You can supply love in the same way you demand it. There can be too much, or not enough. Yet, when it meets in the perfect middle - the equilibrium - there's nothing more fulfilling.
Amelia Claxton is the epitome of a perfect student. Top of her cl...
TW: talks of anxiety surrounding pregnancy issues, depression, panic attack and mild negative self-talk. if you would like a summary, please let me know. i also want to preface that i am not a doctor and the medical discussions in this chapter stems from my basic research.
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AMELIA CLAXTON FEBRUARY 3RD, 2022
As soon as I woke up in the hospital Monday, the doctor explained everything that had happened. Since Harry had told them that my primary care was with Dr. Lee, they had phoned her in during it all to keep her updated with my condition. She was in agreement with the hospital's doctor that I needed to head back to the City only by car because a flight could be high risk. Her main concern was that as soon as we got back to the City, I go in for an appointment.
Harry rented a car on Tuesday morning which was probably the most comical thing to happen to us all week. With it being so last minute, they had put us in a mini-van. For a man who drives a luxury car on a regular basis, seeing him behind the wheel of a soccer mom car when he pulled up to the front of the hospital had me laughing so hard.
Our ride back to New York consisted of blaring eighties and nineties music. Harry's rendition of I Wanna Dance With Somebody was a clear sign that the more you laugh during the third trimester, the more likely you'll have to pee. Thus, we made plenty of rest stops for Harry to walk with me slowly into sketchy gas stations to use the restroom. It was hard enough to make him wait outside the bathroom because he felt the need to watch over me. I know he was trying to take care of me but I was ordered to be careful and avoid risks, not on my deathbed. I can't help but love him though.
Late Tuesday night, the skyscrapers of Manhattan were in view and before we knew it, Harry had pulled into our parking garage. The sight of the rented minivan next to the black Range Rover was a sight to behold honestly.
As soon as we got into our apartment, Harry helped me up the stairs one at a time. I was itching for a shower after being in the hospital for the last few days. The best I got there was a dish of water and a washcloth. Plus, the smell of a hospital seemed to be deep in my skin. Washing my hair and body twice didn't even seem to make me feel clean enough.
Now, it's Thursday. I had spent all day yesterday on our couch in the living room with Harry right beside me. I think he was—is shook up from the past few days. He could barely explain what it was like for him while I was out. The moment I had asked where I was, he didn't waste a breath explaining himself. He had called doctors to rush in at that very moment.
I had spent all day Monday being poked and prodded for blood tests. After having my cervix checked for what seemed like the hundredth time, it was finally declared that the bleeding had stopped. Still, there was always the risk that it could happen again so I needed to be as careful as possible.
I think that risk alone has made Harry be so on edge the last few days. In a way it makes me love him even more, the way he is so attentive to me and making sure to be there for anything I may need. In another way though, his hovering has me agitated. It's as if I can't do a single thing for myself and I find it turning me into a rather unpleasant human being.
