FicWad

It happens on Tuesday. It is early spring. Amber is eight months pregnant. She waddles when she walks and her stomach takes up about half her body. Already I can tell this is taking its toll. Her breathing is always labored. She can’t stand for very long. Sometimes she even has to stop half way to the bathroom to regain her breath.

It happens in the morning. I wake up first and start on breakfast. Amber has to eat a lot of vegetables. She goes through them so quickly. I’ve never seen her eat so much. I hear the curtain move behind me. I turn around to smile at my beautiful fiancée.

“How are you feeling?” I ask.

“I feel okay,” she assures me. She answers this way every day. “I just have to pee like no one’s business.”

Amber clamors out of bed and heads towards the bathroom. She is wearing sweatpants and a shirt that has gotten too small. It pops up and exposes half of her stomach. It’s the cutest thing I’ve ever seen. Although I live in constant fear I never get over how amazing it is that she is carrying my son in her body.

Amber disappears into the bathroom as I put the pan the back burner. Then I go back to the living room, beginning to strum my guitar. It is the only thing I can do to keep my mind off things. The bathroom door opens and Amber waddles back into the living room.

“Frank?” Amber breaths out; I look up at her.

“Yeah?” I answer.

“I can’t… breathe,” she says.

Then her monitor goes off, beeping frantically, letting me know her heart isn’t right, that her breathing isn’t right. I jump off the couch and reach her just before she hits the floor.

I wrap my arms around her and let her down gently. She is limp. Her eyes are closed. She isn’t breathing.

“Amber” I say, grasping her hand. “Amber, don’t do this to me. C’mon. Please?”

The wrist monitor keeps beeping and finally the noise changes. The noise change means it has alerted an ambulance. The phone rings a moment later and I scramble to it.

“Hello?”

“Mr. Iero, we received the alert that your fiancée’s monitor has reached dangerous levels,” the voice tells me. I bring the phone back to Amber.

“She collapsed. She isn’t breathing.”

“We have an ambulance en route.”

“I don’t know what to do. What should I do?”

I am panicking. My breathing has become erratic. Don’t do this to me, Amber. Please? We are so close.

“Her monitor says her heart is still beating but that she’s not breathing?”

“Accurate,” I answer.

“Check her pulse.”

I pull up her wrist like her doctor told me, “I don’t feel anything.”

“The monitor says it’s very low. I need you to give her mouth to mouth. Can you do that for me?”

“Yes. Is the baby’s heart beating?”

“Yes. Are you trained in CPR?”

“And certified,” I confirm, a little relieved to know the baby is still alright.

“Okay, give her fifteen reps.”

“She’s pregnant.”

“I know. Stay right above her stomach.”

“Okay, I’m putting the phone down.”

I set the phone down by Amber’s head. Then I tilt her head back. I had to be CPR certified to be Amber’s caretaker. I’d taken the classes a while back. I’d hoped I wouldn’t have to use the skills I’d obtained. I do. After a minute I hear the operating calling my name. I pick the phone back up.

“She’s still not breathing,” I tell her.

“The paramedics are almost there. Go let them in, okay?”

I don’t know what to do. Letting them in doesn’t seem like enough. I rush to the door; the paramedics rush right past me. I stand still watching them work on Amber. They don’t say anything to me. They don’t ask for help. They don’t even acknowledge me. They just hook Amber up and move her onto a gurney.

“I’m coming with you,” I tell the paramedics as they pass me. They just nod. I slip my feet into the shoes closest to me and then follow after them.

Note: The next few chapters will be from Fran's POV. I'm doing this cause I don't want to leave out vital parts of the story and as you all probably figured out Amber's POV won't really be that interesting.