alvernogrl – thank you!

Chapter 54

The feathery touch to the skin of her stomach woke her up. Her mind still groggy from sleep, she slightly opened her eyes to find Max with his head resting on her belly. He looked at her, startled, as her hand crept into the mass of dark hair on his head.
"Hey," he whispered, his eyes dark in the humble lightning of the early morning. "Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you."
"Max," Liz mumbled. "What are you doing?"
He had pushed her nightgown upwards to expose her naked skin and she could feel the warmth of his fingers softly pressing against her stomach.
"Nothing," Max whispered and granted her with a small self-conscious smile before moving up beside her, aligning his strong body with hers.
"You know, you're going to make our poor child sleep-deprived if you keep talking to her that much," Liz said.
Resting his weight on his elbows, he stretched out and smothered the hair away from her forehead before adorning it with a kiss. Complimenting her cheeks and the tip of her nose with kisses as well, he came to rest his forehead against hers, looking into her eyes, feeling the presence of her lips less than an inch away.
"You're going to make me sleep-deprived," Liz continued, very aware of the proximity to Max's body.
"I needed to tell her something," Max answered, his lips teasingly brushing against hers with every word.
"Really?" Liz moaned, his traitorous fingers moving further up her body, under the nightgown. "What's that?"
"That, my love," his hand brushed against her breast and he captured her gasp with his lips, sensually slowly touching her lips, "is a secret between her and me."

"Hey," Liz protested, and she had to struggle, in more ways than one, to be able to push him away from her and onto his back. As she hovered over him she was unaware of the opposite effect her attempt at putting him in his place was having on him. "If your discussions disturb me as well, I think I have the right to know what those discussions…" His hands, cradling her cheeks ever so gently, halted her sentence, causing the last words to weakly whisper through the air, "…are about."
"I love you."
The honesty she could hear in his voice and the love she could see in his eyes heightened his statement until it was rolling down her spine in rivulets of goosebumps. Leaning down to kiss him, she responded softly, "I love you too."
His fingers were threading through her hair, his eyes looking up at her longingly. "I've been thinking."
"Good for you, Max," Liz smiled.
In a quick sweep, Liz unexpectedly found herself on her back and before she even had the chance to voice her surprise, Max was kissing her neck.
"Besides," Liz said breathlessly, angling her head to grant Max better access, "what are you doing thinking at six in the morning? And do you know what day it is?"
"Sunday," Max answered, his voice creating vibrations against her skin and her leg unconsciously draped over the back of his thigh.
"And what do people normally do on Sundays?"
"Some go to church… actually, if I remember correctly it's the day God rested and I'm sure there was complete silence on Earth on that day of rest."
Liz pulled back to look at him through narrowed eyes. "What are you implying? That I talk too much?"
"At the moment," he kissed down her neck, pushing the strap of her nightgown out of way to trace her collarbone, "yes."
"You started it," Liz countered.
Kissing down between the valley of her breasts, eliciting another moan from her lips, Max smiled against her skin. His lips lingered there before looking up at her while resting his chin on her chest.

"I think it's time to discuss names," he said. They had avoided the subject out of fear that a name would increase the attachment value to the baby; something they weren't willing to do while there was still a large risk that the baby might die. But Max thought it was about time to plan for the future. "Any suggestions?"
Liz looked at him incredulously. "Are you telling me that you woke me up to talk about names?"
"You're so cute when you're cranky," Max said.
Liz resisted the urge to smack him. "Max, it's-" she glanced at the digital clock on the nightstand, "6.20 a.m.. Anyone would be cranky at this time."
Her voice took on a softer tone and she kissed him on the forehead. "Actually, I have thought of a name."
Noticing her sudden shyness, Max slid further up her body, burying his face in the crook of her neck. The heat from his body encased her as his naked chest pressed up against the exposed skin at the top of her gown and she could feel the rhythmic beating of his heart against her breast.
"Tell me." His voice was distorted, coming from the warmth and security of her neck. There were a couple of seconds of silence before she responded, the breath she held as she voiced the name exposing how highly she felt in her heart that the baby she was carrying was supposed to carry the name on her mind for the rest of its life.
"Miranda."

Silence and immobility followed, seconds stretching far too long for Liz's comfort, but after what was in reality only five seconds, Max lifted his head and met her eyes. She briefly saw his joy and contentment sparkle in the brown color before he turned his head away from her, directing his eyes to her stomach. Kicking the sheets slightly out of his way, Max eased himself down the length of the bed, brushing against Liz's body unknowingly but ever so enticingly. He rose to his knees next to her stomach and positioned his hands against the protrusion, his hands dark in contrast to her milky skin. His entire attention on the baby resting on the other side of the protective integument, Max spoke in a voice that made Liz tear up. "Hello sweetie. Mommy and I have talked, and you know what? You are now Miranda. How about that?"
"Do you like it?" Liz asked and swallowed when she heard the teary quality of her voice.
Max looked at her and took a hold of her hand, lacing their fingers together. "It's perfect. Just like you." Turning back to her belly, he tenderly kissed it, sealing the bond between a father and a daughter with a kiss. "And you."
"Any suggestions for a boy's name?" Liz asked, wiping a runaway tear off her cheek.
"Now, why would we need that? We already know it's a girl, right?"
They didn't really. They hadn't medically confirmed it.
"Just in case?"
"Liz, this is Miranda. There's no doubt in my mind that you are carrying a Miranda."
Liz smiled, nodding while tears silently rolled down her cheeks. "Okay."

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"Thank you, again, for doing this, Michael," Liz said as Michael picked up another box off the floor.
"If you don't stop thanking me already, I might just hurt you," Michael said. Liz laughed at his gruff tone of voice. Glancing over at her over his shoulder, he shrugged. "I don't mind."
Smiling to herself, Liz picked up a photo frame from the box Michael had positioned on the dining table and her movements slightly halted as she saw the small boy staring back at her. Joshua. Unconsciously stroking her pregnant stomach, she slowly placed the frame on the table. A thought occurred to her then. An idea.
"Michael?"
She assumed that the huff she got in reply meant that Michael was listening and continued, "Do you know anyone that are good at making photo collages? You know, digital art?"
Michael turned towards her, looking at her with a blank expression. "Uhm… yes, I know someone. He's rather good. What did you have in mind?"
Liz lifted the frame off the table surface and gave it to him. Michael got a wistful expression on a face, an emotion that passed quickly before he looked up from the photo. "You want to make a collage of Josh?"
Suddenly not so sure that it was a good idea, Liz nodded insecurely. "Do you think Max would like that?"
Michael looked down at the photo again, contemplating her question. His eyes remained trained on the photo as he answered. "Yes, I think he would like that."
With a rush of excitement over this new project, Liz bit her lower lip to prevent her smile from exploding. "Uhm… I think he has some more photos upstairs. I'll go and look."
"Okay," Michael said absent-mindedly and returned to what he had been doing.

Liz had fallen in love with their new house from the second Max had put the house keys in her hand, but climbing the beautiful stairs had proved to be an ever increasing challenge. Feeling the weight of her abdomen pulling downwards by the force of gravity, Liz was tired after merely seven steps. She pressed her hand against the belly and tightened her hold on the rail, and ignored her sharp breathing in her ears. Her forehead was glistering with sweat when she reached the top step and she had to stop for a few seconds to get her breathing back under control. While she stood there, making herself take deeper and slower breaths, she felt something wet spread through her panties. Frowning, she looked down at herself, seeing a darkening of her pants spread along the side of one of the legs and she frowned. Did she just wet herself? She hadn't even felt the need to go to the toilet. As she straightened up to walk into the direction of the bathroom, it hit her.
"Oh no…" she whispered.
It was too early. It was a month too early.
"Stay calm, stay calm," she told herself, while her heart was racing away. Getting herself worked up would only make the situation worse. Get Michael. She needed to get to Michael. She turned around and looked down the long stairs, putting one foot on the first step with the intention of going down when she felt a sharp pain in her stomach. She doubled over, her hand gripping the rail tightly. It lasted only for a few seconds, but it was enough to knock the wind out of her.
Fearfully, she looked down the stairs. "Stay calm, stay calm."
Not seeing Michael where she had left him, she could feel the panic build up inside. "Michael!"

She was taken aback by the strength of her voice, and apparently, so was Michael who appeared around the doorway, looking up at her with an unreadable expression. "What?"
Stay calm. Stay calm.
"I need you to call Max."
"Max's at work," Michael answered.
Liz closed her eyes, focusing on her breathing. Thank you, Michael, for stating the obvious. "Yes, Michael, I know that. But you need to call him. Tell him to call Dr. Reynolds and let them know that they need to prepare for the caesarean today."
Michael gaped at her. "What?"
"My water just broke, and I'm having contractions."
"I thought you said you were not going to have the C-section until a month from now."
Liz closed her eyes again. Out of all people, why was she with Michael when her water broke?
"I guess the baby didn't get the memo. You might want to call an ambulance as well…" Her hand tightened around the rail, "…I'm not feeling too well."
Michael took a step towards the stairs, seeing her sway. "Liz?"
"I'm fine. I'm fine. Please, Michael. You need to call Max."
Michael looked at her for a long second, before running up the stairs, taking two steps at the time.
Liz stared up at him as he towered protectively over her. "Michael, what…? I just told you-"
"Look, Max is going to kill me if he finds out that I just left you like this." Before she had a chance to react, Michael had scooped her up in his arms and was carrying her towards the bedroom. "And I don't think he would've been too happy if you had fainted and fallen down the stairs and broken your neck."

He laid her down on the bed cover, as if she was made out of glass, a tenderness Liz never knew Michael possessed. Before she had the chance to ponder that fact any further, another contraction hit her and its suddenness tricked a cry over her lips. When the pain disappeared, she noticed Michael's hand caressing her forehead and looking at her worriedly.
"Michael, what are you still doing here?"
"You okay?"
"Yes, yes, I'm fine. Just get Max, okay?" If she hadn't been panicking she might've felt guilty about the harshness of her voice, but Michael didn't seem to notice as he nodded and disappeared. For the next ten minutes, she was lying on the bed, staring at the ceiling, only partly aware of how Michael was hovering around the bed. It was the longest ten minutes of her life and it did nothing to lessen her worry about the baby.
"Liz?"
"Yes," she said.
"The ambulance is here. Do you want to wait for Max?"
Liz looked up at Michael and shook her head. "I need to get to the hospital. Tell Max to go to the hospital."
She had suspected that Max wouldn't make it in time. The school where he worked was a twenty minutes drive from where they lived.
"I've got her," Michael told the ambulance men as they walked into the room and before Liz had the chance to protest, Michael had lifted her up again and was carrying her out of the room and down the stairs.

Michael lowered her on the stretcher and she managed to catch his hand before he jumped out of the ambulance. "Thank you, Michael."
He just nodded, a perfect model of shock, and then he was gone.
"Don't worry, Ms. Parker, it will be fine," one of the ambulance men assured her. She nodded inattentively, her eyes focusing on the backdoors as they were closing. Before the doors closed completely, something stopped the ambulance man on the other side and Liz could hear voices. His voice. Relief washed over her. She started crying when she saw him jump into the ambulance. Seeing her tears, lying there on that stretcher in the ambulance, his heart almost stopped.
"Baby," he said, his hands in her hair, caressing her cheeks, his mouth kissing her tears and his arms pulling her into his arms.
"It's too early," she cried into his shirt.
"It's going to be okay. It's going to be okay."
"She's not ready to come out."
His arms tightened around her as he mumbled soothing words into her hair. When she bent forward as another contraction hit, he, almost instinctively, rubbed the small of her back without loosening his hold on her. He remembered how nervous and panicked he had been when Tess had gone into labor with Josh, but all of those feelings were not present at this moment. He knew how important it was that Liz remained as calm as possible and he was going to do everything in his power to remove her fears.

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"How are you feeling, Liz?"
Liz smiled weakly at the nurse, squeezing Max's hand tighter. "Okay."
"That's good. Everything is going okay. You just relax."
Liz's eyes wandered to the mint green colored sheet blocking her vision from the operation, before she looked up at Max who, clad in matching mint green, was alternating between watching the procedure on the other side of the sheet and watching over her. Their eyes met and she could see the reassuring smile in his eyes even though the facial mask prevented her from seeing it on his lips.
"What's going on?"
Max glanced over the sheet, still trying to get past the sight of all the blood as the doctor cut through the layers of skin and mesentery. "They haven't gotten into the uterus yet."
Liz nodded, worry prominent in her eyes. At her expression, Max kneeled next to her, so that his face ended up level with her shoulder. She turned her head to look at him and he squeezed her hand. "You're doing fine."
She nodded, strange conflicting feelings tearing inside of her. She wanted the child to come out so that she wouldn't be exposed to Liz's immunosuppressive drugs any longer, but at the same time she wanted the child to remain in her womb and not come out until she was fully equipped to handle the harsh outside world.
"Hey," Max said, demanding her attention, "remember all those baby books we've read? We know better than anyone that a baby born in week 35 is usually just as well developed as a full-term baby."
"I know," Liz agreed. She knew all of that. Still, she was afraid that her case would be different. Her case was different. Even though the baby was only one month premature, she might still have a low birth weight and that would affect her chances of survival.

Her train of thought was interrupted by a loud cry. A baby's cry. Her baby's cry. She looked up at Max, desperate to hear his confirmation to what she was hearing, but his head was turned into the direction of the sound. She knew that the baby would be rushed off directly, to be supplied with oxygen and to prevent it from getting cold, but she was hoping that maybe she would see her before.
"It's a girl, Mr. Evans," the doctor told Max and he barely noticed the tears flowing down his cheeks as he followed the very small baby's trip towards the back of the room, until he couldn't see her anymore.
"It's a girl, Liz," he said, turning to Liz. She was smiling at him, but as the increasing distance between him and his newborn daughter diminished the screams, his ears picked up on the beeping of the ECG that was hooked up to Liz. It was telling him that her heart was beating, but even though he was not a doctor, it was also telling him that her heart was not beating regularly. Before he had a chance to ask the question, a nurse leaned over Liz.
"Liz? How are you feeling?"
"Is the baby okay?" Her voice was weak and Max felt the ice-cold hand of dread squeeze his heart.
"It's a very healthy baby girl," the nurse answered. "But you have to focus on you now, Liz."
"I'm kinda dizzy," Liz mumbled, her words becoming more incoherent. Max watched in horror as her eyes drifted close and he heard his own voice scream 'no', blending with the incessant high-pitched flatline signal from the ECG. Hands were pushing at him, trying to separate his hand from hers. Voices were yelling around him, words he understood but didn't want to hear. Heart has stopped. Losing blood.
"Mr. Evans. You need to step outside."
With his life collapsing before his very eyes, he was led out of the room. Through the plastic window in the green door closing in front of him, he watched Liz's body jolt as electricity was sent through her unresponsive body. Again and again…

TBC...