Dempeo One Shots

Sandcastles

"Mrs. Pompeo, Mr. Dempsey, I will be right back. I'm going to get the head OB," a nurse tells Ellen and Patrick. Ellen looks up at Patrick, a concerned look on her face.

"What if somethings wrong...?" Ellen asks her husband. He tilts his head and gives her a small smile.

"Nothing is wrong, okay?" Patrick assures her.

"You don't know that," Ellen whispers, mad. Patrick pushes her hair back and kisses her forehead. They're interrupted by the doctor walking in. 

"Ellen, Patrick, it's nice to see you again!" The OB tells them, a smile hung on her face. "Your measurements look good for 26 weeks. Everything looks nice, now lets just take a look." She puts the paper file down and starts putting cold gel on Ellen's belly. Patrick stands beside Ellen, holding her hand as the ultrasound starts. It's quiet in the time the doctor is looking at the machine, then she starts wiping off the gel.

"I would like to have an appointment tomorrow, so that way we can talk, but I am fully booked today. There is just some things I would like to discuss."

"Is everything all right?" Patrick asks the doctor softly. Ellen looks between her husband and the doctor.

"I'm sure everything is fine, but I would like to make sure of that, so I will be making some phone calls and looking further into your ultrasound pictures." The doctor smiles before walking to the door. "I'll see you tomorrow!" She says before leaving.

Ellen sits up, puts her shirt down, and stares at Patrick as they just sit there. Patrick takes a deep breath in before speaking.

"How about we go get an appointment for tomorrow, get some food, and then go home?" He suggests. Ellen gives him a smirk before getting off the exam table. They walk out of the room hand in hand.

*x*

Ellen sits in the passenger seat, her right hand resting on her belly. Patrick sits in the driver seat, his right hand on Ellen's thigh, his left on the steering wheel.

"Are you ready?" Patrick asks his anxious wife. She looks over at him, and back at the hospital.

"About as ready as I can get," she tells him. He gives her thigh a small squeeze before getting out of the car. They meet each other in front of the car, grabbing onto each others hands.

When they get up to the OB floor, Ellen's hand is sweating in her husbands. "Pompeo," Ellen tells the receptionist. She smiles and tells them to have a seat.

When the doctor calls them back, Ellen hesitates before getting up. Her and Patrick both go back to the doctors office. They sit down opposite of the doctor.

"Good morning, Mrs. Pompeo, Mr. Dempsey." The doctor sticks her hand out and smiles. Ellen and Patrick say good morning and shake her hand. "So, I found something a little concerning in your ultrasound." Ellen stiffens in her chair. Patrick puts his hand on her back. "I talked to Dr. William Henry. He's a Neonatal surgeon in New York City-"

"Why do we need a neonatal surgeon?" Ellen interrupts. Patrick looks at his wife and back at the doctor.

"Well.... you don't. I'm the only OB here, I wanted to be sure what I was seeing was true." The doctor pauses a minute before speaking again. "While your measurements are regular for 26 weeks, your baby's is not. The last time you had a check up- 8 weeks ago- your ultrasound wasn't as concerning. Now, it's more concerning, Mrs. Pompeo." The doctor pauses for a second. Ellen stares at the doctor, shock painted on her face. "Your baby isn't growing."

"Which means what, exactly?" Patrick asks, shifting in his seat a little.

"Mrs. Pompeo-"

"Call me Ellen, please," Ellen interrupts, suddenly trying to avoid being told what's wrong.

"Ellen.... When was the last time you felt the baby kick?" Ellen's left hand falls to her belly as she realizes what the doctor is saying. Her breath hitches as her right hand is held by Patrick's. He looks down, sadness plastered on his face.

"Dr. Henry said that it may have been this way for 5 to 6 weeks. It was a girl." The doctor hands them a paper with information on it. "I'll leave you two for a minute."

Patrick moves to the floor in front of Ellen. She looks down at him and lets tears fall down her red cheeks.

"It's not your fault," Patrick whispers. Ellen puts her right hand on Patrick's shoulder. She looks at him, her lips curving into a little smirk. 

"I'm 37 years old. I didn't think we were going to get pregnant at first, and then, one night I looked on the stick, and there was those two stupid lines." Patrick smiles at the memory. "It all became so much more real when she first started kicking. The little flutters to the small pains in my back." Ellen quits talking for a second, letting Patrick wipe away her tears. "How come I didn't notice?" Ellen asks, her lip quivering, and fresh, hot tears coming out of her ducts. "I mean what kind of mother doesn't notice their own daughter kicking?" 

Ellen starts to become hysterical- Patrick wrapping his arms around her. Her breathing becomes shallow as she cries more and more. 

"Hey, sweetie, breathe," Patrick whispers in her ear. Ellen takes a short deep breath in. "Hey you can do better. I know you, El. You got this. Breathe," Patrick tells her softly. Her breathing starts to become more even after a minute or so. Patrick breaks loose of the tight hug, and looks his wife in the eyes. "It wasn't your fault," Patrick tells her again. 

"I know," Ellen replies, whispering. "We would have had a daughter," she tells him. She laughs, no apparent reason. Patrick gives her sympathetic look as she falls into a new round of hysterical tears. 

God can only give us so much love and pain. Sometimes we don't get the same amount of each. 

Because one day, that love will turn into pain. And there will undoubtfully be more pain, than there ever was of love.