***
Mai and Archie insisted that they stay with Sarah while I went home, made sure the guest room was all set up for them, and took another quick shower before returning to the hospital for the night. I didn’t like it, but Archie “insisted”, so I went. When I got back, I found an extra bed had already been wheeled into Sarah’s room for me to sleep in. I didn’t know what they had to do to get the hospital agree to it, but I didn’t ask. I didn’t care. I would have slept on the floor.
While I’d been gone, the drips that Sarah had been hooked to earlier were taken out of the back of hand, and she no longer had the blood pressure monitor wrapped around her arm. So, while I unloaded the takeaway I brought back with me, she took a quick shower. I stood outside the door almost the whole time, listening and making sure she was okay, only moving away when I heard the water turn off. She emerged a few minutes later in a pair of long Betty Boop pyjama pants and one of my old T-shirts, and I made sure that all the pillows were piled around her again as she settled herself under the sheets.
“You gonna attempt some of this, bub?”
My breath caught as I turned to look at her again. The blood, vitamins, and iron infusions she had earlier improved her complexion and, combined with the hot water from her shower and the warmth of the hospital room, she had a gorgeous rosy glow to her skin.
“C’mere.” She gestured with her head, and I abandoned the food and went to her. When I was close, she took my hand and pulled me so I was sitting on the edge of the bed, then, despite my weak protest, she straddled my lap and wrapped her arms around my neck. The need to make sure our baby was okay was almost overwhelming, and I moved my hands over her nonexistent bump, letting my eyes drift closed as I rubbed my thumbs back and forth.
“Hey, bud,” I told the baby. “I fu . . . messed up big time today.” My eyes darted up to Sarah’s, and I mouthed “sorry” for my almost swear word in front of the baby. I’d promised to try to curb my swearing once he was born, but I wasn’t too confident about how that was gonna go. I carried on my conversation with my kid. “I won’t say I’m sorry again, because I think your mum is sick of hearing me say it, but I will promise that nothing like this will happen again. Now, you just settle down for a good night’s sleep and try your hardest not to make your mum feel sick in the morning. Love ya, bud.”
“I hope you’re not gonna keep calling her bud once she’s born.”
I pulled the T-shirt back over her belly before answering.
“She’s a he, so it won’t be a problem.”
“We can find out tomorrow if we wanna.”
I leant back and took in the glow of her skin and the sparkle that lit her eyes, it again hit me just how far she had deteriorated, and I sank a bit lower into my own guilt.
“You wanna?”
She shrugged her shoulders and gave a shy smile.
“I’m not sure. What’s happened today and the possibility of finding out the sex tomorrow have just made it all so real. We’re gonna be parents.” She said it with such wonder in her voice that my nose tingled and I smiled so hard it turned into a little chuckle.
“We’re gonna be great fucking parents.”
“The best.” She smiled back.
I was allowed home the following afternoon. We decided not to find out what we were having, wanting to keep it a surprise. Nan and Grandad stayed with us for the next two weeks, which actually worked out well. Liam was able to go into the office for the time that Luke was away, and then he worked mostly from home once Luke got back.
They finally held interviews at the office and took on two interns and a junior receptionist to work alongside Liz. All of which, meant they could finally spread the load somewhat. Liam’s refusal to travel for the rest of my pregnancy meant that Luke was clocking up the air miles, something he wholeheartedly agreed to do once he found out what had happened with me while Liam was in Scotland.
Apart from what had been administered while I was in the hospital, I was still refusing to take any kind of anti-nausea medication, but the sickness had mostly worn off, although I had ended up back in the hospital twice more because my doctors were worried about dehydration.
I was thirty-two weeks into my pregnancy, and my nan had finally given us permission to go out and buy a pushchair. We had strict instructions to not bring it into the house until after the baby was born, though. All of this because of some long-held superstition of hers. Seeing as it was my grandparents that were paying and those things were not cheap, believe me, we didn’t bother to argue. I was actually blown away that most of what we’d looked at cost more than my first, second, and third car.