My heart stops as I stare at the screen.
“Fetal heart rate dropping,” a nurse says.
“Let’s keep going,” Ricci orders.
Zalea’s nails dig into my skin and seconds stretch into minutes, but it feels like hours. Her whole body shifts side to side as they tug and pull, and it’s sickeningly surreal to watch—I can only imagine how it must feel for her. But the sound of a loud, angry cry moments later pierces through the room and Zalea gasps.
“That’s one,” someone shouts.
I don’t even realize I’m crying until everything becomes blurry, and then there’s another few seconds of unbearable silence where I don’t dare breathe.
A second cry, just as loud, fills the room and Zalea breaks down completely, sobbing in relief.
“They’re okay,” I whisper, my voice wrecked. “They’re okay. I hear them.”
“They’re here,” she breathes.
A nurse rounds the curtain briefly so we can see our tiny, red, furious little humans being rushed to the warming station.
“A boy and a girl,” she confirms.”One of each.”
I press a trembling kiss to Zalea’s forehead, feeling so proud of my girl.
“You did it,” I tell her, but when I look up I see another nurse's eyes go wide as she stares at something behind the curtain.
“She’s hemorrhaging,” Doctor Ricci repeats, her voice urgent. “We need to control the bleeding. Now.”
Everything inside me goes cold as Zalea’s eyes search mine immediately.
“Gabriel?” she whispers.
I lean down so she can only see me. I will not let her look past my shoulder at the silent panic happening behind that blue curtain.
“You did it” I say, even though my pulse is pounding so hard I can hear it in my ears. “You hear those cries? Our babies are here. They’re strong. You did that.”
Another suction sound fills the room and a nurse moves quickly to Zalea’s other side, pushing medication into her IV.
“Blood pressure is dropping.”
“Start another line.”
“Uterotonics, now.”
Zalea’s fingers twitch in mine as she looks up to the ceiling. “I’m so tired,” she murmurs.
My heart slams violently against my ribs. “No. Hey. Stay with me.”
Her eyelids flutter and I feel like I can’t breathe.
“Zalea.” My voice breaks. “Look at me.”
Her eyes drag open again, glossy and unfocused.
“I need you here,” I whisper, pressing my forehead to hers. “You don’t get to check out on me. Not tonight.”
She holds my gaze as I bring her hand to my mouth and kiss her knuckles, more as a comfort to myself.
“Pressure’s not responding.”
