A/N: Thank you to everyone who reviewed the last chapter, and to my fantastic beta reader, Rosalie!
WARNING: A mild warning still applies to those who are in the last trimester of pregnancy. This chapter provides an explanation of what went wrong, so if you're the type to read something and worry about it happening to you, I'd avoid this chapter until after you deliver.
Chapter 56: Tris – Children
(Tris is 30, Caleb is 31, Tobias is almost 33, Abigail is 4 3/4, and Eli was just born)
Dr. Martinez seems tired and serious when she enters my recovery area.
"It's good to see you awake," she comments as she checks the readings on the myriad machines that are connected to me and then starts listening to different parts of my abdomen with her stethoscope. "You gave us all a good scare."
"So I gather," I mutter, looking at Tobias again. I'm still too groggy to assess my condition accurately, but it must have been bad for his face to be this red and splotchy. And for him to be keeping a constant hand on me, as if he's afraid I'll vanish if he lets go. "What exactly happened?"
The doctor's mouth flattens as she stands back, making eye contact for the first time since walking through the curtain. "You developed a condition that we call uterine atony, where the uterus fails to contract enough to stop the bleeding after childbirth. The condition causes hemorrhaging, which became severe in your case."
She sighs. "It's probably a good thing that we were doing a Caesarean. If you had had that level of bleeding after a vaginal birth, I'm not sure we could have stopped it in time."
It's a sobering statement, and beside me, I can feel Tobias stiffen, his hand tightening on mine.
"I guess it's a good thing Eli was so big," I murmur, realizing that he indirectly saved my life that way.
Dr. Martinez purses her lips, debating that. "Maybe. His size might have been a factor in the atony, though it might have occurred anyway. There's no way to be sure. But overall, I suppose if he was going to be large, it was better for him to be large enough to require surgery."
She pauses, her expression serious, and I realize that she's about to add something that she'd rather not say. It makes my insides squeeze uncomfortably.
"The bleeding was truly severe, and extremely difficult to stop. We did everything possible, including giving you multiple blood transfusions, but ultimately we had to perform an emergency hysterectomy. I'm sorry."
It's a straight-forward statement, but it takes a moment to sink into my fuzzy head. When it does, the word echoes all the way through me. Hysterectomy.
"We were able to leave your ovaries in place," she continues, though I barely hear her at this point. "So, your hormone levels will remain normal."
"I can't have any more children?" I blurt out, interrupting her. I can't focus past that thought.
"I'm sorry," she says again, looking like she genuinely means it, "but no."
We're all silent as I try to make sense of this. I haven't even seen Eli yet, and any possibility of giving him another sibling has already been removed.
Vaguely, I realize that Dr. Martinez is talking again, but I can't process any more. Images keep floating through me of what might have been, both better and worse than the reality I'm facing. I don't understand how this happened.
Eventually, the doctor pats me reassuringly on the arm, says something final to Tobias, and leaves the two of us alone. I watch the curtain ripple shut behind her, feeling like it's the door that has just been closed in my life.
"Tris," Tobias says softly, moving his free hand to cup my cheek. "This doesn't change anything, you know. Not really."
My eyes turn to him, but I can't seem to come up with words. How can this not change things?
His voice is thick as he continues. "After today, there's no way I would have risked another child anyway. This just keeps me from having to get a vasectomy." He gives a crooked half-smile. "And I don't mind skipping that."
But I shake my head, looking away. None of this feels real. We're supposed to be celebrating Eli right now, not talking about hysterectomies and vasectomies and the lack of all future children.
"You don't mean that," I finally manage to say.
Tobias' answer is insistent. "Yes, I do." He tilts my face toward him as he leans closer, leaving me no choice but to meet his gaze again. "We always said that we'd only have kids when both of us wanted them, and I am done, Tris. I would have scheduled the vasectomy before going home."
I don't know how to respond. He loves being a father. It's why he suggested having a second child, and there's no guarantee that he won't feel that same desire in a few years. He shouldn't be denied that opportunity because of me.
"What if you want another one later?" I whisper. "What then?"
"Tris." He sighs, rubbing his thumb in circles over my cheekbone. "I just want you. You and Abigail and Eli. You're more than enough for me. Can't we be enough for you, too?"
His dark blue eyes hold me, challenging and entreating at the same time – making me think. In many ways, he's right. We have two healthy children – a girl and a boy, even. It's not like I was planning to have more. In fact, I had pretty much decided against it already. But somehow, that doesn't make this moment any easier.
"I just wanted it to be our choice," I admit quietly. "Not have it be made…like this."
He nods. "I know." His voice is soft now, too. "But we'll get through this. We'll be okay. And if we ever do want more kids, we can look at adopting. That worked well for Margaret."
The comment reaches through my uncertainty, changing my thoughts again. His sister was certainly better off with her adoptive parents than her birth ones, and despite all the improvements we've made in the city, there are undoubtedly still children in need out there. Tobias is right that we could adopt if we want. The selfless part of me says we should have considered that sooner.
Slowly, I nod, letting myself be soothed by his words, and by the continued circles his thumb is tracing on my cheek. They don't take away all the pain, but they ease some of the ache that's running through my insides.
As my mind stops racing, the fatigue draws me in again. Whatever medication they have me on seems to be dragging me down, making me sleepier by the minute and adding to the disconnected feeling that's causing everything to seem unreal.
I'm vaguely aware of Tobias kissing me lightly, his hand stroking my hair as he whispers that he loves me, but it's all I can do to murmur the words back before my eyes droop closed again. And I sleep.
I'm awakened gradually by a nurse checking my vital signs. There seems to be a sizable fog inside my head, but it clears slowly as he moves around me, measuring my pulse and then shining a light into my eyes.
Behind him, Tobias' low voice rumbles, asking when they'll be able to move me to a regular room. I try to add to that, to say that I want to see my son, but my throat is too dry to speak, and all that comes out is a small croak.
"Are you thirsty, Tris?" the nurse asks, giving me a reassuring smile. At my nod, he adds, "I'm going to sit you up a little more so you can drink, okay?"
I'm not prepared for the cramping and discomfort that go through my entire abdomen when he raises the head of the bed. Without the medication that's blurring my thoughts, I'm sure it would be a far sharper pain, but it's still enough to tell me that this is going to be a difficult recovery.
But Tobias grips my hand firmly, and I squeeze back, and his strength gets me through it. He gives me a small smile as he holds a cup up for me, extending the straw toward my lips. "I know you hate accepting help," he murmurs so only I can hear, "but right now you're just going to deal with it and drink, all right?"
My eyes meet his, and I can feel the corner of my mouth tugging upwards. He's right that I hate feeling this helpless, but he's also right that this isn't the time to complain about it. So, I accept the straw and sip the fluid slowly. It's sweet and thick, but it feels wonderful on my parched throat.
When I'm done, I let my body sag back against the mattress as my gaze finds the nurse. "So, when can I see my baby?"
The move to the regular hospital room feels surreal, partly because I'm still groggy and weak from the surgery and partly because all of the medical staff look at me like I'm a ghost. As if they're amazed to see me still alive. It reminds me of walking into Abnegation so long ago, after Jeanine broadcast my execution.
The hardest part is watching Tobias. He doesn't leave my side or let go of my hand, and it's clear that he went through hell and back today worrying about me. I hate that I made him feel that way, even though I don't think there's anything I could have done to prevent it.
It doesn't help that I still haven't seen Eli. The delay makes me antsier and antsier the longer it lasts, despite Tobias' reassurances that everything is fine. He's the last child I'll ever have, and I need to see him for myself.
So, it's a relief when a nurse wheels a portable bassinet into the room the moment I'm settled into it. "You can keep him here with you for as long as you like," she assures us, smiling gently. "Just press the Call button if you need us to take him back to the nursery so you can rest."
Right now, I can't imagine ever wanting to do that, and I strain to sit up straighter so I can see inside the bassinet as she moves it closer.
"It's going to be difficult for you to hold him at first," she explains as she stops just outside my reach. "And I don't want you trying yet. You should be able to carry him in a couple of weeks, but not until then – and nothing heavier than him until six weeks post-op. Your body has been through a lot."
For a second, I glare at her mutinously, not willing to accept that I can't hold my own baby yet. But the larger part of me knows that she's right. I can't even sit all the way up right now, let alone walk, and the pain medication is making me too drowsy to trust my arm strength.
It shouldn't surprise me by now that Tobias knows exactly what to do. Wordlessly, he takes Eli from the bassinet, cradling our son in one arm while he pulls a chair to the side of the bed and sits in it. Leaning forward, he holds Eli beside my chest, where I can see him and touch him without any risk of him kicking my abdomen.
It's exactly what I need, and I let my eyes take in every inch of my baby while my fingers gently stroke his cheeks that look just like Abigail's, and his dark, curly hair, and his hands and feet that are still wrinkled from being in the womb.
"He's so big," I whisper. I mean, I knew he would be, of course, since that's why he had to be delivered the way he was, but somehow I didn't expect him to be this big.
"Ten pounds, one ounce," Tobias says softly, and I shake my head in awe. Abigail was three months old when she weighed that much.
But despite his size, he's absolutely perfect, and I can't seem to stop staring at him. He moves a little, fussing, and opens his eyes just enough for me to see them. A smile touches every part of me as I see my own gray-blue orbs reflected back at me. Tobias got his wish.
"He has my eyes."
My husband nods before leaning down and kissing our son's temple lightly. "That didn't prove to be my greatest wish for today, but I'm glad it came true, too."
Eli turns his head in a seeking motion as his lips begin moving reflexively, and I know he's hungry.
"How do I nurse him?" I ask, suddenly realizing that this is going to be difficult with a baby this size while I have to be so protective of my abdomen.
But Tobias answers without hesitation. "It's simple. I'll hold him." For a second, I just stare at him, but he shrugs. "It's not like I want to let either of you out of my sight for a very long time, anyway."
The words connect to something deep inside me, and in that moment, I finally feel like everything will be okay. Today certainly didn't go the way we wanted, but we're still here, together, and that's all that really matters. As long as we have each other, we will always find a way to make the rest of life work.
My first thought when I see Abigail is how tall she is. I've been spending the last few hours comparing Eli to how big she was at birth, and to suddenly see her at age four again is a little startling.
"Mommy!" she calls eagerly, but Caleb keeps his grip on her hand, stopping her from running to me.
"Remember, you have to be very gentle," he tells her kindly. "Mommy is going to need time to heal before she can play with you like she normally does." He gives her a gentle smile that reminds me of growing up in Abnegation. "But she'll be fine soon."
Abigail nods seriously, walking hesitantly over and giving me a sweet, careful hug that brings tears to my eyes. How did I ever get lucky enough to have a family like this?
"Hi, Daddy," Abigail whispers, clearly thinking that she has to be quiet and gentle with all of us. It makes Tobias smile, and he pulls her into an abrupt bear hug.
"Hi, Abigail," he answers in his deepest voice, the one that always makes her giggle, and I hear her laugh as he kisses her cheek before releasing her.
"Would you like to meet your brother?" he asks.
She nods eagerly. "Uh-huh."
Tobias leads her to the other side of the bed, to where Eli is lying in his hospital bassinet. He takes up practically the entire thing.
"He's sleeping right now," Tobias explains, "but you'll be able to hold him a little later."
Abigail contemplates him for a few seconds. "He doesn't look that big." She turns to Caleb questioningly, and I realize that he must have been going on about my son's size.
He gives her a wry smile, but I answer before he can. "All babies are smaller than you are now, honey, but he's much larger than you were at that age."
"Oh." She returns her gaze to her brother. "Brianna says that her little brother doesn't do anything fun. He just lies there and cries and poops." She looks up at Tobias. "Is Eli going to be like that?"
My husband chuckles. "Some of the time, yes. Babies do a lot of that. But he'll do some fun things soon enough." Leaning down to her height, he adds more quietly, "Besides, he's already done something very important."
Abigail looks up, intrigued. "What did he do?"
Tobias' voice is solemn. "He got the doctors to operate on Mommy when none of us knew she needed them to. And that kept her safe." He rubs her back gently. "So, you see, he's kind of a hero."
It's not an entirely true statement, but it's a great take on the day's events, and I can't help smiling when I hear it. Beside me, I can see Caleb grinning, too.
But Abigail's reaction is far better. She turns her wide eyes on me for a second before staring at her brother. "Wow," she whispers, awed. Leaning over the bassinet, she adds very softly, "Thank you, Eli. I think you're going to be the best little brother ever."
It's a beautiful way to end a largely terrible day.
A/N: Only one chapter left... I expect to post it on Tuesday. In the meantime, please let me know what you thought of this chapter. I really appreciate all of your support through the process of writing this story! Also, for those who have been asking what's next after this story and "Becoming Determinant," I'm going to post a poll on my fanfiction net Profile page listing the stories that I'm considering writing. Please check them out and vote on your favorite(s) if you're inclined. :-)