Page 36 of Her Shifter Babe

I lay perfectly still, hoping and praying for the pain to go away. Despite my best efforts to remain calm and soothe my body, the cramps only increased in their severity. I cried out, rolling over and reaching out for my phone. I punched the screen to find Tommy’s number and pushed call. My breath shuddered out of me as I focused on keeping myself calm.

“Good morning beautiful,” Tommy’s smooth voice flowed through the phone. “How’d you sleep?”

But there was no time for pleasantries. Not now. “I’m cramping,” I blurted, unable to hide my fear. “I’m scared.” Another groan of pain tore from my lips and my brows furrowed deeply as I grimaced through the uncomfortable sensation. “I don’t know what’s happening.”

“Stay there. We’re coming,” Tommy answered and hung up.

I threw the phone across my bed to sob in fear. What would this mean for us if the baby came now? Would she survive at just twenty-six weeks? Could she?

My door flew open, and Nancy ran in, dropping to her knees beside my bed. “Are you okay? What’s happened? Tommy just called me. The boys are on their way here with the ambulance.”

“I’m cramping,” I whispered, hot tears spilling over my cheeks as my baby rolled and kicked, causing another painful wave of spasms. “I think I’m in labor,” I sobbed.

Nancy held my hand until the ambulance arrived, for which I was eternally grateful. I felt so alone and frightened.

Thankfully, Tommy was what seemed like mere moments behind them. He assessed me—found that I wasn’t bleeding—but advised I go straight to the hospital, regardless. He swung me up in his arms like a real-life hero and carried me down the stairs. How he did that with my current weight, I’ll never know. But in the sea of uncertainty and pain, Tommy was there, kissing my head and promising me that everything was going to be okay.

I traveled in the ambulance with the two paramedics, while Tommy followed in his own vehicle behind us.

“Dr. Bailey is a great doctor,” one of the paramedics said.

I gasped and groaned as another wave of contractions hit me without mercy. “I have no doubt, but he’s not my doctor. He’s the father.” I’m sure the female paramedic reacted to my news, but I was too invested in what was going on inside my belly to notice. My entire world had narrowed down to my body and the little life that was kicking up a storm far too early for comfort.

They wheeled me inside on a gurney and David was there waiting for me, pacing the entrance with a look of stoic concern on his face. He came straight over and grabbed my hand as they pushed me into a sterile white room.

“David, I’m scared,” I whispered to him, my voice shaky and my heart in my throat. “I can’t lose her.” Tears silently spilled down my cheeks, dampening my hairline, betraying just how petrified I was.

He gripped my hand tight and stared down at me, his dark eyes intense but steady in the sea of drama. “I’ve got you,” he promised. “And you won’t. Don’t even think that. We won’t let it happen.”

The ER doctors gave me some drugs to slow down or hopefully stop the contractions altogether. Then they followed up with an ultrasound and some bloodwork, before committing me to bed rest until further notice.

David stayed with me for hours, just holding my hand. And although he said very little, his presence comforted me in ways no words could have.

“Hey,” Tommy said, walking into my room unexpectedly, brandishing a clipboard. “How are you feeling, Stacey?”

I wriggled carefully to sit up higher in bed before I cradled my belly with both hands. I ignored his question. It was the least of my concerns. I only cared about our baby, our little girl. “What’s happening?” I asked. “Is the baby okay?”

“She’s doing fine,” Tommy assured me with a smile. “The pre-term labor has stopped for now, but you’ll be on bed rest from now until the birth, I’m afraid.”

Oh, God...

I blanched at the thought, and my mind whirled with panic. “But I don’t even have any insurance,” I protested. “I can’t stay here! I’ll be in debt until I die!”

“You won’t stay here, you’ll come home with us. And don’t even worry about the money. We told you, it’s taken care of,” David said firmly.

I bit my lip, my heart still racing.

Taken care of? How?

“David’s right,” Tommy added. “We can take you home as early as tomorrow, but I think it’s best you stay in here overnight. I’ll arrange for an OBGYN friend to come here later this week to assess you. But either way, our place is only a two-minute drive, so if anything happens at all, we can come straight back in no time flat.”

“Will the baby survive if she comes out now?” I asked, my throat tightening under the stress of asking such a question. There were many fears a pregnant woman carried with her for the nine months her baby relied on her, and having a premature birth was definitely chief among them.

Tommy sat on the bed and touched my leg, offering me his sense of physical calm. “She’s staying in there for now, so try to relax. There’s nothing in your bloodwork or ultrasound that leads me to believe this is anything more than a sign that you need to rest. You’ve been all over the place looking for the father of your baby, with little thought for your own wellbeing. That mentality has to stop. Your health is just as important as the baby’s. We’ll going to take care of you, okay? You have our word.”

I nodded, but I knew what he was really saying. If the baby came now, she might not make it, or at the very least, she’d be fighting for each and every breath she took, and I didn’t want that for her. “I’ll do anything you say to make sure she stays healthy and safe,” I declared without hesitation.

“I’m glad,” Tommy said as he stood up and came over to kiss me on the forehead. It was a strange but sweet gesture. “You get some rest, and I’m going to make some phone calls.” Then he took his leave, nodding to his brother as he did.

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