30. Rose
30
ROSE
M y back hurt and I was so sick to my stomach and weak, but more than that, I was scared. When I started peeing dark brown, I knew it was bad and Mom drove me in. I lay on the emergency room bed crying, feeling bad about snapping at Cole, but it was the fear talking. Not only was I terrified about what was happening to my body, but now he knew my secret—the one I should've told him about months ago when I first found out.
"Hey, shh," Mom said, her hand smoothing up and down my arm. I was inconsolable over what happened with Cole anyway, but this just took the cake. I never imagined that they'd want to rush me in for an emergency C-section, and I hadn't stopped to think that if they did, it might be Cole whom they'd call.
"He hates me," I mumbled, and I used the back of my hand to wipe my eyes. I'd seen the pain in his expression when he took one look at me and saw me hooked up to all these baby monitors and wires.
Three weeks ago, the last time I saw him, I was barely able to conceal my pregnancy. At twenty-four weeks now, there was just no way. Had I been pregnant with one baby, it would've been challenging but maybe possible. But these twins had my stomach ballooning out now. Even if I wanted to try to hide it, there was no point.
"He doesn't hate you, Rose. He got a shock." I looked up and saw Kiki standing over me. She smiled and rested her hand on Mom's shoulder. Mom sat on the edge of my bed trying to comfort me, but she leaned back as Kiki stood next to me. "I saw him. He just went out for air. I think a few of us suspected you were pregnant, but?—"
"My God, does everyone know now?" I was mortified. For so long, Cole and I had fought to keep our relationship a secret, and this wasn't at all the way I thought things would be revealed. Though, I never planned on a pregnancy at all. I pressed my hand to my belly and felt the twins move. They were most active nowadays, especially in the evenings.
"Shh, don't stress yourself out," Mom said, but it was too late. Tears welled up in my eyes again and I sniffed. "There's nothing you can do about that now, Rose. We'll deal with it later."
Kiki squeezed my hand. "Mom's right. Focus on you and the babies, okay?"
"I should've told him, Mom," I said, my voice breaking. "Why didn't I just tell him?" I swiped at my eyes again and shook my head.
“Look, Rose, not everybody knows.” Kiki lowered her voice. It was impossible to make sure no one heard us with just curtains to separate exam stations, but I appreciated that she was being more discreet. “The ER staff doesn’t know you used to work here.” Her voice was almost a whisper. “And I’m the only one who saw that interaction. I think you’re fine. I think you should focus on the babies.”
"But," I mumbled and turned away from both of them, "he looked at me like he didn't even know me anymore."
Mom rubbed my arm. "He's in shock too, Rose. Give him time to process it." Her touch was comforting, but I was still upset. The good thing was that I hadn’t ruined his career by showing up here and then blurting out how upset I was with him. Maybe I’d let that fester a bit too long and I should’ve definitely reached out to have that conversation, but hindsight was always twenty-twenty.
“Ms. Williams?” I heard, and I looked up to see a doctor walk in. I didn’t recognize her at all, but she had a kind smile and was dressed in blues with a stethoscope around her neck. "I'm Dr. Adams, but you can call me Elise. I'm one of the OB/GYNs on call tonight." She looked at the monitor and then at me, and her eyes softened. "I came to discuss what’s going on. We’ve done some tests, and I’m happy to let you know you’re not having a placental abruption like we feared.”
Mom sighed in relief, but I just blinked at her. "But… the bleeding?" I croaked out. Dr. Adams took a seat on the stool next to my bed and placed a reassuring hand on my leg. Kiki wiggled her fingers at me and backed out, and I took Mom’s hand and squeezed it for reassurance.
"It's called bloody show. It can happen in late pregnancy, especially with multiples," she explained, a gentle smile on her face. "It's not as much blood as it seems, but it can be scary. Your cervix is just starting to efface and dilate early, which isn't uncommon either." She patted my leg. "I know this is scary, but your babies are doing fine. Your contractions have slowed, which is good."
The news was both a relief and terrifying at the same time, but it didn’t explain what was going on when I peed. I bit my lip as she continued. "Now, the good news is, there's no indication of infection, and your vitals are all stable. You're also slightly anemic, but that's to be expected with twins." She smiled, and I let out a shaky breath. "However, what’s going on with your kidneys is concerning. At twenty-four weeks, we shouldn’t be seeing preeclampsia, and we’re worried about renal failure.”
My stomach plummeted. “What does that mean for my babies?” I asked, panic lacing my voice. Mom squeezed my hand again, and I looked at her, desperately seeking reassurance, but her face had gone pale.
Dr. Adams squeezed my leg through the bedsheet. “We have to look at a cesarean, Rose. Your kidneys are struggling to keep up, and your blood pressure is way too high.”
“But they’re too early,” I croaked.
“I know you don’t want to hear this, but it's for your health and theirs. If we don’t, the risk of complications increases for all of you.” Dr. Adams frowned at me, and more tears sprang from my eyes.
“But, I—" I glanced at Mom and saw the fear in her eyes. I squeezed my eyes shut and took a deep breath. This was happening, wasn’t it? They weren’t going to magically reverse their decision.
“I know this is a lot to process, but we need to move quickly," she said gently. "We're prepping the OR now. Is there anyone else you'd like us to call? Your partner?” she asked, glancing at my left hand, but there wasn't a ring.
I shook my head and my voice cracked. “Just… just my mom. She’s here.”
Dr. Adams nodded and patted my leg again before leaving us alone. As soon as she left, Mom hugged me tightly. I sobbed into her shoulder, clinging to her.
“Shh, it’s going to be fine. We’re going to get through this together, okay?” she said, her voice shaking. But I couldn’t find the words to respond.
All I could think about were my babies and how close I’d come to losing them. As soon as the door clicked shut behind Dr. Adams, everything hit me all at once. The fear, the heartbreak, the guilt—it all surged up, overwhelming me. My body felt like it couldn’t hold it anymore, and I broke. The sobs started deep and wracked through me as I buried my face in Mom’s shoulder.
“I can’t do this,” I choked out, the words muffled and raw. “I can’t be a mom… not like this.”
Mom held me tighter, her hands stroking my back like she was trying to soothe me the way she had when I was a little girl. “Rose, listen to me,” she said, her voice low but firm. “You can do this. You are doing this. Every moment, every choice—you’ve been fighting for those babies since the beginning. And they’re going to know how much you love them because of that.”
“But Cole…” My voice cracked, and I shook my head against her shoulder. “He hates me now. I saw it in his face.”
Mom eased back just enough to look at me, her hands still framing my face. “Cole doesn’t hate you, sweetheart. He’s in shock. He just needs time. And as for everyone else?” She glanced toward the curtain that shielded our small corner of the ER. “Let them talk. None of it matters right now. The only things that matter are you and those babies.”
I wanted to believe her, but the image of Cole’s face—stunned, hurt, confused—was burned into my mind. “I should’ve told him,” I whispered. “I should’ve told him months ago.”
“You can’t change that now,” Mom said gently. “What you can do is focus on yourself and these babies. That’s all that matters.”
Before I could say more, the curtain shifted, and Kiki stepped back inside. Her face was calm, but I saw the worry in her eyes as she approached. “Hey,” she said softly. She crouched down so we were eye to eye. “You okay? Well, I mean, as okay as you can be?”
I sniffled and swiped at my tear-streaked face. “Not really.”
Kiki nodded like she’d expected that. “I get it. But listen, you’re stronger than you think, Rose. You’ve got this.” She paused, her gaze flickering to Mom. “I checked in with the nurse. They’re moving fast to get the OR prepped, but they’ll come grab you soon. I figured you’d want to know.”
I swallowed hard, the reality of it settling heavier on my chest. “I’m scared,” I admitted.
“I know you are,” Kiki said, her voice steady and calm. “But you’re not alone, okay? Your mom’s here, and I’m here. We’re not going anywhere.”
The lump in my throat grew, and I pressed my hand to my belly, feeling the subtle shift of the twins moving. For a brief second, everything went still. I felt the tiny lives inside me, so fragile but so real, and I knew I’d do whatever it took to keep them safe.
“I just… I want them to be okay,” I whispered, my voice breaking again.
“They will be,” Kiki said firmly. “And so will you.”
The curtain swayed open again, and a nurse peeked in, clipboard in hand. “We’re ready for you, Ms. Williams,” she said gently. “We’ll take good care of you.”
My heart clenched, and my grip on Mom’s hand tightened. She squeezed back, her face calm but her eyes glassy with unshed tears.
“You’re going to be okay, sweetheart,” Mom said. “You’re stronger than you know.”
I nodded, even though my legs felt like they were made of lead. When they started wheeling me toward the OR, I glanced back at Mom and Kiki, their reassuring faces the last thing I saw before the curtain closed behind me. My fear hadn’t vanished, but Mom's love steadied me, and I clung to that as I was rolled into the sterile, bright light of the operating room.