Orchards and Moonlight - a Mialotte story (TNN)

I am tired of hospitals

Autumn's day had started just like any other. The summer sun streamed through the windows, casting warm patterns on the walls as she rested on the couch, a book in hand. She had been on bed rest for the past few weeks, much to her dismay, but she had been diligently following the doctor's orders. With only two weeks left in her pregnancy, she was determined to do everything right this time.

The house was quiet, almost too quiet, and the usual sounds of life felt distant without Winter around. He had left for work early that morning, promising to be back soon to check on her, but Autumn didn't mind the solitude. It gave her time to think, to prepare herself mentally for the arrival of their baby boy. Despite the miscarriage she had suffered before, she was determined to stay positive, though deep down, a small part of her couldn't help but worry.

As the morning wore on, Autumn began to notice a dull, rhythmic pressure in her lower abdomen. At first, she dismissed it as just another pregnancy ache. After all, she was nearly full-term, and discomfort had become a regular part of her life. But as the pressure grew more intense and more regular, a cold wave of realization washed over her.

These weren't ordinary aches—these were contractions.

Autumn's heart began to race as the realization took hold. She had read enough to know that this was happening, and it was happening fast. Winter wasn't home, and the panic that had been lurking in the back of her mind suddenly surged forward, threatening to overwhelm her.

Grabbing her phone with shaky hands, Autumn quickly dialled Winter's number. Her breaths were short and ragged as she waited for him to pick up, each second feeling like an eternity.

"Autumn? What's wrong?" Winter's voice came through the line, a mix of concern and urgency.

"It's happening, Winter," Autumn said, her voice trembling. "The baby's coming. The contractions are close. You need to come home—now."

There was a brief pause on the other end, followed by the sound of Winter scrambling to gather his things. "I'm on my way," he said, his voice firm but laced with fear. "Just hang in there, Autumn. I'll be there as fast as I can. If it gets too bad, call an ambulance, okay?"

Autumn nodded, even though he couldn't see her. "Just hurry, please. I don't know how long I can hold on."

As she ended the call, another contraction ripped through her, stronger and more painful than the last. Autumn gripped the edge of the couch, breathing deeply to try to stay calm, but the fear was growing, spreading through her like wildfire. She had been so careful, so determined to make it to full term, and now it was all happening too fast.

By the time Winter burst through the door, the contractions were coming almost on top of each other. His face, usually so calm and composed, was etched with worry as he rushed to her side. "Autumn, I'm here," he said, kneeling beside her and taking her hand. "I'm here. We're going to get through this."

Autumn looked into his eyes, drawing strength from his presence, but the pain was nearly unbearable. "I called the hospital," she managed to say through gritted teeth. "They're sending an ambulance, but I don't know if I can wait that long."

Winter's heart pounded in his chest, but he forced himself to stay calm for Autumn's sake. "You're doing great, just breathe. The ambulance will be here soon."

The minutes stretched on, each one feeling longer than the last, until finally, the wail of sirens broke through the silence. The paramedics arrived and quickly assessed the situation, their expressions calm but urgent as they worked to get Autumn onto the stretcher.

Winter stayed by her side, his hand never leaving hers as they rushed her out to the ambulance. His mind was a whirl of emotions—fear, hope, and the desperate need to see his wife and child safe. He kept whispering words of encouragement, though he wasn't sure if Autumn could hear him over the pain.

At the hospital, they were met with a flurry of activity. The medical team moved swiftly, getting Autumn settled in the delivery room as Winter tried to keep his own emotions in check. He had always prided himself on being the calm one, the steady presence in any storm, but seeing Autumn in so much pain was almost more than he could bear.

The contractions were relentless, each one drawing Autumn closer to the moment she both dreaded and longed for. Winter held her hand, his voice steady as he whispered in her ear, but the fear in his eyes was unmistakable. They had come so far, been through so much, and now it all came down to these final moments.

"Winter," Autumn gasped between contractions, her face pale and drenched in sweat. "I'm scared. What if something goes wrong?"

"Nothing's going to go wrong," Winter said, though his own heart was pounding with fear. "We've come too far for that. You're strong, Autumn. You can do this."

But as the baby began to crown, the atmosphere in the room changed. The doctor's calm demeanour grew more intense, and the nurses exchanged quick, concerned glances. Winter felt a cold chill of dread settles in his stomach.

"Something's wrong," Autumn whispered, her voice shaking. "Why isn't he crying? Why can't I hear him?"

The doctor's expression was serious but focused. "The umbilical cord is wrapped around his neck. We need to move quickly."

Panic surged through Autumn, her breaths coming in short, desperate gasps. "No, no, please... save him! Please save my baby!"

Winter felt his own panic rising, but he forced it down, knowing he had to be strong for Autumn. He leaned in close, his voice steady but filled with emotion. "Autumn, look at me. Look at me. They're going to take care of him, okay? Just focus on me. I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere."

Autumn's eyes locked onto Winter's, tears streaming down her face as she clung to his hand, her knuckles white with the force of her grip. "Don't leave me, Winter. Please don't leave me."

"I'm not leaving you," Winter promised, his voice thick with emotion. "I'm right here. Just keep breathing. We're going to get through this."

The medical team worked with a calm urgency, their hands moving swiftly to untangle the cord from the baby's neck. The seconds stretched into what felt like hours as Autumn strained to hear any sign of life, her mind a whirlwind of fear and desperation.

"Please. please save my baby." She says before passing out.