45 | ☕The Great Vomit Veto Atlas vs. Stubborn Baby Mama ☕ #2
Atlas sighed, then reached out, gently cupping her chin. He tilted her face up so their eyes met, his gaze unwavering. With precise, steady hands, he signed, "You're not fine. This isn't normal. You've been struggling for too long. I won't let you keep suffering."
Anya opened her mouth as if to argue, but the exhaustion in her face betrayed her. Her shoulders sagged, the fight slowly leaving her. She looked away, her fingers curling into the fabric of her shirt. "I just... don't want to make a big deal out of it," she murmured.
Atlas shook his head, his hands moving again, each sign slow, deliberate, filled with quiet conviction. "It is already a big deal. You and the babies matter. We need to make sure you're okay. I won't take no for an answer."
Anya hesitated, her breath shaky, but the sincerity in his eyes softened her resolve. She didn't want to be a burden, didn't want to cause more stress, but Atlas' insistence, his quiet authority, told her that this wasn't something he was going to back down from.
With a sigh that carried both resignation and relief, Anya finally nodded. "Okay," she whispered, the words heavy. "You're right. Let's go."
Atlas exhaled, a soft smile tugging at his lips as he reached out, brushing a few damp strands of hair away from Anya's face. His touch was gentle, careful, as if trying to soothe her even in the smallest of ways.
"Thank you," he signed, his movements slow, deliberate. His expression held nothing but quiet reassurance.
He leaned down, pressing a tender kiss to her forehead before straightening. Then, without hesitation, he wrapped his arms around her, his strength effortless as he lifted her into his embrace.
Anya let out a small, surprised breath, but she didn't resist. She simply let herself sink into him, her head resting against his chest, her body too exhausted to argue.
Atlas held her securely, his grip firm yet careful. With steady hands, he signed against her back, the movements comforting, reassuring.
"You don't have to go through this alone."
He tightened his hold just slightly, as if to emphasize the unspoken promise in his words.
"We're getting you help. No more suffering in silence."
And with that, he carried her out of the bathroom, his heart heavy with worry but filled with unwavering determination.
Atlas had never been the type to panic. He had built his entire life around control, around handling every problem with calm efficiency.
But as he sat beside Anya in the back of the car, watching her lean against the door with her eyes closed, her breathing slow but uneven, he felt something dangerously close to panic clawing at his chest.
Anya barely opened her eyes. "I know," she murmured, her voice small and distant.
That didn't ease the pressure in his chest.
The moment they pulled up to the hospital, Atlas was out of the car in an instant. He rushed around to her side, opening the door and carefully helping her out. She swayed slightly, her body weak from weeks of sickness, and Atlas immediately tightened his hold around her waist, steadying her.
Inside, the bright fluorescent lights were too harsh, the antiseptic smell too sharp, but none of it mattered. He guided Anya toward the front desk, his expression set in determination. The nurse at the counter barely had time to look up before Atlas was signing, his movements sharp and precise.
"Severe nausea. Weeks now. Barely keeping food down. Pregnant—twins."
The nurse's eyes widened slightly, understanding the urgency in his hands even before he slammed down Anya's medical file on the counter. "Alright, let's get her checked in immediately."
Atlas didn't let go of Anya's hand as they led her to a room. He helped her onto the hospital bed, his other hand resting on her back as if he could transfer some of his strength to her. A doctor arrived shortly after, flipping through her chart while a nurse prepped an IV.
"She's severely dehydrated," the doctor explained. "We're going to start her on fluids first."
Anya let out a tired sigh. "So, I wasn't being dramatic, huh?" she muttered weakly.
Atlas exhaled sharply, the closest thing to a relieved chuckle he could manage. He shook his head and signed, "Never thought you were. I just need you to be okay."
She gave him a small, tired smile, squeezing his hand.
As the IV started dripping, bringing much-needed hydration back into her system, Atlas watched her features slowly relax. Some of the tension melted from her shoulders, and for the first time in weeks, she didn't look like she was about to collapse.
After a thorough examination, the doctor gave Atlas a reassuring nod before turning to Anya. "It looks like you're dealing with severe pregnancy nausea, also known as hyperemesis gravidarum. It's more intense than typical morning sickness, but don't worry—we have options to help manage it."
Anya exhaled, relief washing over her. "So, there's something that can help?"
"Absolutely," the doctor confirmed. "I'm prescribing a combination of Doxylamine and Pyridoxine—you might recognize them under the names Diclegis or Bonjesta. It's a first-line treatment for nausea and vomiting in pregnancy. It should help ease the symptoms and allow you to keep food down."
Atlas nodded, taking mental notes as he sat beside Anya, his fingers already moving in small, unconscious motions—his way of processing information.
"If needed," the doctor continued, "you can also take Vitamin B6 supplements on their own. Pyridoxine is known to reduce nausea and is a great additional support."
Anya frowned slightly. "And what about sleep? I feel exhausted all the time, but it's hard to rest properly."
"I'm glad you asked. Doxylamine, which is an antihistamine, is also sold under Unisom as a sleep aid. It's safe to take in small doses, and it can help with both nausea and sleep."
Atlas glanced at Anya, his brows slightly furrowed, before signing, "Will she need to take all of them at once?"
The doctor shook his head. "Not necessarily. We'll start with Doxylamine/Pyridoxine, and if she still struggles, we can add Vitamin B6 or Unisom separately. The goal is to manage the symptoms without overwhelming her with too many medications."
Anya let out a slow breath. "Okay... that actually sounds manageable."
Atlas reached for her hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. His other hand moved in a simple but firm gesture.
"We'll do whatever it takes to make you feel better."
Anya's lips curved into a small, tired smile. "Thank you."