got Becca on her loose bed rest, as I'm sure you are well aware, and I've put her on magnesium sulfate supplements. Usually, though, we have to do constant blood pressure and fetal monitoring, but she's not there yet. It's very mild so far, but it could progress. We have to continue to keep a close watch on her and the baby. Any questions?"

"Is this condition harmful to the child?"

"Preeclampsia affects the placenta, which is the roadwork for oxygen getting to the baby. It can affect development and the like, but currently the baby is fine. It is the proper weight and size and all seems well."

"Will she completely recover after the baby is born?"

"Yes. Within two weeks she should be back to her normal self."

Becca interjected before Wilson could ask another question. "What about sex?" Wilson shot her a look, but Becca didn't pay any mind to it. This had been the question on her mind all week, the question she really should have asked a while ago.

Dr. Van Zandt laughed. "Well, light activity is OK. That's why you're still in school. Moderate to demanding activity isn't."

"Please. Please don't tell us no. I can't go four months without sex." The doctor went to say something, but Becca cut her off. "Please."

Wilson turned to Becca before she could make herself look any more idiotic and immature. "Becca." He shook his head to tell her to stop.

"I'm sorry, but I just think it would be too risky. No sex until I tell you otherwise."

Wilson stroked his hand over Becca's right leg. She could tell he was jittery, probably from nerves, but she had no clue what he could be nervous about. The whole way there he was like this, and now it had gotten even worse. Becca didn't know what to do.

She put her hand on top of his. "Are you OK?"

"No."

"No?" She was surprised. Wilson usually had it together. "Why not?"

"This whole thing sounds really serious. A lot more serious than you made it out to be."

She quickly got defensive. "Are you accusing me of lying again? Because I told you-"

"That's not what I meant. I just meant that I'm worried about you."

"Why?" she questioned. "Because this is turning into a big deal? I'm not any worse off than I was when I woke up this morning. Just calm down." She squeezed his hand. "It will all be OK. I have faith in my doctor and myself."

Wilson reached out and kissed her. "I have faith in you, too."

"Good. Can we go home now? I have a lifetime worth of sitting to do."

He squeezed her hand and then let go of it. "Fine, drive."

A/N: Um, all of this information came offline, so if anything is wrong I'll take responsibility, but I'm just repeating what I found. This whole chapter bites, though. I hated it when I wrote it, I still hate it now.

Wilson is such a worry-wart. Review.