Chapter 35: A Flawed Fragility
Author: TheLadyHoll
Pairing: Andy/Miranda
Rating: M
Disclaimer: Yes, they are mine. I own them. Come to me my pretties and dance, DANCE I SAY. Or, more truthfully, not...
I told you reviews work! And, I couldn't be too cruel in prolonging the tension.
As always, let me know what you think! And what do you think is coming in the next chapter? xx - TLH
"Oh my God, Miranda."
"Andrea, get Andrea," Miranda croaked, her voice breaking and call…call an ambulance."
That last sentence seemed to shock Nigel into action and he yelled out the door for Emily in a decidedly un-Nigel like tone before taking off his jacket and wrapping it around the frozen editor, who seemed only able to look at the growing crimson stain on the previously spotless floor.
Nigel's gesture coincided with a first awful cramp, but luckily the older man still had his arms around her shoulders from placing his jacket and he scooped her up into his arms as he felt her legs give way.
"What on…Oh my God." Emily's face blanched at Miranda's pained expression and the blood pooled on the chair and dripping onto the floor sinisterly, her pale English skin now like chalk.
"Call Roy, see if he's nearby. He might get here faster than an ambulance will at this hour, and call Andrea."
"What are you going to call me, Nige?" A familiar teasing voice floated down the hall as the woman in question arrived to meet her fiancée for lunch.
"Miranda!" the rough yell held so much fear that it froze both Nigel and Emily as they watched their friend and former colleague drop the Styrofoam containers of food she was carrying and run the length of the meeting room as she came through the door to the nightmarish scene.
Emily lifted the phone from her ear. Roy's downstairs and Dr. Jansen will meet you in emergency at Presbyterian." Miranda gripped Andy's hand tightly as another brutal pain ripped through her abdomen. Andy pressed her lips to the clammy skin before letting go reluctantly so Nigel could get to the elevator doors Emily was currently defending from a group of clackers who had gathered at the commotion.
"Andrea, the babies…It's too soon. It's too early, they're not ready!" Miranda's voice had escalated to a shrill cry of panic once they were in the elevator. "They're too little! It's not, ugh, it's not time" she panted. "I, oh please, please I can't lose them. Oh God, ah! Andrea, I swear to you, I thought it was just gas bubbles again, l-like the day of the amniocentesis. I didn't notice the blood until I stood and I, I…"
"Shhh," Andy willed the floors between them to disappear as she stroked the hair back from the beloved, terrified face, trying to calm the older woman down despite her own growing panic, not knowing what the matter was but knowing the babies, and indeed Miranda were in a fragile enough condition that neither would be able to take any great level of distress.
Seventeen floors had never felt longer, and if Andy hadn't been so completely focused on Miranda she might have realized, with a cruel twist of irony, that this was likely the first time in 20 years Miranda had been in an elevator with more than one other person.
But focused she was, terrified but focused as she kept hold of Miranda's hand even as the other clutched in agony at her belly.
No! Miranda's mind roared inside her head, hoping against all hope that somehow she could manage to slow her heart rate or command her uterus to hold its contents, But her womb seemed determined to expel what was in it and she felt warm blood drip from between her thighs.
The hand not holding Andy's in a death grip protectively cradled the underside of her belly. "It hurts," she exclaimed breathlessly, her face noticeably paler than before as Nigel eased into the waiting car with his precious cargo and Andy removed the garment from over Miranda's head where it had shielded her from sight and identification and wrapped it around her body as the editor began to shiver.
"She's bleeding through the jacket," Nigel murmured to Andy although he knew she could see the blood seeping through Miranda's skirt from where she was practically swaddled in Andrea's arms.
Andy nodded jerkily, not taking her eyes off Miranda and keeping her gaze steady and calm as best she could in the hopes it would soothe the near-hyperventilating woman who had now ceased any attempt at stifling her cries as each new contraction or pain assaulted her body and drew more blood from her.
By divine providence Andy was sure, Roy had found a police car a block away from Runway and convinced them to provide an escort to the hospital so that they were able to speed through the midday traffic with the blare of sirens clearing their path, although they didn't drown out Roy's curses, drawn from him whenever he thought the squad car wasn't going fast enough or taking the fastest route.
"God bless Emily," Andy breathed as she saw a group of doctors and a team with a stretcher come out of the emergency doors as they pulled up to NYP.
"Miranda, we're here, it's going to be okay." Andy promised hopelessly, her voice cracking as she received no response.
Having transferred Miranda into Andy's arms in the back of the car so Nigel could get in after them, Andy was aware of the copious bloodstains on her jeans and blouse and hands, but appearance was the last thing on her mind as she watched as Miranda was taken out of her arms, unconscious and with laboured breathing, and wheeled away on a stretcher for the second time since Andy realized she was in love with the woman.
Miranda had slipped into unconsciousness soon after they got in the car and hadn't responded to Andy's desperate pleas to wake up except for a faint moan and a weak flutter of her eyelids at the initial touch of Andy's lips on her forehead as the younger woman tightened her hold on the limp frame of the editor.
"Sweetheart, please come back to me," Andy pleaded, knowing she would willingly give everything she owned to see the familiar baby blues that she had come to learn turned stormy grey or even indigo depending on their owner's tempestuous moods.
"We'll take care of her, I promise." One of the younger doctors tried to comfort Andy as he gently took Miranda out of her arms, leaving her with nothing but a blood-sodden jacket held limply in her hand.
Blindly following the team of doctors until they came to a restricted area, Andy turned to Nigel, wild eyed as Miranda was rolled out of sight. Her knees gave out completely as she saw his blood-soaked clothing as well and the faint bloody fingerprints visible on his tie and shoulders that she knew belonged to Miranda.
"My God, Nigel. What if something happens to her? What am I going to do? What am I going to tell the girls? How can I explain…I can't, I can't lose her Nige, and the babies…"
The man half-carried, half-dragged Andrea into the lobby of the hospital and into one of the waiting room chairs, leaving her for a minute as he disappeared momentarily, returning with a bottle of water he'd procured from the nurse's station and urged her to take a sip before she passed out as well.
Andy hiccupped disconsolately and stared towards the doors where she had last seen Miranda, as though she could somehow see into the OR. "Oh God, oh God, oh God…"
"Andy," Nigel stated quietly, knowing what was going through the younger woman's mind. "This was not your fault. This was not Miranda's fault. This was an accident, a fluke."
"It would kill her if she lost these babies, Nigel. She already feels guilty for the TTS and not wanting them when she first found out she was pregnant."
"Her abusive ex-husband had gotten her pregnant at almost fifty before assaulting her in their own home, what's to want?"
"The babies…" Andy whispered, her gaze drawn back to the double doors. "She has spent this entire pregnancy literally sick with fear. Between the trial, and the babies' diagnosis and the girls…I don't know what else I can do to help her or make things better."
"Andy, I can tell you that your presence alone has changed her. Never have I ever in my twenty-eight years of knowing her seen her allow herself to draw strength or lean on anyone around her. Not Jeremy, certainly not Steven. The closest she came was me and even then there were walls I couldn't, that I can't and never will breach, doors I couldn't open that she wouldn't talk about."
Before Andy could reply, a man in scrubs approached, his nametag proclaiming him as head of general surgery.
"She's asking for her wife. Would that be her?"
"Err, yes." Nigel confirmed tentatively.
"What?" Andy turned her head, "Hi, yes, Miranda Priestly - do you have any news?"
"We've given her a sedative, but she's fighting it. Says she needs to talk to you before we take her in for surgery."
"Surgery?" Andy's knees truly buckled this time and she was grateful for the bank of chairs behind her as she landed gracelessly, gripping the armrests as she fought the urge to put her head between her knees. "Ca-can't you just give her medication to stop the contractions?"
Dr. Jansen came out of the ER doors next, red hair captured in a bun and tied up in her surgical cap. "Andy!"
"Dr. Jansen! What -" The attractive brunette doctor moved swiftly over to the small group and knelt by Andy's chair, forcing the younger woman to meet her gaze as she gave voice to Andrea's greatest fears.
"Andy, we have to take her into surgery, because of her high blood pressure, one of the blood vessels that feeds from the placenta to the babies was blown out. We need to take the pressure off Baby B and see if we can get her heart rate back up because that was one of the main means of support for her side of the amniotic sac."
"And if you don't? Take her in, that is?"
"If we don't do something to equalize the rate of flow, Baby B's heart rate will stay too low; her organs will shut down, and Baby A's pressure will keep rising and put him at risk for an aneurysm and his enlarged heart to arrest. In either case, something has to be done because the part of the placenta where the vessel burst is starving and soon it will start to detach from the uterine wall causing an abruption."
"A-abruption?" Andy vaguely recalled seeing that term in one of the pregnancy books, but couldn't quite remember what it was. She knew it was bad, though.
"It'll cause a haemorrhage. She'll bleed out, Andy; her own blood pressure isn't stable enough to handle that kind of stress. Her body's already been pushed to the limits with this pregnancy at fifty."
"And if, if it doesn't work?"
Dr. Jansen shook her head sorrowfully, but didn't mince her words. "If we were to deliver them now, the babies wouldn't make it Andy, I'm sorry, they're just too little. At most if they survived the birth, you might have several hours before the life support machines wouldn't be enough. There would be internal bleeding, brain damage, they would need to be intubated…"
"Go," Andy gasped, her own body feeling as though it was shutting down. "Please, do whatever you have to do. Just save them. I-I can't…Oh God, I can't breathe."
Worried about the young woman in front of her, but more worried still about the woman behind the OR doors Dr. Jansen nodded at the older man beside Andrea and let him take the violently shivering brunette into his arms before she jogged back through the doors.
She felt something vibrate in her hand and she realized she was still clutching her phone, which showed Cassidy's picture as a text came in that read. "Do u think we can convince mom the babies want Thai food 2nite?"
Oh God, the girls! They were supposed to be coming back tonight. Bile rushed up in the back of Andy's throat and her stomach cramped violently, threatening total rebellion as she staggered to her feet, shoving the phone into Nigel's chest and running for the women's bathroom at the end of the hall. Once it felt like her body had ridded itself of everything she had ever eaten, she splashed her face with water and ran her wrists under cold water until the flop sweat had dried and she felt it was safe to move again. As empty as she felt now, she feared leaving porcelain cocoon of the bathroom where no one would enter and tell her that her life was over.
Three and then four hours passed before they were given any word. After the first two hours, Nigel had had to return to Runway in crisis mode to deal with keeping the rumours and noise about Miranda to a minimum and having Emily draft emails reminding Elias-Clarke employees about the non-disclosure agreement contained in each of their contracts that prohibited them from talking to the press. But before he had left he had fiercely embraced the younger woman and under his breath, muttered "She's tough, Andy. The strongest woman I know, she will make it through this. Believe in that, believe in her. Call me the minute she's out of surgery, alright?"
Andy nodded but didn't raise her head to meet his eyes. Instead she continued counting the laminate tiles on the floor of the smaller surgical waiting room, over and over compulsively - as though counting the tiles were the only thing keeping Miranda alive and she just had to keep counting.
Three and a half hours came and went as Andy alternated between counting and pleading with God to keep Miranda with her and raging against Him as she contemplated the unthinkable. Memory after memory both good and bad raced through her mind. Although it was Miranda on the operating table, it was her own life that flashed before her eyes, only slowing down when it came to Miranda's shocking, willing admission that she loved the younger woman back, and flashbacks from their relationship. Miranda's proud smile as she showed off her tiny bump the day she had 'popped'. The girls reading to that same small belly even though it was too early for the babies to hear. The countless times she had helped Miranda through her morning sickness and sat with her, sometimes for hours, until she felt well enough to move…and Miranda's proposal in Paris…Tears she thought had run dry squeezed from her aching eyes and she fisted her hands together so tightly around the platinum band it was only when she saw the fresh blood, her own, join Miranda's on her hand that she realized she had punctured her own hand with the precision-cut stones.
"Andy?"
Andy's heart leapt, Miranda still in her mind's eye. But that image faded, leaving in its place the exhausted features of Dr. Jansen as the doctor knelt in front of her, having failed to break the younger woman out of her seeming trance.
Andy tried to speak, tried to ask if Miranda was alright, if they had been forced to deliver the babies stillborn, if either were still alive. But a voice not her own simply rasped "Please."
Dr. Jansen took hold of the woman's forearms, hoping it would help ground her along with the news she had come to deliver.
"They're alright."
Andy's vision actually blurred and dimmed before a firm hand brought her head down between her knees and instructed her to take deep breaths. When she was no longer in danger of passing out, Andrea tightened her own hold on the doctor's forearms.
"Miranda, the babies"
"They're okay, they're alive," Dr. Jansen reassured her. "We were able to successfully divert blood flow away from Baby A and re-establish a primary and secondary connection to the donor twin."
"And the abruption? Is there still a chance that whatever it is separates and Miranda will bleed out?"
"There's always a chance, but I don't see that happening here," Dr. Jansen was quick to follow her first statement with a reassurance. "She will need to stay in the critical care wing of the obstetrics unit for a minimum - a minimum of a week on strict bedrest. The first couple of days she'll be on a catheter and then we'll try for getting her up and walking. Then it will be a week of bed rest at home and then a less restrictive schedule until I'm comfortable delivering her. She's still at risk for further preeclampsia symptoms but I promise we're going to do everything it takes to ensure Miranda and the babies come through this safely.
Andy nodded, silent tears streaming down her face at the relief of knowing she hadn't lost her family. The legal documents regarding chain of custody for Caroline and Cassidy had only arrived the night before and obviously, the twin's father wasn't able to sign them. If Miranda, God forbid, died, Andy would have no claim or say over guardianship of the twins, and with Miranda gone, her ex-husband might change his mind and refuse any sharing of rights or custody.
Andy's mind kept tripping over itself as she struggled to single out one of the thousand questions racing through her mind to ask Dr. Jansen. Knowing there was little that could be done for Miranda until the babies were born, Andy finally settled on a question she knew Miranda would ask the moment she was conscious and sentient.
"The babies - you said they made it through the surgery, what" Andy took a deep breath, "what are their chances? Is there going to be any lasting damage and how do we know this isn't going to happen again."
Dr. Jansen nodded thoughtfully at the question before answering. "Like I said, the surgery overall was a success in that we were able to re-route and short certain blood vessels so the distribution of nutrients was equalized. We knew this surgery was a distinct possibility back from when Miranda was first diagnosed, it simply happened that we had to perform it under emergency circumstances. However…baby A and baby B are looking good so far. The work done on the blood vessels seems to be holding and we're monitoring each twin carefully. Baby B's heart rate has dropped a few times but seems to have stabilized in the last hour or so, and we were able to remove excess fluid around Baby A so that some of the pressure was relieved and we can see from the ultrasound that the swelling in the tissue of the heart has stopped."
"Oh God," Andy moaned, dropping her head into her hands again so that the room would stop spinning before she jerked upright again.
"Miranda. Please, I need to see her. She's out of surgery right? Tell them she needs to be in a private room, I don't care what the cost is I'll pay it. And all the staff present during intake and the surgery, they need to sign non-disclosure forms apart from the standard issue hospital policy - "
"Andy, breathe." A wry smile twisted Dr. Jansen's lips for the first time since Andy had seen her that day. "It's taken care of. Before the surgery, all staff present had to sign the disclosure agreement we had on file from when Miranda was last in hospital and I've instructed for her to be transferred to a private room in the high risk obstetrics wing once she's out of critical care. Now, are you ready to see her?"
Andy nodded, standing up so fast that she nearly knocked Dr. Jansen over and stumbled slightly at the head rush from her sudden ascent.
Walking down the hall, Dr. Jansen warned Andy regarding what she could expect to find. "There's going to be a lot of scary looking equipment in there, but for the most part their purpose is for monitoring Miranda and the babies. We have her on an IV of course and she'll be receiving one or two blood transfusions to bump up her RBC count until it's back to normal. The majority of the surgery was done laparoscopically so the incision we had to make is only about 3 inches, but we needed at least that much space to try and repair the detachment. We'll know if that was a success if we can see by ultrasound that the placenta has started to repair itself against the wall of the uterus. If it hasn't, Miranda will need to stay in the hospital for the remainder of her pregnancy, because if it tears or detaches again she could easily bleed out before we're able to get her into surgery."
A sickly rush of bile surged over Andy's tongue but she swallowed resolutely, nodding to let Dr. Jansen know she heard her, but afraid to open her mouth.
"It may look bad, Andy, but she was lucky; incredibly lucky. And even after today I'm still placing the odds on that woman in there," Dr. Jansen nodded towards a closed door. "She'll be out for a few hours yet, but the nurses know you're to be let in at any time. I'll come back in a little while to check on you both."
Opening the door to Miranda's hospital room, Andy let out a weak whimper as she took in the sight before her. Machines of every size and kind surrounded the armoured looking bed and were beeping and whirring faintly.
Ow! Andy's knee hit the rail of the bed. She hadn't realized she'd been moving closer until she was quite literally face to face with the unconscious woman lying in front of her.
Andy reached out a trembling hand to stroke the peaceful features, but she knew it was a false comfort. Miranda wasn't merely sleeping, she was unconscious in a drugged sleep rather than a natural one. The way her arms lay at her sides and her legs lain straight told her that. Miranda detested sleeping on her back, it made her feel open, vulnerable to attack and in a poor position for appropriate rejoinder. No matter how she fell asleep, morning would find her curled on her side or on her stomach, most often curled into Andrea, who regularly joked that Miranda only kept her around to be her body pillow.
As Miranda's pregnancy advanced, her swelling abdomen would often cause great discomfort as she struggled to find a comfortable position, or at least one that would give her a chance at sleep.
"Huh!" The short sharp exhalation and the soft grunts that followed woke Andy from a sleep she had only managed minutes before. "Damn!" the frustrated whisper came again with more movement from the mattress beside her. Honestly exhausted and sleep muddled, Andy stayed silent and still, hoping Miranda would settle soon so that they could both get some rest. She also didn't relish the thought of trying or saying something to help when Miranda was like this. She thought she was safe when after a minute or so the bouncing of the mattress ceased and she closed her eyes, already drifting away when she heard a single, stifled sob. All thoughts of sleep forgotten, Andy sat up and turned on the lamp on the bedside table. When her eyes adjusted to the light she saw Miranda, her arms crossed and with a hand over her mouth as she tried to muffle the overwrought sobs that kept escaping her lips.
"Miranda," Andy's voice was soft and melodic as she got on her knees beside the editor on top of the duvet. "Baby, what's wrong?"
Unsure if Miranda would welcome or want full body contact, Andy simply reached out to rub her back, waiting until Miranda could speak again.
"I j-just w-want to sleep," Miranda wept, so completely overtired that the sobs sounded hysterical.
"Okay, okay," Andy crooned, her other hand reached out just to rest lightly on the side of Miranda's belly. "What is it? Sweetheart, talk to me, what can I do?"
Miranda had stopped crying now but was still hiccupping and gasping.
"Okay, gimme a sec," Andy slid off of the side of the bed and disappeared into the bathroom, reappearing with a glass of water and what appeared to be a damp facecloth. Climbing back overtop of the covers Andy reached out to run the back of her hand softly down Miranda's cheeks. Moving even closer to the older woman, Andy handed the glass of water over to her and then dabbed at the flushed and tearstained cheeks with the cool cloth.
Oh god that was heavenly, Miranda thought inwardly as she closed her eyes and enjoyed cooling, calming effect of the washcloth as Andy patted her cheeks and let it rest lightly overtop her swollen eyelids, finally moving to her chest and the back of neck, both of which glistened with perspiration. Once all the coolness had left the cloth, Andy tossed it back towards the bathroom before focussing her attention once again on the woman in front of her. So close now they were almost touching, Andy reached out to rest her fingertips lightly against Miranda's breastbone overtop her heart and rubbed gently, hoping her heart rate would slow.
"Hey, it's alright, we'll fix this," Andy soothed while she moved Miranda's hands, wrapped around the cool glass of water, to her lips so that she would drink. Thankfully, Miranda complied. Andy didn't know what would be more detrimental - Miranda refusing to drink and getting dehydrated which could lead to lightheadedness and contractions, or Andy having to remind Miranda of that fact and having the older woman panic, raising her blood pressure as a result.
Once she had finished the glass and Andy had set it down on the bedside table, Miranda's hands went to the bump, smoothing the bottom and sides and curving around her lower belly until it appeared as though she was hugging herself.
"I just want to sleep," Miranda turned liquid blue eyes on Andy, and she recognized the look as one of someone who believed she could do anything.
"I know," Andy moved once more to her side of the bed and lay down, propping her head up on one elbow. "Did you want to lie down and try to see if we can find a comfortable position? Tomorrow I'll order one of those pregnancy pillows you can wrap yourself around.
Miranda just sniffed and nodded before easing herself down, first facing Andrea. But after a moment an ache started in her lower belly that elicited a cry of pain before Andy helped her roll her swollen body over without hurting or straining herself. Now Miranda was lying on her right side with Andrea behind her; a long shuddering sigh followed by an intake of breath that sounded very much like someone trying not to cry.
Then Miranda felt the warmth and weight of a lean, strong body press against her back as Andrea moved in to snuggle up behind her. Miranda felt her shoulders and spine relax at the feel of the heat pressed against them and Andrea pressed in even more tightly so that Miranda's weight was supported against Andy's chest rather than weighted by her own body so that it held all the tension between Miranda's body and the mattress. Next, Miranda felt a knee gently nudge apart her thighs, sliding forward so that her legs were kept apart without any effort, thereby reducing the pulling in her spine.
Miranda was about to open her mouth to thank the younger woman when a hand smoothed over her hip and came to rest overtop of her swollen stomach and as a result holding the editor in a comforting embrace, rubbing the circles that never failed to make the babies and the editor herself, instantly drowsy.
"How's that, sweetheart?"
"Ohh, better, much better," Miranda all but purred, her moan one of relief rather than pain, although her voice still a little smoky from the earlier tears.
"Do you think you can get some rest now?"
"Mmm," already Miranda was drifting off. The poor thing really was exhausted. Soft snores followed this statement and Andy, turning the alarms on BOTH their phones to OFF, sighed in relief before wriggling back down beneath the covers and pressing her lips to the sleeping woman's shoulder. Soft nudges and kicks came from beneath the smooth skin and silk to meet Andy's palm and the young woman fell asleep smiling as she held 2/3 of her family safe in her arms.
Needing to see for herself, the damage that had been done to save her fiancee's life, Andy pulled back the thin sheet covering Miranda's upper body. Whimpering slightly at the sight of the gauze bandage covering the incision, Andy let the sheet fall just under the bandages, noting that a thick sanitary pad had been secured to Miranda to absorb any residual bleeding. Her stomach surged into her throat as she stared at the bulky, awkward undergarment through which the catheter snaked. Oh God, this was real. This was real, she wasn't dreaming, Miranda had been bleeding out in her arms. Her stomach cramped violently and instantly Andy knew she wasn't going to make it to the bathroom and wretchedly, doubled over where she stood. But her earlier bout of illness had emptied her system, so Andy waited out the dry heaves and the awful noises coming from her throat, glad at this moment that Miranda wasn't awake to see this.
Still bent over and breathing heavily, Andy's mind settled on another thought. What if this happened again? Miranda couldn't be left alone, even with a cell phone to call for help if she needed it, it was too risky. Oh God, and now she couldn't even think about taking on that assignment for The Mirror, she would not be away from Miranda for so long. And if Miranda went into labour prematurely? Although Manhattan was small from a geographical perspective, the density of the population and rows upon rows of office buildings and skyscrapers could easily stall what should be a 14 minute drive to 45 minutes.
After multiple tests on her heart and blood pressure, it was determined that it was too dangerous for Miranda to go into labour on her own or deliver naturally. Dr. Jansen, along with Miranda and Andy's consent, had set a date for a planned caesarean section a week or so before Dr. Jansen thought Miranda was likely to deliver. The babies would be premature, but that risk would be mitigated by the strict monitoring of the babies' vitals throughout the surgery and the immediate neonatal care they would be given after the birth. Although she hadn't said anything, Andy knew the older woman was hesitant to agree to the surgery, especially given her experience with Caroline and Cassidy's births. The risks and recovery time, as well as the potential side effects were menacing when placed against two tiny babies and the petite woman carrying them.
Now, given the delicate state and fragile condition of the placenta, the surgery became an even more daunting prospect as additional technology and technique would be required to subjugate the obstacle of cutting into the uterus and avoiding 'weak spots'.
Stomach muscles protesting and chest burning, Andy pulled a chair over to the side of the bed, resting her elbows on the mattress and reaching out for Miranda's belly, letting her hand rest ever so lightly against the firm warmth and taut skin. Never breaking contact, Andy then rested her eyes on the bank of monitors surrounding the opposite side of the bed and staring at the different statistics that might as well have shown Andy's chances of survival so crucial were they to the young woman, not realizing her own vision was beginning to blur as her head bobbed lower and then sunk to the mattress.
Pairing: Andy/Miranda
Rating: M
Disclaimer: Yes, they are mine. I own them. Come to me my pretties and dance, DANCE I SAY. Or, more truthfully, not...
I told you reviews work! And, I couldn't be too cruel in prolonging the tension.
As always, let me know what you think! And what do you think is coming in the next chapter? xx - TLH
"Oh my God, Miranda."
"Andrea, get Andrea," Miranda croaked, her voice breaking and call…call an ambulance."
That last sentence seemed to shock Nigel into action and he yelled out the door for Emily in a decidedly un-Nigel like tone before taking off his jacket and wrapping it around the frozen editor, who seemed only able to look at the growing crimson stain on the previously spotless floor.
Nigel's gesture coincided with a first awful cramp, but luckily the older man still had his arms around her shoulders from placing his jacket and he scooped her up into his arms as he felt her legs give way.
"What on…Oh my God." Emily's face blanched at Miranda's pained expression and the blood pooled on the chair and dripping onto the floor sinisterly, her pale English skin now like chalk.
"Call Roy, see if he's nearby. He might get here faster than an ambulance will at this hour, and call Andrea."
"What are you going to call me, Nige?" A familiar teasing voice floated down the hall as the woman in question arrived to meet her fiancée for lunch.
"Miranda!" the rough yell held so much fear that it froze both Nigel and Emily as they watched their friend and former colleague drop the Styrofoam containers of food she was carrying and run the length of the meeting room as she came through the door to the nightmarish scene.
Emily lifted the phone from her ear. Roy's downstairs and Dr. Jansen will meet you in emergency at Presbyterian." Miranda gripped Andy's hand tightly as another brutal pain ripped through her abdomen. Andy pressed her lips to the clammy skin before letting go reluctantly so Nigel could get to the elevator doors Emily was currently defending from a group of clackers who had gathered at the commotion.
"Andrea, the babies…It's too soon. It's too early, they're not ready!" Miranda's voice had escalated to a shrill cry of panic once they were in the elevator. "They're too little! It's not, ugh, it's not time" she panted. "I, oh please, please I can't lose them. Oh God, ah! Andrea, I swear to you, I thought it was just gas bubbles again, l-like the day of the amniocentesis. I didn't notice the blood until I stood and I, I…"
"Shhh," Andy willed the floors between them to disappear as she stroked the hair back from the beloved, terrified face, trying to calm the older woman down despite her own growing panic, not knowing what the matter was but knowing the babies, and indeed Miranda were in a fragile enough condition that neither would be able to take any great level of distress.
Seventeen floors had never felt longer, and if Andy hadn't been so completely focused on Miranda she might have realized, with a cruel twist of irony, that this was likely the first time in 20 years Miranda had been in an elevator with more than one other person.
But focused she was, terrified but focused as she kept hold of Miranda's hand even as the other clutched in agony at her belly.
No! Miranda's mind roared inside her head, hoping against all hope that somehow she could manage to slow her heart rate or command her uterus to hold its contents, But her womb seemed determined to expel what was in it and she felt warm blood drip from between her thighs.
The hand not holding Andy's in a death grip protectively cradled the underside of her belly. "It hurts," she exclaimed breathlessly, her face noticeably paler than before as Nigel eased into the waiting car with his precious cargo and Andy removed the garment from over Miranda's head where it had shielded her from sight and identification and wrapped it around her body as the editor began to shiver.
"She's bleeding through the jacket," Nigel murmured to Andy although he knew she could see the blood seeping through Miranda's skirt from where she was practically swaddled in Andrea's arms.
Andy nodded jerkily, not taking her eyes off Miranda and keeping her gaze steady and calm as best she could in the hopes it would soothe the near-hyperventilating woman who had now ceased any attempt at stifling her cries as each new contraction or pain assaulted her body and drew more blood from her.
By divine providence Andy was sure, Roy had found a police car a block away from Runway and convinced them to provide an escort to the hospital so that they were able to speed through the midday traffic with the blare of sirens clearing their path, although they didn't drown out Roy's curses, drawn from him whenever he thought the squad car wasn't going fast enough or taking the fastest route.
"God bless Emily," Andy breathed as she saw a group of doctors and a team with a stretcher come out of the emergency doors as they pulled up to NYP.
"Miranda, we're here, it's going to be okay." Andy promised hopelessly, her voice cracking as she received no response.
Having transferred Miranda into Andy's arms in the back of the car so Nigel could get in after them, Andy was aware of the copious bloodstains on her jeans and blouse and hands, but appearance was the last thing on her mind as she watched as Miranda was taken out of her arms, unconscious and with laboured breathing, and wheeled away on a stretcher for the second time since Andy realized she was in love with the woman.
Miranda had slipped into unconsciousness soon after they got in the car and hadn't responded to Andy's desperate pleas to wake up except for a faint moan and a weak flutter of her eyelids at the initial touch of Andy's lips on her forehead as the younger woman tightened her hold on the limp frame of the editor.
"Sweetheart, please come back to me," Andy pleaded, knowing she would willingly give everything she owned to see the familiar baby blues that she had come to learn turned stormy grey or even indigo depending on their owner's tempestuous moods.
"We'll take care of her, I promise." One of the younger doctors tried to comfort Andy as he gently took Miranda out of her arms, leaving her with nothing but a blood-sodden jacket held limply in her hand.
Blindly following the team of doctors until they came to a restricted area, Andy turned to Nigel, wild eyed as Miranda was rolled out of sight. Her knees gave out completely as she saw his blood-soaked clothing as well and the faint bloody fingerprints visible on his tie and shoulders that she knew belonged to Miranda.
"My God, Nigel. What if something happens to her? What am I going to do? What am I going to tell the girls? How can I explain…I can't, I can't lose her Nige, and the babies…"
The man half-carried, half-dragged Andrea into the lobby of the hospital and into one of the waiting room chairs, leaving her for a minute as he disappeared momentarily, returning with a bottle of water he'd procured from the nurse's station and urged her to take a sip before she passed out as well.
Andy hiccupped disconsolately and stared towards the doors where she had last seen Miranda, as though she could somehow see into the OR. "Oh God, oh God, oh God…"
"Andy," Nigel stated quietly, knowing what was going through the younger woman's mind. "This was not your fault. This was not Miranda's fault. This was an accident, a fluke."
"It would kill her if she lost these babies, Nigel. She already feels guilty for the TTS and not wanting them when she first found out she was pregnant."
"Her abusive ex-husband had gotten her pregnant at almost fifty before assaulting her in their own home, what's to want?"
"The babies…" Andy whispered, her gaze drawn back to the double doors. "She has spent this entire pregnancy literally sick with fear. Between the trial, and the babies' diagnosis and the girls…I don't know what else I can do to help her or make things better."
"Andy, I can tell you that your presence alone has changed her. Never have I ever in my twenty-eight years of knowing her seen her allow herself to draw strength or lean on anyone around her. Not Jeremy, certainly not Steven. The closest she came was me and even then there were walls I couldn't, that I can't and never will breach, doors I couldn't open that she wouldn't talk about."
Before Andy could reply, a man in scrubs approached, his nametag proclaiming him as head of general surgery.
"She's asking for her wife. Would that be her?"
"Err, yes." Nigel confirmed tentatively.
"What?" Andy turned her head, "Hi, yes, Miranda Priestly - do you have any news?"
"We've given her a sedative, but she's fighting it. Says she needs to talk to you before we take her in for surgery."
"Surgery?" Andy's knees truly buckled this time and she was grateful for the bank of chairs behind her as she landed gracelessly, gripping the armrests as she fought the urge to put her head between her knees. "Ca-can't you just give her medication to stop the contractions?"
Dr. Jansen came out of the ER doors next, red hair captured in a bun and tied up in her surgical cap. "Andy!"
"Dr. Jansen! What -" The attractive brunette doctor moved swiftly over to the small group and knelt by Andy's chair, forcing the younger woman to meet her gaze as she gave voice to Andrea's greatest fears.
"Andy, we have to take her into surgery, because of her high blood pressure, one of the blood vessels that feeds from the placenta to the babies was blown out. We need to take the pressure off Baby B and see if we can get her heart rate back up because that was one of the main means of support for her side of the amniotic sac."
"And if you don't? Take her in, that is?"
"If we don't do something to equalize the rate of flow, Baby B's heart rate will stay too low; her organs will shut down, and Baby A's pressure will keep rising and put him at risk for an aneurysm and his enlarged heart to arrest. In either case, something has to be done because the part of the placenta where the vessel burst is starving and soon it will start to detach from the uterine wall causing an abruption."
"A-abruption?" Andy vaguely recalled seeing that term in one of the pregnancy books, but couldn't quite remember what it was. She knew it was bad, though.
"It'll cause a haemorrhage. She'll bleed out, Andy; her own blood pressure isn't stable enough to handle that kind of stress. Her body's already been pushed to the limits with this pregnancy at fifty."
"And if, if it doesn't work?"
Dr. Jansen shook her head sorrowfully, but didn't mince her words. "If we were to deliver them now, the babies wouldn't make it Andy, I'm sorry, they're just too little. At most if they survived the birth, you might have several hours before the life support machines wouldn't be enough. There would be internal bleeding, brain damage, they would need to be intubated…"
"Go," Andy gasped, her own body feeling as though it was shutting down. "Please, do whatever you have to do. Just save them. I-I can't…Oh God, I can't breathe."
Worried about the young woman in front of her, but more worried still about the woman behind the OR doors Dr. Jansen nodded at the older man beside Andrea and let him take the violently shivering brunette into his arms before she jogged back through the doors.
She felt something vibrate in her hand and she realized she was still clutching her phone, which showed Cassidy's picture as a text came in that read. "Do u think we can convince mom the babies want Thai food 2nite?"
Oh God, the girls! They were supposed to be coming back tonight. Bile rushed up in the back of Andy's throat and her stomach cramped violently, threatening total rebellion as she staggered to her feet, shoving the phone into Nigel's chest and running for the women's bathroom at the end of the hall. Once it felt like her body had ridded itself of everything she had ever eaten, she splashed her face with water and ran her wrists under cold water until the flop sweat had dried and she felt it was safe to move again. As empty as she felt now, she feared leaving porcelain cocoon of the bathroom where no one would enter and tell her that her life was over.
Three and then four hours passed before they were given any word. After the first two hours, Nigel had had to return to Runway in crisis mode to deal with keeping the rumours and noise about Miranda to a minimum and having Emily draft emails reminding Elias-Clarke employees about the non-disclosure agreement contained in each of their contracts that prohibited them from talking to the press. But before he had left he had fiercely embraced the younger woman and under his breath, muttered "She's tough, Andy. The strongest woman I know, she will make it through this. Believe in that, believe in her. Call me the minute she's out of surgery, alright?"
Andy nodded but didn't raise her head to meet his eyes. Instead she continued counting the laminate tiles on the floor of the smaller surgical waiting room, over and over compulsively - as though counting the tiles were the only thing keeping Miranda alive and she just had to keep counting.
Three and a half hours came and went as Andy alternated between counting and pleading with God to keep Miranda with her and raging against Him as she contemplated the unthinkable. Memory after memory both good and bad raced through her mind. Although it was Miranda on the operating table, it was her own life that flashed before her eyes, only slowing down when it came to Miranda's shocking, willing admission that she loved the younger woman back, and flashbacks from their relationship. Miranda's proud smile as she showed off her tiny bump the day she had 'popped'. The girls reading to that same small belly even though it was too early for the babies to hear. The countless times she had helped Miranda through her morning sickness and sat with her, sometimes for hours, until she felt well enough to move…and Miranda's proposal in Paris…Tears she thought had run dry squeezed from her aching eyes and she fisted her hands together so tightly around the platinum band it was only when she saw the fresh blood, her own, join Miranda's on her hand that she realized she had punctured her own hand with the precision-cut stones.
"Andy?"
Andy's heart leapt, Miranda still in her mind's eye. But that image faded, leaving in its place the exhausted features of Dr. Jansen as the doctor knelt in front of her, having failed to break the younger woman out of her seeming trance.
Andy tried to speak, tried to ask if Miranda was alright, if they had been forced to deliver the babies stillborn, if either were still alive. But a voice not her own simply rasped "Please."
Dr. Jansen took hold of the woman's forearms, hoping it would help ground her along with the news she had come to deliver.
"They're alright."
Andy's vision actually blurred and dimmed before a firm hand brought her head down between her knees and instructed her to take deep breaths. When she was no longer in danger of passing out, Andrea tightened her own hold on the doctor's forearms.
"Miranda, the babies"
"They're okay, they're alive," Dr. Jansen reassured her. "We were able to successfully divert blood flow away from Baby A and re-establish a primary and secondary connection to the donor twin."
"And the abruption? Is there still a chance that whatever it is separates and Miranda will bleed out?"
"There's always a chance, but I don't see that happening here," Dr. Jansen was quick to follow her first statement with a reassurance. "She will need to stay in the critical care wing of the obstetrics unit for a minimum - a minimum of a week on strict bedrest. The first couple of days she'll be on a catheter and then we'll try for getting her up and walking. Then it will be a week of bed rest at home and then a less restrictive schedule until I'm comfortable delivering her. She's still at risk for further preeclampsia symptoms but I promise we're going to do everything it takes to ensure Miranda and the babies come through this safely.
Andy nodded, silent tears streaming down her face at the relief of knowing she hadn't lost her family. The legal documents regarding chain of custody for Caroline and Cassidy had only arrived the night before and obviously, the twin's father wasn't able to sign them. If Miranda, God forbid, died, Andy would have no claim or say over guardianship of the twins, and with Miranda gone, her ex-husband might change his mind and refuse any sharing of rights or custody.
Andy's mind kept tripping over itself as she struggled to single out one of the thousand questions racing through her mind to ask Dr. Jansen. Knowing there was little that could be done for Miranda until the babies were born, Andy finally settled on a question she knew Miranda would ask the moment she was conscious and sentient.
"The babies - you said they made it through the surgery, what" Andy took a deep breath, "what are their chances? Is there going to be any lasting damage and how do we know this isn't going to happen again."
Dr. Jansen nodded thoughtfully at the question before answering. "Like I said, the surgery overall was a success in that we were able to re-route and short certain blood vessels so the distribution of nutrients was equalized. We knew this surgery was a distinct possibility back from when Miranda was first diagnosed, it simply happened that we had to perform it under emergency circumstances. However…baby A and baby B are looking good so far. The work done on the blood vessels seems to be holding and we're monitoring each twin carefully. Baby B's heart rate has dropped a few times but seems to have stabilized in the last hour or so, and we were able to remove excess fluid around Baby A so that some of the pressure was relieved and we can see from the ultrasound that the swelling in the tissue of the heart has stopped."
"Oh God," Andy moaned, dropping her head into her hands again so that the room would stop spinning before she jerked upright again.
"Miranda. Please, I need to see her. She's out of surgery right? Tell them she needs to be in a private room, I don't care what the cost is I'll pay it. And all the staff present during intake and the surgery, they need to sign non-disclosure forms apart from the standard issue hospital policy - "
"Andy, breathe." A wry smile twisted Dr. Jansen's lips for the first time since Andy had seen her that day. "It's taken care of. Before the surgery, all staff present had to sign the disclosure agreement we had on file from when Miranda was last in hospital and I've instructed for her to be transferred to a private room in the high risk obstetrics wing once she's out of critical care. Now, are you ready to see her?"
Andy nodded, standing up so fast that she nearly knocked Dr. Jansen over and stumbled slightly at the head rush from her sudden ascent.
Walking down the hall, Dr. Jansen warned Andy regarding what she could expect to find. "There's going to be a lot of scary looking equipment in there, but for the most part their purpose is for monitoring Miranda and the babies. We have her on an IV of course and she'll be receiving one or two blood transfusions to bump up her RBC count until it's back to normal. The majority of the surgery was done laparoscopically so the incision we had to make is only about 3 inches, but we needed at least that much space to try and repair the detachment. We'll know if that was a success if we can see by ultrasound that the placenta has started to repair itself against the wall of the uterus. If it hasn't, Miranda will need to stay in the hospital for the remainder of her pregnancy, because if it tears or detaches again she could easily bleed out before we're able to get her into surgery."
A sickly rush of bile surged over Andy's tongue but she swallowed resolutely, nodding to let Dr. Jansen know she heard her, but afraid to open her mouth.
"It may look bad, Andy, but she was lucky; incredibly lucky. And even after today I'm still placing the odds on that woman in there," Dr. Jansen nodded towards a closed door. "She'll be out for a few hours yet, but the nurses know you're to be let in at any time. I'll come back in a little while to check on you both."
Opening the door to Miranda's hospital room, Andy let out a weak whimper as she took in the sight before her. Machines of every size and kind surrounded the armoured looking bed and were beeping and whirring faintly.
Ow! Andy's knee hit the rail of the bed. She hadn't realized she'd been moving closer until she was quite literally face to face with the unconscious woman lying in front of her.
Andy reached out a trembling hand to stroke the peaceful features, but she knew it was a false comfort. Miranda wasn't merely sleeping, she was unconscious in a drugged sleep rather than a natural one. The way her arms lay at her sides and her legs lain straight told her that. Miranda detested sleeping on her back, it made her feel open, vulnerable to attack and in a poor position for appropriate rejoinder. No matter how she fell asleep, morning would find her curled on her side or on her stomach, most often curled into Andrea, who regularly joked that Miranda only kept her around to be her body pillow.
As Miranda's pregnancy advanced, her swelling abdomen would often cause great discomfort as she struggled to find a comfortable position, or at least one that would give her a chance at sleep.
"Huh!" The short sharp exhalation and the soft grunts that followed woke Andy from a sleep she had only managed minutes before. "Damn!" the frustrated whisper came again with more movement from the mattress beside her. Honestly exhausted and sleep muddled, Andy stayed silent and still, hoping Miranda would settle soon so that they could both get some rest. She also didn't relish the thought of trying or saying something to help when Miranda was like this. She thought she was safe when after a minute or so the bouncing of the mattress ceased and she closed her eyes, already drifting away when she heard a single, stifled sob. All thoughts of sleep forgotten, Andy sat up and turned on the lamp on the bedside table. When her eyes adjusted to the light she saw Miranda, her arms crossed and with a hand over her mouth as she tried to muffle the overwrought sobs that kept escaping her lips.
"Miranda," Andy's voice was soft and melodic as she got on her knees beside the editor on top of the duvet. "Baby, what's wrong?"
Unsure if Miranda would welcome or want full body contact, Andy simply reached out to rub her back, waiting until Miranda could speak again.
"I j-just w-want to sleep," Miranda wept, so completely overtired that the sobs sounded hysterical.
"Okay, okay," Andy crooned, her other hand reached out just to rest lightly on the side of Miranda's belly. "What is it? Sweetheart, talk to me, what can I do?"
Miranda had stopped crying now but was still hiccupping and gasping.
"Okay, gimme a sec," Andy slid off of the side of the bed and disappeared into the bathroom, reappearing with a glass of water and what appeared to be a damp facecloth. Climbing back overtop of the covers Andy reached out to run the back of her hand softly down Miranda's cheeks. Moving even closer to the older woman, Andy handed the glass of water over to her and then dabbed at the flushed and tearstained cheeks with the cool cloth.
Oh god that was heavenly, Miranda thought inwardly as she closed her eyes and enjoyed cooling, calming effect of the washcloth as Andy patted her cheeks and let it rest lightly overtop her swollen eyelids, finally moving to her chest and the back of neck, both of which glistened with perspiration. Once all the coolness had left the cloth, Andy tossed it back towards the bathroom before focussing her attention once again on the woman in front of her. So close now they were almost touching, Andy reached out to rest her fingertips lightly against Miranda's breastbone overtop her heart and rubbed gently, hoping her heart rate would slow.
"Hey, it's alright, we'll fix this," Andy soothed while she moved Miranda's hands, wrapped around the cool glass of water, to her lips so that she would drink. Thankfully, Miranda complied. Andy didn't know what would be more detrimental - Miranda refusing to drink and getting dehydrated which could lead to lightheadedness and contractions, or Andy having to remind Miranda of that fact and having the older woman panic, raising her blood pressure as a result.
Once she had finished the glass and Andy had set it down on the bedside table, Miranda's hands went to the bump, smoothing the bottom and sides and curving around her lower belly until it appeared as though she was hugging herself.
"I just want to sleep," Miranda turned liquid blue eyes on Andy, and she recognized the look as one of someone who believed she could do anything.
"I know," Andy moved once more to her side of the bed and lay down, propping her head up on one elbow. "Did you want to lie down and try to see if we can find a comfortable position? Tomorrow I'll order one of those pregnancy pillows you can wrap yourself around.
Miranda just sniffed and nodded before easing herself down, first facing Andrea. But after a moment an ache started in her lower belly that elicited a cry of pain before Andy helped her roll her swollen body over without hurting or straining herself. Now Miranda was lying on her right side with Andrea behind her; a long shuddering sigh followed by an intake of breath that sounded very much like someone trying not to cry.
Then Miranda felt the warmth and weight of a lean, strong body press against her back as Andrea moved in to snuggle up behind her. Miranda felt her shoulders and spine relax at the feel of the heat pressed against them and Andrea pressed in even more tightly so that Miranda's weight was supported against Andy's chest rather than weighted by her own body so that it held all the tension between Miranda's body and the mattress. Next, Miranda felt a knee gently nudge apart her thighs, sliding forward so that her legs were kept apart without any effort, thereby reducing the pulling in her spine.
Miranda was about to open her mouth to thank the younger woman when a hand smoothed over her hip and came to rest overtop of her swollen stomach and as a result holding the editor in a comforting embrace, rubbing the circles that never failed to make the babies and the editor herself, instantly drowsy.
"How's that, sweetheart?"
"Ohh, better, much better," Miranda all but purred, her moan one of relief rather than pain, although her voice still a little smoky from the earlier tears.
"Do you think you can get some rest now?"
"Mmm," already Miranda was drifting off. The poor thing really was exhausted. Soft snores followed this statement and Andy, turning the alarms on BOTH their phones to OFF, sighed in relief before wriggling back down beneath the covers and pressing her lips to the sleeping woman's shoulder. Soft nudges and kicks came from beneath the smooth skin and silk to meet Andy's palm and the young woman fell asleep smiling as she held 2/3 of her family safe in her arms.
Needing to see for herself, the damage that had been done to save her fiancee's life, Andy pulled back the thin sheet covering Miranda's upper body. Whimpering slightly at the sight of the gauze bandage covering the incision, Andy let the sheet fall just under the bandages, noting that a thick sanitary pad had been secured to Miranda to absorb any residual bleeding. Her stomach surged into her throat as she stared at the bulky, awkward undergarment through which the catheter snaked. Oh God, this was real. This was real, she wasn't dreaming, Miranda had been bleeding out in her arms. Her stomach cramped violently and instantly Andy knew she wasn't going to make it to the bathroom and wretchedly, doubled over where she stood. But her earlier bout of illness had emptied her system, so Andy waited out the dry heaves and the awful noises coming from her throat, glad at this moment that Miranda wasn't awake to see this.
Still bent over and breathing heavily, Andy's mind settled on another thought. What if this happened again? Miranda couldn't be left alone, even with a cell phone to call for help if she needed it, it was too risky. Oh God, and now she couldn't even think about taking on that assignment for The Mirror, she would not be away from Miranda for so long. And if Miranda went into labour prematurely? Although Manhattan was small from a geographical perspective, the density of the population and rows upon rows of office buildings and skyscrapers could easily stall what should be a 14 minute drive to 45 minutes.
After multiple tests on her heart and blood pressure, it was determined that it was too dangerous for Miranda to go into labour on her own or deliver naturally. Dr. Jansen, along with Miranda and Andy's consent, had set a date for a planned caesarean section a week or so before Dr. Jansen thought Miranda was likely to deliver. The babies would be premature, but that risk would be mitigated by the strict monitoring of the babies' vitals throughout the surgery and the immediate neonatal care they would be given after the birth. Although she hadn't said anything, Andy knew the older woman was hesitant to agree to the surgery, especially given her experience with Caroline and Cassidy's births. The risks and recovery time, as well as the potential side effects were menacing when placed against two tiny babies and the petite woman carrying them.
Now, given the delicate state and fragile condition of the placenta, the surgery became an even more daunting prospect as additional technology and technique would be required to subjugate the obstacle of cutting into the uterus and avoiding 'weak spots'.
Stomach muscles protesting and chest burning, Andy pulled a chair over to the side of the bed, resting her elbows on the mattress and reaching out for Miranda's belly, letting her hand rest ever so lightly against the firm warmth and taut skin. Never breaking contact, Andy then rested her eyes on the bank of monitors surrounding the opposite side of the bed and staring at the different statistics that might as well have shown Andy's chances of survival so crucial were they to the young woman, not realizing her own vision was beginning to blur as her head bobbed lower and then sunk to the mattress.