Page 71 of Harry

“You can always call me if you feel there’s something wrong.” Dr. Reed had a feeling they had forgotten her presence.

“Thanks.” Harry told the woman absently.

*****

It took two days of complete bed rest to get her frustrated and weepy. She was not allowed to do anything, except make her way to the bathroom every five minutes, it seemed like to pee. Her blood pressure was still a problem, and the dizziness and constipation were ongoing issues.

“Perhaps we should put off the wedding,” Harry suggested worriedly as he sat on the bed. He had had to rush out earlier to attend a few meetings, but made Rosie promised that she would call if there was anything wrong.

“No.” She shook her head. “It’s the only thing that’s keeping me sane.”

He gave her a shrewd look. “I’m not going to change my mind.”

“I wouldn’t let you.” She responded lightly, avoiding his eyes. “I’m doing everything I’m supposed to do. And still, it’s not enough. We’re getting married on Saturday.”

Tugging at her hand, he brought it to his lips. “At least you’re eating.”

“Like a pig and putting on so much weight.” She was being a complaining bitch, but she could not help it. Everyone was catering to her. She was the most indulged pregnant woman around. She had all her needs anticipated. Before she even uttered a word, things were being done.

The only contribution she was making to her own wedding was picking out the dress, that’s it. And that had taken her less than ten minutes because she had help. His mother was also very attentive and would come around every evening to check on her.

She had taken over the planning of the small ceremony with pleasure.

Janelle had watched enough daytime soaps to last her a lifetime and speaking of which, she had tuned into the romance network to try and get some relief from the drama. That had turned out to be a mistake as she ended up getting more frustrated at the sappy lines and the stupidity of the female characters.

Now she was watching crime dramas and reality shows as well as designing the nursery, by putting things on paper.

“Then we go ahead with it.”

“Are you trying to appease me?”

His brows lifted. “I am trying to make things as comfortable as I can for you. Want me to stop?”

“No!” She shook her head with a sigh. “I’m scared, Bobby.”

Kicking off his shoes, he slid in next to her and pulled her against him.

“There’s nothing to be scared of.” He kissed the top of her head, a concerned frown on his brow when he felt her trembling.

“Baby, what is it?”

“I keep having these dreams.”

“Tell me.”

“It’s silly and I shouldn’t be burdening you…”

“Who else is there?”

She buried her face in his throat for a second and took comfort in the warmth of his skin and the scent of his cologne.

“I keep dreaming that we have a boy and a girl and the boy who was delivered second had the cord wrapped around his neck and could not breathe.”

Her fingers dug into his sweater. “And I started bleeding. I somehow knew I was going to die and it is as if I was watching myself from across the room. You were frantic with worry and blasting the operating team.”

“Sounds like me.” His hands soothed her back and tried not to think too hard on what she just told him. He had his own worries.

Of losing her. He could stand to lose the babies, but not her and it was twisting him up inside. What she just told him was going to send him straight into panic zone, but he could not give into it – not while he was around her. He had to be calm and remain so for her sake.

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