Never Knew We Needed You

10

Mark and I are eating dinner when my phone rings. It's Wyatt. I smile and pick it up.
"Hey Wyatt, what's up?"
"First off, congratulations! She's coming tomorrow, right?"
"Should be, yeah!"
"Awesome. Listen, something's happened..."
My heartbeat picks up. What happened?
"Yeah..what's wrong? I'm kind of freaked out now..."
"Mom and Dad's house caught on fire, we're sure how it happened now....Paige, it's arson."
I cover my mouth with my hand and close my eyes. I let out a shaky breath with tears choking my throat. Don't panic, don't panic, it's been months since the last attack..
"Are they okay?" I ask.
"They got out, don't worry, they're alive. But, Paige, Mom is blind now, and they had to amputate Dad's arm..."
I start crying. I gasp a bit, making Mark grab my arm. Tears run down my face.
"That's why the police think it was arson, the fire started in the staircase and the front door was smashed open."
My hand holding the phone starts to shake. I can't stop now. My heartbeat reaches my temples and I begin hyperventilating. Just before I grab at my ears, Mark takes the phone. Wyatt is almost yelling, my whole family knows about my condition.

"Wyatt! Hi! It's Mark, what's happening?"
"Mark! Put the phone down and try to calm her down!"
Mark practically throws my phone across the room as he starts stroking my back, and whispering soothing things in my ears. For most people, panic attacks are just a social anxiety thing that take a few minutes alone to get over. For me, it depends on the situation. When I met Mark, that was what a panic attack usually is for people. Finding out that my mother is blind and my father is an amputee and that their house, my childhood home, is burned down because of arson, I've never hit this level before...I don't know what's going to happen. Just as I feel myself getting just the slightest bit calmer, the muscles in my abdomen start clenching and unclenching.

"Mark.." I mutter, grasping for his hand, which he takes immediately.
"Mark, it's happening," I then shout. Wyatt has hung up, I see a text saying that he's calling in ten minutes.
"Paige are you okay?! What's happening?!" He demands, grabbing my face. My breathing goes back to my chest, and my mind clears. It's replaced with insane pain that makes me cry out.
"Call the doctor! I'm in labor!" I yell.

Mark rushes me out to the car. My mind is swirling. My parents, my home, my baby. Right now I need to focus on one thing, and that's our daughter. Mark is steering the car with one hand, while the other alternates from stroking my hair and stomach. I just try to breathe, and not panic again. My hormones combined with the stress and fear from that situation led up to a severe medical response. My pediatrician and counselor growing up have warned me about this, because of my condition. I just never thought that it would actually happen to me.
We pull into the hospital, and Mark helps me climb out. We practically run inside, where my nurse is ready to take me to our room.

When I'm in my robe, and strapped gently to the table, Mark dashes over to my side, and grabs my hand. He was busy putting down information and telling the staff what had just happened.
Ok this isn't how babies work I know that much, but what I'm about to say, just know that I know that this would most likely never happen.
The doctor comes in and explains what's happened.
"Paige, due to your condition, the stress caused you to begin labor early. I'm very sorry, but you'll be in for a long ride before your daughter shows up. We might have to perform a c-section. The team is preparing that surgery, but we're hoping for natural, maybe even forceps. We'll make 100% sure you have painkiller. I'm so sorry this is going to be rough."
I'm fighting tears, simply from pain. My parents are just this raw pain, a knife slowly cutting into my convulsing middle leaving a scar along with a thousand emotional wounds that will never heal.

I've been lying down for about three hours, fighting back yelps of pain. Instead, tears are trickling down my cheeks silently, while I sigh in anguish. Mark has stayed by my side. He himself is holding back tears.
"You're going to be okay, I promise. The doctor will be here with your painkiller. I talked to him after he left about that. They always say they'll give it, but it almost never happens. You're going to be okay Paige, I promise."

In this moment, I realize a lot of things. I never imagined any of this. For a fleeting moment, I wonder if it's worth it. I shove it out quickly with this thought I share with Mark.

"Mark, look at me, please," I gasp out.

His eyes meet mine, I tilt my head to the side of the pillow where his nose is inches away from mine.
"Mark, this whole life I have now, I never knew this would happen. I never knew that I wanted it. I never imagined falling in love with you, never imagined letting you take me home," here I pause, letting my words sink in, let him drink them up.
"Never imagined carrying your child..." I whisper. He strokes my hair, and I can't hold back this groan of pain. My abdomen has been twitching and buckling this whole time, but it's getting worse.

"Paige, I feel the same way. I love you, all of this is worth it, I swear, it's worth it to me. It wasn't until recently."
He drops his gaze. He actually feels bad..
"It was when I was buying your ring. I thought for a split second, why am I doing this? I didn't ignore the thought. This wasn't part of my plan. But I love you, I want you. I've wanted you for a long time."
He finds my eyes again and says, with all the love and pain we both in this moment, "I love you, so much. You can want someone so badly, and plan on wanting them. You can never plan on needing someone, and I sure as hell never planned on needing you. But I swear if you ever leave, I'll never forget you. Ever. You don't forget the ones you'd die for."

He rests his forehead against mine. Tears are running down his face as well. We stay silent, I know if I try to speak it will come out all wrong. I'll tell him later, once I'm on the other side of the hell that has consumed my reality. Tell him that I need him too. Beg him not to let me leave.