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Chapter 51 – Discoveries and Preparations
Last Updated:
2025-01-15 08:56:00
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Ties of a Contract Chapter 52 – Between Fear and Hope
AlexanderI wake up with a start in the middle of the night. Something feels strange, as though a premonition takes hold of me even before I fully open my eyes. It takes me a few seconds to grasp what’s happening, until I hear Sophia moan softly beside me. When I switch on the bedside lamp, I see her face contorted in pain, lips parted, breathing irregularly.“Sophia?” I call, my voice filled with urgency.She looks at me, trying to sit up in bed, one hand firmly clutching her belly. I can see sweat on her forehead and a trembling at the corner of her lips. The scene looks like something the doctor had warned us about—contractions coming too soon.“It hurts so much, Alexander… It feels like the contractions have started. I’m scared,” she says, panting, gripping my hands, her eyes wide.A knot forms in my throat. We’re at the 33rd week of pregnancy, and the doctor had emphasized it would be ideal to reach at least the 34th week to minimize the risks of a preterm birth. I quickly get to
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AlexanderNurses come in and move quickly, setting up IV bags, steroid injections to help develop the babies’ lungs, repeatedly checking her blood pressure. Each time the pain intensifies, she squeezes my hand so hard my fingers start tingling, but I don’t complain. It’s how she fights.The hours seem endless. Night falls and dawn comes again in a confusing blink. The doctor tries to delay labor as long as he can, but Sophia’s blood pressure remains high. I see the exhaustion etched on her face, the deep shadows under her eyes, her pale expression. The situation is becoming unsustainable.“We need to perform a C-section,” the doctor says, looking at me urgently. “Or we risk losing everyone.”My heart turns cold at those words. I knew it was dangerous, but hearing “lose everyone” shatters my soul.“All right,” I mumble, voice husky. “Do whatever it takes to save my family.”Preparations are swift. I take a moment to put on the surgical gown, cap, and mask. My head spins, and all I can
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AlexanderI wake up with a jolt, and for a moment I’m not sure where I am. When the white, cold lights come into focus, I realize I spent the night sleeping in a hard chair in the hospital corridor. My muscles ache, and my head throbs from the mix of exhaustion and fear that’s gripped me since Sophia was admitted. There’s a suite reserved downstairs, meant for Sophia and the babies once they’re released from the ICU, and I could have stayed there—there’s a very comfortable couch. But I preferred to stay here in the corridor, where I can be closer to Sophia, Noah, and Oliver.I gather my strength and stand up. Someone must have put a blanket over me—maybe one of the nurses, moved by my situation. I look at the clock on the wall: just past seven in the morning. Everything here seems so sterile, so different from the warmth I used to feel when I’d wake up next to Sophia in our bed. She’s in the ICU, recovering from high blood pressure and all the trauma of the premature birth. My sons, O
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AlexanderTime passes, and the desperation intensifies. After what might have been half an hour or an eternity, the door opens. This time, it’s the doctor coming out, her expression grave, though not entirely grim. My eyes question her silently.“We’ve managed to stop the bleeding for now,” she says bluntly. “But the situation is still delicate. She’ll remain sedated for a while so her body can recover.”I close my eyes, and a sob of relief escapes me. I thank the doctor, unsure what to say. My words come out muddled, but it doesn’t matter. What matters is that Sophia is still with us, even if she’s fighting on a razor-thin line between life and death.“May I see her?” I ask, almost pleading.She nods and leads me to the room. Sophia lies there, paler than I’ve ever seen her, hooked up to oxygen tubes, IV fluids, monitors beeping every second. I sit in the chair beside her and hold her cold hand, pressing it to my lips. It’s such a painful contrast to the vitality she’s always shown.
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AlexanderI hurry through the hospital corridors, each step echoing off the silent walls. I spent what felt like an eternity in the neonatal ICU, talking to the nurses about Oliver and Noah’s progress. Though they remain premature, they’re responding well to treatment and equipment, which is an enormous relief to me. But my mind can’t stay focused solely on them; my heart weighs heavily with worry for Sophia, who’s still in the ICU, fighting to recover from the hemorrhage.I’m tired, my legs ache, but hope propels me forward: I need to know if she’s improved. The nurse who asked me to see my sons promised to watch over Sophia while I was gone, yet my longing and fear have only grown. The terror of almost losing her has left deep marks on my soul.As soon as I turn into the corridor leading to the adult ICU, one of the nurses smiles upon recognizing me. She says nothing, just inclines her head slightly, letting me know I can go in. I take a deep breath, trying to calm the nerves twisti
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AlexanderHer voice catches again, and I realize she feels guilty that the birth happened too soon, as if she had failed somehow. I tighten my hold on her hand.“They’re fine, my love,” I say firmly, trying to dispel any insecurities she might have. “They’re both fighters. Of course they’re still in the incubator, but the doctors are optimistic.”“I need to see them,” she murmurs, tears threatening to reappear. “I need to hold them in my arms, to take in their scent…”“You will, my love. As soon as you’re stronger, I’ll personally take you to the neonatal ICU. I promise.”“Can you tell them apart?” she asks, struggling to control her emotions. “Do you know which one is Noah and which is Oliver?”I let out a soft laugh.“Well, it’s hard. I only know who’s who because I know which incubator they’re in. But we’ll have to put bracelets on them, because they really are completely identical. But they’re perfect. Even being so small, it’s amazing how we can already see certain resemblances, n
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AlexanderThe tick-tock of the hallway clock seems louder than ever. I’m seated on a metal chair, watching nurses in light-colored uniforms come and go. They move with calm and focus, carrying clipboards, IV bags, and instruments I barely understand. I wish I had half their composure. I’ve lost track of how many days we’ve been here; everything’s blended together since the premature birth, Sophia’s hemorrhage, and the ongoing anxiety over the babies’ condition.I’ve taken leave from the company, leaving everything to the directors and Dominic. I hope they’re doing a good job, because I can’t think about anything beyond my little family right now.At this very moment, Sophia is undergoing a new post-op exam, and I’m stuck in the corridor, tapping my foot on the cold floor. With every tap, my anxiety mounts. I would prefer to be at her side, but I understand it’s a procedure requiring a sterile environment, and the team asked me to wait outside. I close my eyes, trying to recall the smi
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AlexanderHours later, I leave her to rest because the doctor insists I shouldn’t exhaust her too much. I step out of the room, my chest tight with guilt. The thought of leaving her there, even for a short time, unsettles me. But I also have two little boys waiting in the neonatal ICU, and I can’t ignore my responsibility to them.I walk down the now-familiar hallway, passing glass doors and walls painted in pastel tones. The antiseptic smell envelops me once again. Upon arriving, I immediately spot the two incubators housing Oliver and Noah. The hum of machinery is constant, and despite myself, the steady beeping makes my heart race.“Hello, Mr. Hawthorne,” the nurse greets me with a warm smile. She jots something down on her clipboard and moves closer. “Your boys are doing well. Oliver spent a few minutes breathing on his own earlier, and Noah is also responding well to stimuli.”I smile, feeling a warmth spread through my chest. I approach the incubators, examining every detail of
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