Thanks to all those who reviewed. I'm glad you're glad she's preggers!
ALERT!! ALERT!!
I started another story, stupid, I know. But, please read it! It's called IN MY LIFE. Please, read and review!!!!!
I'm trying to get all the info right on pregnancies, if you know a lot, send me a PM. Just give me an overview, please.
I'm going to have some fun with this, and add a new format change, thing. At the end of my little author's notes, I will have how far along she is.
Kaylee: Conception is like when the egg met the sperm, and all that, not her due date. Her due date is in July.
7 (almost eight) Weeks into Pregnancy
Named Hot Mess by Ashley Tisdale, not because of bf/gf drama, but from plain drama.
I was so tired, and so nauseous at the same time. Not a good combination. My morning sickness turned into all the time sickness, some of the time I could keep it down, other times I couldn't. Like now. Usually, after I throw up, brush my teeth, and chill for a while. Then, I get really hungry, then repeat the process. My mom, along with Troy's, calls twenty times a day, each, asking how I am. My mom even comes over every other day, to check up on me. It's getting annoying. My sister's are calling every couple days, that I don't mind as much.
My boobs are really sore, I seem to pee twice the amount I used to, and my skinny jeans already don't fit. Good thing I own more comfty, stretchy jeans that my cute skinny jeans. I'm tired more than I was during mid-term and final time in college, which was pretty damn tired. I've been taking one nap a day for the past week. The mood swings come and go, more go than come, thankfully. I snap once in a while, but not much. It's usually at a brother, or firefighter, sometimes Chad, and Troy, my mom once or twice. I get sentimental when Troy says something really sweet, or we watch Lifetime movies, or chick flicks.
Right now, it's a little past four in the morning, I think, and I am practically laying on the bathroom floor, half asleep, half ready to throw up for the third time in the past hour. I haven't got any sleep tonight, every time I do fall asleep, I have the weirdest dreams. Nothing drastic, just shapes, and colors, and me chasing strollers down hills, I even lost the baby once, but no worries, I found it in a tree. My mom said she had those dreams all the time, maybe it runs in the family or something.
"Brie," Troy's soft voice came from the doorway. I groaned in response. He walked around my head, careful not to step on my hair, then bent down next to me. "How long you been in here?" he questioned lightly.
My eyes fluttered open. "Since one thirtiesh, maybe, off and on," I answered honestly, yawning.
"Baby, you have to work in three hours," he reminded me through the darkness.
I groaned again. "I know. I'm so tired," I mumbled, my eyes drooping.
"Hunny, you can't go to work today. You can barely function," he stated, lifting me up from the ground.
"Noooo," I whined, letting him. My nausea was still there, but sleep was winning the battle of what I needed to do more. "I have to work," I insisted in a grumble as he layed me down on the bed.
Troy pulled the blankets over me. "No, you don't. Every day, you feel like crap, at least the other nights you could sleep for most the night, you've had maybe three hours tonight," he said, kissing my forehead. "Maybe if you weren't pregnant, you could work on that, but not now," he finished.
"I hate missing work," I whispered sleepily, taking in a deep breath of his smell, because it sometimes helps my stomach for some reason.
"It's not like you can't miss one day. You have so many days a year to miss, and you missed maybe two last year, if that. Sick days spill over, you'll be fine. One day will be good for you, you need the sleep," he stated, getting on his own side.
I nodded, knowing he was right. "I'll call the school when you get up for work," I agreed, snuggling into him. "Just.. let me smell you," I pleaded, burying my nose into his shirt.
Troy's fingers combed my hair in a soothing way, his lips connecting with my temple. "Do whatever you have to to sleep," he replied, lulling me to sleep very soon after.
I couldn't see what was going on, it was dark. Something was wrong though, terribly wrong, I could feel it.
Next thing I knew, I was standing in a place, the rooftop at school. The same rooftop Troy and I spent so many periods hanging out at in high school. The same place I try to make time to go to now. I was wearing a dress, too, a white dress, with an orange sweater over top. My stomach was bigger than is should be, I could tell, it was as if I was in the my sixth month.
I looked around. Troy was there, making me smile. He sensed I was looking at him, and turned his head towards me. He stared into my eyes. He didn't appear to be happy. I walked over. He stood from where he was sitting , and faced me. Sadness was laced in his eyes, his looked devastated.
"It's okay," he suddenly spoke up, frightening my for a second.
I was confused. "What's okay?" I wondered, grabbing one of his hands.
"That you couldn't do it," he replied, holding my hand tightly. It wasn't in a menacing manner, it was more reassuringly than tightly.
"What are you talking about?" I questioned, thinking for an answer. I am so confused.
"Gabriella," Troy said, his free hand settling on my stomach. As soon as he did, an excruciating pain ripped through me, making me cry out. Troy held onto to me, keeping me from falling. "Shh. Shh," he kept saying in my ear to calm me, to stop me.
Tears were in my eyes. "What's going on?" I asked, pulling away from him.
He stared straight into my eyes, as if he was seeing through me. Then, his eyes dropped to the ground. My eyes followed his. Blood was dripping down from me. I started shaking my head, knowing what it was. Miscarriage. The pain, the bleeding, I was losing the baby. "No!" I exclaimed, holding my stomach.
Troy kept his grip on me, not hurting me in any way. "It's okay, Gabriella," he repeated. "It's okay that you couldn't do it," he explained.
My eyes popped open to see Troy above me, showered, but not yet dressed. "Hey," he woke me with a smile, his fingers traveling down my cheek. "You need to call the school, it's a little before seven," he informed me.
I sat up, feeling under the covers for blood. There was none, nor was there any pain within me. Just confusion, worry, fear, and sleepiness. "What," I stopped to clear my throat. "What time is it?" I asked.
Troy turned his head towards the clock. "Six fifty four," he answered, looking at me with a concerned expression. "You alright?" he wondered.
I nodded, taking a few breaths. "Yeah, yeah, just," I stopped again. "More weird dreams," I told the truth, but not the whole truth. I was just a dream, he doesn't need to worry about it.
Troy nodded, too, then kissed me. "Come on, call the school, get something in your stomach, then go back to sleep," he insisted, hanging me the house food. "I'll get what you want, and bring it up here to you," he volunteered.
I quickly called the school, telling them I wouldn't be in school. After that, I reached a substitute, and I told her what I wanted my classes to do. When I was finished, Troy was dressed and ready for work.
"Alright, so what do you want to eat, I'm getting it," he reminded me, standing after getting his shoes on.
I thought about it for a second. "Um, I'm not really craving anything, so toast," I told him.
"So, toast, and," he waited for me to answer.
"Applejuice," I answered, holding back a yawn.
Troy nodded, agreeing to my choice. "I'll get it for you, then I gotta go to work," he said, kissed me, then went off.
Before he even came back, I was already almost asleep again. Almost, I was thinking about my weird dream a little. I've been trying not to let my dreams get to me since I know I always have odd ones. Troy woke me up again when he came back.
"Brie," he murmured, kissing my lips. "The toast and applejuice is next to you when you wake up, you should still eat it when you do, or eat something else," he instructed. Geez, show the man one website about pregnancy, and what I should be doing, and he thinks he knows everything. Okay, that would be a minor mood swing. I'm happy I didn't vocalize anything, Troy's been perfect this whole time.
I nodded. "Mmkay," I mumbled. "Love you," I added.
"I love you, too. Call me when you wake up, okay?" he asked, a hand on my stomach.
I smiled in my grogginess. "If you mean after my shower, and a snack, yes," I assured him.
He chuckled. "Okay."
I had the same dream, the same dream that ended the same way with 'It's okay, Gabriella. It's okay you couldn't do it' from Troy. This time, though, I woke with a start, sitting up a little when I did. It scared Minnie, who was on the bed. Minnie isn't really allowed on the bed, at least that's what Troy thinks, so she ran off.
I sat up, rubbing my eyes, ignoring my nausea. I turned to the clock, it was practically one. I felt well rested, and I hoped I would stay that way. I got up with a sigh, and went to shower. Once I was done, I had successfully not thrown up (for some reason, the shower helps) and still fit into my favorite white ripped jeans. (I took my prenatal vitamin, too. That is a given) I wore them with a gray sleeveless top that had a cool black line design on front. I put on black gladiator sandals with it. I dried my hair wavy, so it wasn't in curls. I had a few beaded bracelets, along with a necklace, and a little make up. I didn't feel like much, I knew I would be throwing up, moody, and most likely all around miserable later.
My dream wouldn't get out of my head. I wondered why I dreamt about it, I wasn't really thinking or dwelling on it. I'm not going to lie, it crossed my mind, but I never seriously thought about it. It was annoying me, but it also scared me. I can't let it come true. The miscarriage in high school was one thing, Troy and I weren't ready, I wasn't ready, it wasn't the right time, I could get through it and past it easily enough, as bad as that sounds. This, I couldn't, it would kill me, with loss, with guilt, with everything. I may be barely two months pregnant, but I already loved this baby. It's my baby, I've loved it since I thought I was pregnant, and I wasn't even sure because I was skeptical.
When I went downstairs, there was a number on the answering machine, meaning there were messages. It was a number three.
I pressed the button so I could hear them.
"Mija, are you there?" my mother's voice rang out of the machine, making me roll my eyes. "AJ texted me, and said he went by your room this morning. There was a substitute, are you feeling okay? I love you, call me," she said, then hung up. I erased it.
It beeped for the next one, along with telling me the time. "Gabi, sweetie," Mom, Lucy's voice, started. I crossed my arms, rolling my eyes again with a slight smile. Man, these women are presistant, I'll give them that. "I just called to see how you were, I talked to Troy, should I be worried?" she asked. Oh, my God, I'm pregnant, not dying. "Call me back when you wake up, I love you and Troy, you know that, bye," she ended, then hung up, too. I erased it.
There was another beep, and another time. It was when I was in the shower. I didn't hear that, heh. "Hey, babe," it was Troy this time. I smiled at this one. "I guess you are still asleep, which is good- no, shut up, Tommy. Fine. Tommy says hi," he informed me. "Can I talk to my wife now? Oh, I can, thank you," he went on with his friend, making me laugh. "Will you stop talking to me, I want to talk to her," he told him. "Will you go bother Gavin? Prank him while he's a asleep." There was a pause. "Yes, I'll defend you when Gavin wants to kill you after, now go," he ordered. "Okay, Brie, sorry, it's been a slow day. Anyways, my mom called, I may have mentioned you stayed home today, so watch who is calling unless you want a twenty question inquisition. Call me after you wake up, I want to know how you are feeling-" A loud noise was heard in the background-the fire alarm. My stomach sank. "Shit, baby, I love you, I hope you are feeling better. Call me in a little while. Bye."
I let out a deep breath, then saved the message. I pressed my hand to my stomach. "You better not get his braves, I don't care if being brave is good or not," I mumbled, not so hungry any more, just because I knew Troy was out, risking his life right now. I actually felt a little more nauseous.
Now, my miscarriage dream, and my husband's whereabouts where on my mind, which alone made me feel sick to my stomach. I got a glass of applejuice, something I seem to crave lately, and went into the living room. I called Shyanne to pass the time. I haven't spoken to her since the day after Thanksgiving when I told her I was pregnant.
"Preggers!" she squealed, answering the phone. "You throw up yet today?" she questioned. Oh so eloquent, ya know?
I smiled a little. "Technically? Yes, I spent three hours throwing up last night, then just about fell asleep on the bathroom floor," I answered. "Troy woke up because I wasn't next to him, and carried me back to bed."
"Aw, I knew I liked him for a reason. So, being pregnant basically sucks?" she asked.
I shrugged. "The first trimester, pretty much, yeah," I assured her. "But, I'm suffering through it, we tried for six months, it's not like I didn't ask for it," I reminded her.
"True," she agreed. "Adam and I had a baby discussion after we found out you were expecting your own little Bolton baby," she informed me. It made me smile just thinking about it, holding my baby in my arms. Only about seven more months to go, yeah, that's it. It's so close, and so far at the same time. We haven't even had the 'do you want a boy or a girl' talk yet. It's not like we have a chance anyways.
I turned on the t.v."Oh, yeah? What'd you decide, if you decided something," I replied.
"She wants to wait at least another year," Adam spoke up.
"Am I on speaker phone?" I wondered.
"Yes," Shyanne told me. "Adam is here, plus a few friends of ours," she added.
I let out a half-laugh. "Thanks for warning me," I said sarcastically. "Hi, Adam," I greeted, belated, I guess.
"Hi, Gabi, we miss you. Please tell Shyanne something good about being pregnant, I'm trying to knock that year down to six months," he admitted. Aw, Adam wants some babies.
"Uh, I can get people to do stuff for me because I am pregnant. Alex gave me a foot massage on Thanksgiving. I asked him as a joke, and when he said no, Marcus made him," I informed her.
People laughed. "Was it good?" Shyanne questioned.
"Surprisingly, yes," I answered. "It makes me wonder who he's given foot massages to," I thought aloud. "I fell cheated," I commented, picking up a magazine. Troy is still on the back of my mind, along with that dumb dream. "Shy, you were, like, a helping people people major, do dreams mean something?" I asked her.
She thought about it for a second. "Dreaming usually tells you about your state of awareness, how you feel about problems, what you know, that kind of thing. Then again, we only remember the bizarre of strange dreams, it's been said that the ones we don't remember are boring, routine ones, you know? Some dreams are just trully from no where, though. I dreamt about being a banana the other night," she answered. I laughed. "Why, are you dreaming odd? Pregnant women usually do."
"I've always dreamt odd," I insisted. "I just- my dream from last night is something I can't shake, it was probably another pregnancy dream," I sighed. "So-" I stopped when a funny feeling, a bad feeling, struck my heart. My breath caught in my throat, my heart sped up, worry grew within me. Something is wrong with Troy, I just know it, I can tell. It's the same feeling I had when he got hurt last time. "Sh-Shyanne, I have to go," I said quickly with shaky hands as I stood up.
She knew I sounded off. "Are you okay, Gabi?" she wondered.
"I- yeah, I just have to call you later, bye," I told her, hanging up. I quickly dialed the firehouse. My hand couldn't stop shaking, my nausea grew. I wasn't sure why, nerves, nervousness, worry, pregnancy, all the above, probably.
It rang for a while. Dan usually picks up the first or second ring. No. Come on. "Hello-"
I cut the person, who wasn't Dan, off. "Hi, this is Gabriella, Troy's wife," I told the unknown person in a worried voice. "Is he there?" I questioned.
"Troy? No, they are out on a job," unknown person answered. No. No, no, no, no. Please, no.
Tears formed in my eyes. "Can you tell him to call me when he gets back?" I asked. "It's an emergency."
"Are you okay?" the guy asked, probably knowing I am pregnant.
"Um, not really, but yes at the same time. Can you please just tell him to call me as soon as he gets in," I pleaded.
Ther person 'mm-hmed' me "Of course," he said.
I didn't reply, just hung up. "Damn it," I swore, throwing the phone. Nothing can happen to him, I can't take it, I need him, our baby needs him, we can't live without him. Nausea grew within me, to the point where I went running for the bathroom, tears rolling down my face. I threw up into the toilet, feeling more sick by the second. When I was done, which seemed such a long time later, but I knew could only be a minute or three, I was still crying. I flushed the the tiolet, and rinsed my mouth out with Linterine, that we know kept down there for when I throw up, just to get the taste out of my mouth.
He has to be okay, he has to, it would be unfair for him not to be. I stood at the sink, watching myself cry while the feeling in my heart stayed. This can't be real, it's a dream, another dream. I can't go through this, not right now, I'm pregnant, and he promised. He promised he would never leave me, he promised he would be there to raise our children, what if he or she never gets the chance to meet him? No, don't think like that, he's okay, he promised, he doesn't break his promises. He won't.
I was trying to stop my crying when the phone rang. I took off in a run, grabbing the phone that I had thrown across the room. The caller ID wasn't the firehouse, it was the hospital. "No," I cried, falling to my knees.
I rushed into the ER about fifteen minutes later, a black jacket on, tear tracks down my cheeks. I went straight to the desk. "I need to know here Troy Bolton is," I told the person at the desk, a lady.
She saw my face. "Are you a relative, and what was the name?" she asked, her hands ready on the computer keys.
"I'm his wife, and his name is Troy Bolton. He's a firefighter," I informed her.
She typed it in. "He's down the hall, room 159," she told me.
I didn't even say anything back before starting down the hall. The only thing that went through my mind at the moment was that he wasn't dead, he was alive, he was here, in room 159, breathing. The next thing that went through my mind was how bad was it? A burn, a broken bone? Something worse? What was worse? Why him? I finally reached the room down the longest hall that had to be known to man, and practically threw it open. Troy wasn't alone, Tommy was there. He was awake, he didn't look burned, nor have any casts on his arms, or any limbs I could see.
"I'm okay," he instantly told me, making me cry, then sprint for him, dropping my purse to the ground. I didn't care about anything but hugging him, feeling his arms around me, his breath on my neck. I was crying, almost hystercally into his shoulder, and holding him tight. "I'm fine, Brie, I swear," he assured me, his arms wound around me. His hands were moving up and down against my back to help sooth me.
"I'm gonna go hit on a nurse or something," I faintly heard Tommy mumble before leaving.
Neither of us moved. "Baby, I'm okay, please stop crying," Troy said softly. I know he hates seeing me crying, but I really don't care right now. He can deal with it.
I shook my head. "Stop crying?" I hiccupped, taking in his smell. He doesn't smell normal. He smells like smoke, and bad hospital cleaner. "You're in the hospital, I've been crying for the last half an hour," I told him, not moving away from him at all. "You know I can tell when you get hurt in my heart, I don't know how, but I can."
"I wish they didn't even call you," he admitted into my ear. "I'm literally fine. No broken bones, no concussion, nothing, I'll be sore for a little while, that's all," he confessed. "They called when I was unconcious, so I couldn't tell them not to. I would have rather called you myself, and told you I got hurt, but not badly."
My crying slowed. He had been unconcious. God I hate this. "What h-happened?" I asked, pulling away slightly so I could look at his face.
"Nothing bad," he answered, wiping my tears away. "I'm so sorry I worried you," he apologized. "I love you, you know I didn't mean to."
"I'm mad at you," I stated, resting my forehead on his. "Do you have any idea how scared I was? I'm pregnant, Troy!" I reminded him, shaking my head. "You know I can tell you are hurt before the hospital calls, I was so," I stopped, knowing I was repeating myself but I couldn't help it. I didn't know how to convey how I felt, it was so.. undescribable. "I love you, too," I whispered.
He looked like a guilty child who was being scolded by his mother. "I know, trust me, I know," he insisted. I wasn't sure what he said I know to. "I'm sorry," he repeated.
"You can't just do this to me," I told him. "You could've been," I stopped again.
"Hey, baby," Troy started, pulling me back to him. "I'm fine. I get a few days off of work, I'm just going to be sore. They're giving me pain killers, I'm alright," he told me again. He kissed me on the lips, making my eyes close as I kissed him back.
As we kissed, the door opened, causing us to pull away. It was Tommy. "What happened?" I questioned Tommy, turning around some. "He isn't really telling me," I said.
Tommy came closer. "Well," he started. "We were out on a job, of course, at this huge mansion. This house was huge, Gabi, I'm telling you," he stated. "It was a bad one, too. So, we were trying to save the house, when there was this explosion underneath us. You can guess who was right on top of it," he said.
I glanced at Troy.
"Right in one," Tommy answered. "Since this mansion was so huge, Troy didn't really hit the ceiling, it's probably good he didn't, it would've messed up his head. Anyways, he flew across the room, kinda diagnally, hitting the wall of the other side, then fell to the ground. He got knocked out from the hit, so we didn't know what was really wrong with him. We were worried if he broke his tailbone again or something, we brought him in, and they x-rayed him. No bones are broken, no concussion, he's just have a helluva body ache for a while. He gets a couple days off because of it," he explained.
Troy squeezed my hand. "See? Gabriella, I'm fine," he restated.
"The man is, and since you're here, I gotta get back to the firehouse. You know, finish my shift. I asked Dan if I could stay until you came, I rode in the ambulance with him," he informed me.
I left Troy to hug Tommy. "Thank for looking out for him," I whispered in his ear.
"I always do, Gab, he's like my brother," he replied. We let go a moment later. "I'll stop by later tonight, Troy, if not, then tomorrow," he told him, sending a wave his way.
I went back to Troy. "Alright, man, see you then," Troy responded, patting the bed next to him for me to sit down. Tommy left quickly after.
"When can you leave?" I asked Troy, resting a hand on his cheek.
"They're already discharging me," he answered, kissing me again. "How long will you be mad at me?" he wondered out of curiosity.
I sniffled, shrugging. "Until I feel like it," I told him. He seemed to accept this answer as the door opened. It was a doctor.
"Ah, Troy, this must be the wife you said would be mad at you?" the man asked, walking in, looking at Troy's chart.
I glared. "The very one," Troy assured him, holding me.
"If he didn't tell me you were pregnant, I'd guess you were. You are glowing, even though you do look sad," he told me nicely.
I nodded, wiping my face some more. "I am," I replied. "And, thanks, I think," I mumbled.
The doctor chuckled. "Well, Troy, you're good to go. You just have to sign out at the front desk. Your clothes are over there," he pointed at the chair across the room.
Dr Epples left a few minutes later after prescribing a pain killer to him. He also recommended no sex for about a week. Yeah, like I'm going to want to have sex with him after scaring the hell out of me. Besides, I feel like crap anymore, so our sex life has been a little dormant. I had to help him put his pants on because it hurt a little to bend, that and he was stiff.
On the way home, we stopped to get Troy's pain killers, and called Tommy about bringing Troy's car home. "You're not moving for the rest of the day," I was telling Troy as we walked into our house.
"Gabr-"
"You're going to change out of those clothes, then park your ass on the couch. I don't care what you say," I cut him off.
"Brie-"
"I'm calling your mother, Troy, don't think I'm not," I informed him, ignoring his interruptions. I put my purse down on the bar, still ranting. "And, I'm in the mood for Chinese, like usual, so we're having that for dinner. I'm going to have to make you something to eat right now so you can take those pills in an hour," I mentioned off the top of my head, heading for the kitchen.
Troy's hand caught me, stopping me. "Can you shut up for a minute, please?" he asked nicely, I think. I stopped, and blinked. "How are you feeling?" he questioned.
"I'm fine. I'm not the one that was thrown into the air, and against a wall today," I reminded him. "Can I make you something now?" I wondered.
He raised his eyebrows. "With the way you cook? No, thanks," he answered. "I can make something for myself. But, how do you really feel?" he asked again.
"Troy, you're supposed to be resting, not making food. I can make you sandwich, I'm not that challenged when it comes to cooking. I really feel fine, no nausea, I'm not tired, although I am a little mood swingy, so I wouldn't mess with me. Now, go upstairs and change!" I ordered, pointing at the steps.
He pretended to be angry, I could tell. "Fine! Geez, blame man for asking his pregnant wife how she is," he mumbled grumpily. "I'll try to get into my pants by myself," he added in a childish way up the steps.
I made him a sandwich as he got changed, which took about ten minutes longer than it should have. I also may have lied so he wouldn't start taking care of me. I am very nauseous, and a little tired, which I think is unfair because I slept for a good amount of time today. Maybe it's because of those weird dreams. Once I finished with his sandwich, I went to the bathroom, just in case I did throw up. I was able to keep it down, though, at least I thought so. I had went pee, washed my hands, and was going for the door, when I quickly turned around, and vomitted into the toilet.
After I washed my mouth out, I opened the bathroom door only to find Troy right ouside. "Yeah, you're fine," he said sarcastically. He crossed his arms, leaning against the doorway. His look made me feel guilty. "You, Gabriella Bolton, are a liar," he accused.
I gasped. "Am not! I made your sandwich, I see you already bit into, so your welcome, and it smelled bad," I informed him. "So, I threw up, sue me," I responded.
"Just admit you feel like crap," he insisted. "You're pregnant, you're throwing up, your husband got hurt today, so just say it," he encouraged.
I glared. "I'm calling your mother!" I exclaimed, going around him for the phone.
He stole the phone from me as I reached it. "Not until you say it," he said, holding the phone above my head.
"You know, you're feeling pretty fine for a man who was thrown across a room today," I mentioned, reaching for the phone.
"It's called pain killers, they work, just admit it," he repeated.
I glared some more. "Fine, I feel like crap," I admitted.
He smiled, handing me the phone. "Alright, call my mother," he agreed, kissing me cheek, then went back to his sandwich with a victorious smile.
"Keep on smiling, let's see what your mother thinks about this," I said, dialing her number. She picked up soon after. "Hi, Mom, you'll never guess what happened to your son today," I started, and Troy didn't look so manly now.
Lucy paused. "What idiotic thing did he do?" she asked.
"He got thrown into the air, against a wall, fell to the ground, and ended up in a hospital," I answered her.
"I need to speak with him," she said calmly.
I smiled. "Of course," I agreed, handing him the phone. "She wants to talk to you, babe," I told him as he reached for it.
I could hear yells from here. "Ma-" Troy stopped, annoyed. "Mom, I know," he insisted. He whined. "That's not fair! Don't pull the full name thing, I'm not fifteen. The only one who can do that to me now is Gabriella. You can't ground me, we don't live in the same state," he reminded her. "I don't care what Mom says, or did, she couldn't ground us, and neither can you." He looked scared after that. "No, I'm not challenging you! Please don't fly out- Mom, I know she's pregnant. Yes, I really do know, I was there. Mom!" he cried like a toddler. "Fine, I will! Yes, I will. Yes! I will. Okay- Brie, I'm sorry for being a big stupid man, and getting hurt," he apologized to me. "I won't do it again, hopefully- Mom, let me do it if you're making me! I won't do it again, and you have every right to not let me touch you forever, happy, Mother?" he asked. I was holding back a laugh, happy to forget all the stress of that day for this moment. "Yes, I just Mothered you," he stated. "I don't care, send her over, I can take it. Fine! Bye," he hung up. "You're so evil," he muttered, looking at me.
"Maybe you should have been nicer to me, fireman," I commented.
"She's calling your mother," he informed me.
I ohhed. "I'm scared. Now, finish eating, I'm going to go get the toast and applejuice from upstairs so I can do the dishes real quick," I told him, bypassing him. He slapped my butt on the way. "Hey!"
"What? Your mother is going to be here soon, ready to kill me, give me a few moments of happiness," he pleaded as I went up the steps.
I went upstairs, letting the fear of what could've happened to him fill my heart. I needed a few minutes alone, just a few minutes to think. I leaned against the wall, breathing in and out evenly. He's okay, he's downstairs, eating. He didn't break his promise, he's hugged you, kissed you, told you he loves you, he's fine.
After a few minutes, I pushed off the wall to go into the bedroom. I grabbed the uneaten toast, along with the half empty glass of applejuice to bring downstairs. I was out in the hall, almost to the steps when a pain went through my stomach, stopping me. I gasped loudly, dropping what I was holding. They didn't break, but the applejuice spilled. I fell against the wall, my arms clutching my stomach as another pain made itself known. It was a pain like the one I had in my dreams. I cried out in pain.
No, this can't happen. "Troy!" I called out, tears falling down my cheeks already. "Troy!"
Troy was already on his way up the stairs. "Gabriella," he muttered, running over to me. "What's wrong?" he asked, fearing the answer he already knew.
I shook my head. "My stomach. I can't lose this baby, Troy, I can't," I whimpered, wincing at more pain.
He shook his head. "You won't," he assured me, his arms already sliding under my legs, and middle.
"Troy, I-" I started as he lifted me up.
"Brie, look at me," he said, so I looked into his eyes. "You won't lose the baby, I promise. Come on," he said quickly, but carefully, going down the steps.
That was the last thing I remembered, because I passed out.
I woke to an annoying beeping. I felt something that I guessed to be lips on my hand. Then, something solid came in contact with my hand, and hair fell all around. It took me a moment to come to the conclusion that it was a forehead. I opened my eyes to see a bright light. I cleared my throat, causing Troy's head to shoot up.
"Brie," he murmured, his eyes red. As soon as he said it, he was hugging me as best he could.
I tried to hug him back, but it was hard. "Troy, the baby," I reminded him in a crack, making him pull away. "It's okay, right? Everything is okay?" I asked.
He rested his forehead on mine. "I don't know," he answered truthfully.
Fear overcame me. "What do you mean you don't know, I didn't have a- a," I couldn't say it. "Did I?" I questioned.
"I mean, I don't know. They examined you when I brought you in, but they didn't tell me much. They said they needed an ultrasound to confirm anything, but wouldn't do one until you woke up," Troy explained.
"Get a doctor, then, I'm awake," I demanded.
Troy nodded, pressing a button next to me, which called for a nurse. "I don't blame you," he stated sitting down next to me. "I know you better than you know yourself, and I really don't think this is the best time to play the blame game," he informed me.
Tears formed in my eyes. "I'm a woman, Troy, this is what I'm supposed to do, make babies. I keep messing up, first I had a miscarriage, then it took us six months-"
"Five, it took us five," he corrected. "And, you're perfectly fine. You had a fertility test, Dr. Hastings said your fine, I know your fine. Don't blame yourself, okay? We don't need that right now," he insisted. "They said the pain was because of stress, and they asked what could've brought it on," he admitted.
I shook my head. "Don't blame yourself, Troy," I whispered, grabbing onto his hand. "If I-" I stopped. "If I lo-"
"You didn't," Troy assured me. "This postively, okay? I promised you you wouldn't, and I meant it," he said.
"I want to know now, Troy. I want an ultrasound now. I need to know if our baby is healthy, and completely fine," I stated. "I need to know if I ruined everything or not."
Right after I said that, the door opened, and a nurse walked in. "Mrs. Bolton, you're finally awake," she stated the obvious. Oh, she's a smart one.
"I need to know if our baby is okay," I instantly told her.
She nodded. "I already paged the doctor, he's on his way, and he'll do an ultrasound for you," she assured me. "While he's on his way, I need to know what you ate today," she said.
I blinked. I'm so stupid. "I didn't," I answered honestly, guilt flowing through me. "I called off of work because I spent half the night throwing up, I needed the sleep. Troy made me toast this morning, but I fell asleep before I could eat it. I woke up around one, and showered. After, I was nauseous, so I didn't eat. Then, Troy got hurt, so I had to go to the hospital. When we got home, I still didn't feel good, I threw up again, and this happened," I told her. She nodded, then wrote something down. "Is that bad?" I asked, afraid.
"It's normal for pregnant women who are as nauseous as you are not to be too hungry when they do feel that way. But you should remember that the baby is taking everything from you, if you have nothing to give, it's not good," she insisted. In what way not good? So, this is my fault? Damn it, I hate hospitals. Where is Taylor when you need her? Not at work today, that is where she is.
"When will the doctor be here?" Troy spoke up, rubbing my hand reassuringly.
The nurse looked at the clock, then back to my chart. "Any moment now," she answered. "He'll be giving you the ultrasound."
Any moment now, I'll know how my baby is, if there still is a baby.
Here it is. If the pregnancy stuff is off, sorry.
I'm trying to get all of this right.
Sorry for the cliffie, too, but I couldn't resist. XD I'm evil.
Review please.
-- Kayleigh