Western Waves (Compass 3)

His arms were wrapped around me within seconds, and he held me tight as I cried into his arms.

It took three more weeks.

Three more weeks of anxiety. Three more weeks of panic attacks. Three more weeks of a heavy feeling of pain hovering around me before it happened.

Lying in bed beside Damian, I felt a sharp pain in my side. As my breaths intensified, I sat up beside my sleeping husband, and my hand fell to my stomach. I turned on the lamp beside me and felt an overwhelming amount of fear as I stared down at the bedsheets to see red.

Baby…

“Damian,” I cried out, shaking his body with my trembling hands. “Damian, wake up.”

He sat up and cleared his throat, rubbing the tiredness from his eyes. “You okay?” he asked.

“Baby,” I whispered.

His eyes opened more, and he focused on coming out of his dream state. When he saw the blood, he grew fully awake and alert.

“Baby,” I repeated, tears falling down my cheeks.

He rushed me to the hospital.

But I already knew what was to come.

I stared at the doctor with tears in my eyes in a state of complete disbelief.

“Everything’s okay?” I asked the doctor for the hundredth time. Damian’s hand was wrapped around mine. Even though my nerves were shot, his comfort was wrapping me up tight in his hold.

“Yes. Again, it’s called preeclampsia. And with your past struggles of being pregnant, I believe it is important to monitor this closely. With your blood pressure being so high and the swelling of your ankles, I am going to suggest bedrest for the remainder of your pregnancy. There is also a list of dietary changes we can add to your plan to help with this, and the medications I mentioned previously.”

“Is this because of my weight?” I asked, feeling shaky. I heard Jeff in the back of my mind, telling me how the loss of my previous pregnancies was my fault. “Did I do this?”

The doctor smiled as he shook his head. “Actually, there can be many causes for preeclampsia. All that matters is we caught it early enough, and we are able to monitor it from here on out.”

“And by bedrest, do you mean staying down completely or…?” Damian asked.

“Good question. Yes, we are going to request full bedrest based on Stella’s levels and blood pressure,” the doctor said.

My chest tightened. “I’m only five months pregnant. You’re saying I need to be on bedrest, in my bed, for the next four months?”

He frowned, knowing it wasn’t the most ideal idea. “I know this can be a lot to handle—”

“Are you kidding? I have a job. I have commission projects. I don’t know how I’m supposed to do that,” I explained. “And will this even help the baby? Is there still a chance I’ll lose it?”

I felt a squeeze of my hand and looked at Damian. His blue ocean eyes locked with my panicked stare. “We’ll figure it out.”

“But…”

“I’ll take care of you, Stella,” he whispered.

I parted my lips to respond as tears streamed down my cheeks. No words came. I closed my eyes, feeling overwhelmed by the idea of losing said baby.

“I’ll take care of you,” he repeated, sending a wave of comfort through my system. He then spoke to the doctor, asking for a list of things we should watch out for during the next few months.

When the doctor mentioned the possibility of blood clots in the legs from laying down so much, Damian smiled, trying to ease my worries. “I guess it’s my turn to be the one giving massages.”

He’ll take care of us, I thought to myself, taking in as many breaths as I could.

Damian drove us home, and the whole time I was silent, yet my thoughts were screaming. When I did speak, my words weren’t the positive ones that Damian was probably used to from me.

“I can’t believe I did this to the baby,” I softly spoke.

“You didn’t do anything wrong, Stella.”

“I did. I know I did. Just like with the ones before. It’s my weight. It’s always been my weight. If I didn’t… If all those years ago, I would’ve listened to the stepmothers who told me to get in shape. If I would’ve just—”

“You’re more than enough,” he said, reaching out with one hand and rubbing my leg. “Don’t do that, Stella. It’s not your fault. Don’t blame yourself.”

It was almost impossible not to do just that.

After we made it home, Damian parked the car and turned to me. “Are you okay?” he asked.

I stared forward. Frozen. Unable to answer.

Unable to do anything.

He climbed out of the car and walked over to my door. He opened it and reached in, lifting me into his arms. He carried me into the house, into his bedroom, and laid me down in our bed. I rolled onto my side, and he lay across from me. Our eyes locked, and he moved a piece of fallen hair from in front of my face.