face slowly as she turns to face me. “Our little princess.”
I choke back a happy sob as I reach out to Isabel, letting her clutch my little finger tightly in her hand. “She’s got a good grip on her too,” I say, wiping away the tear that has escaped my eye.
I dip my head, gently pressing a kiss to the top of Isabel’s head and then lifting up and placing a kiss on Nat’s lips as we both smile.
For a couple of seconds, we bask in the joy of having our second child; knowing that Clay is going to love his baby sister. She’ll be treated like a princess and grow up with the best mom she could ever have.
Just seeing Nat with Clay makes me certain of that. She’s always playing a game with him or singing to him. Not once did she moan about a nighttime feed; it’s almost as if she was put on this earth to be one of the best moms in the world. And that’s exactly what she is.
“Natalia, could you hand baby Isabel to Dad?” the midwife asks suddenly, her body taut.
“Why? What’s wrong?” I ask, lifting Isabel out of Nat’s arms as her eyes widen and her face pales.
“Tris, I don’t feel too good—”
“Hang in there, Natalia,” the midwife interrupts, obvious panic in her voice as she reaches over and slams the palm of her hand on a red button that sits on the wall, before darting back in between Nat’s legs.
My eyes flit from the midwife to Nat, watching as she brings her shaking hands to her face, pressing them against the sudden paleness of her skin.
“I feel hot,” she moans.
It’s only a couple more seconds before more nurses and doctors come running inside—all of them on high alert—as another nurse asks me to stand to the side, practically pushing me out of the way and out of reach of Nat.
My stomach clenches and I find it hard to swallow as I back up, still holding the little bundle that is Isabel close to my chest.
It’s like a movie unfolding in front of me as everyone flits around the room, trying to stabilize Nat. It can’t be real, it can’t be. This isn’t how it was supposed to be. We were meant to be sitting here, smiling and watching our princess. This wasn’t supposed to happen.
One nurse takes her blood pressure while someone else administers some drugs, all of them gathering around her. There’s at least eight people surrounding her now, blocking my view. I can’t even see her face, and that has the breath lodging in my chest.
My heart is in my mouth as the machines beep frantically and another one starts to buzz loudly. That’s when I spot it—the red blood dripping off the end of the bed.
“What’s happening?” I ask, trying to shout above all of the activity in the room, but not getting an answer.
Isabel starts wriggling in my arms, opening her mouth and sending a battle cry out into the tense atmosphere.
I twist my head this way and that way, trying to see what they’re doing. I finally spot the midwife as she rubs on Nat’s stomach, saying something about trying to cause a contraction.
Why does she need to cause a contraction?
“It’s not working,” I hear her say as she moves to the side, her sneakers stepping in the blood that is now pooling around all of them.
This can’t be happening.
“Nat!” I shout.
“Please stay back,” a nurse reprimands me, her eyes narrowing in warning.
I swallow and take a step back as they push the sides of the bed up, clicking something on the wheels.
“We need to get her into the OR, my fist won’t hold it much longer!” The midwife is panicking; I hear it and see it in her eyes when they connect with mine briefly.
There’s shouting and a sudden flurry of movement—so much noise—and all I can do is stand there, helpless and in shock as they start to wheel her out of the room, blood following in their wake at an alarming rate.
“Tris?” Nat’s small voice has me stepping forward as they pull open the doors. “Look after my babies.” A tear runs down her cheek as her blue eyes fill with sadness. They tell me that she knows that this is it; she knows that she won’t come back.
“No!” I take two giant steps forward, pulling Isabel closer to my chest. “Don’t you dare leave me, Nat! Don’t you dare!” I’m sobbing now, tears running down my cheeks freely along with that stupid lump in my throat that won’t let me catch my breath.
They wheel her out of the room as someone touches my shoulder, trying to get my attention, but I ignore them as they start pushing the bed down the hallway. The wheels of the bed leaving tracks of red blood behind. Her blood.