The Mafia and Its Angel (Under Editing)

(24) The calm and then the storm

(1st edit: 12.19.18)

A few months have gone by in a blast. I'm eight and a half months pregnant and I feel ready to pop but the doctor said that I still have another three weeks left so I'm not worried. I've been laying in this hospital bed for two months now and I hate it. My bum is always numb and all my joints and muscles scream at me for not moving them in so long.

Thomas is being really good to me and so is the rest of my family. They've gotten used to me being a high risk pregnant lady and have stopped treating me like a fragile flower. To be honest I kind of miss the special attention but I cant complain when all they've been is supportive and kind and caring.

Thomas has been staying with me a lot more these days since my dad has temporarily taken over the company to give Thomas more time with me. I couldn't be happier at this moment. Wait...no. That's a lie. What could make this moment even better is for our little bundles of joy to already be here and in our arms.

I can feel them moving around a lot but as the weeks got closer to my due date I feel less movement. The doctor says that's normal because of the confined space getting even smaller for them to move around in. Still Thomas and I try to make them kick and show that they're still okay in there.

Thomas is currently sleeping in the cot beside my bed. He refuses to sleep in bed with me in fear of hurting me and our babies. In all honesty it's very sweet but also oh so aggravating. The nurse walks in and hands me my tray of breakfast and leaves with a smile as she puts a new hot blanket over Thomas as he sleeps. I smile and thank her then dive into my hospital food.

I start to groan in pain from cramps. God I guess I'm really hungry. I try to eat fast to get the pain to subside as fast as possible but all I feel is nauseous and end up wobbling to the bathroom all by myself, I'll have to give myself a pat on the back later for that, and emptying my stomach into the toilet bowl.

As I'm hugging the toilet bowl I feel a warm hand rub soothing circles on my back. 

"Morning sickness again?" 

The voice only belonging to Thomas asks and I shrug. 

"I guess." 

I say and sit back away from the now messy toilet. Thomas sits beside me after grabbing two towels and wetting them.

He then places a cold one on the back of my neck making me moan in relief. I feel like I'm in a bloody volcano. With the other towel, which is warm, he wipes my mouth. We sit like that for a bit till a nurse comes into my room looking for us. Looking around she finally sees us sitting on the floor of the washroom.

"Oh my goodness! Are you alright? Did she fall?!" 

She runs up to us and assesses my condition. After finding no evidence of me being hurt she looks at us expectantly with confusion written all over her face. 

"Amelia had a bit of morning sickness. Don't worry. It's not the first time." 

Thomas says and the nurse helps him clean me up and place me back into the bed. The nurse leaves and Thomas looks at me in wonder. I look over at him and shrink back. 

"What?" 

I ask shyly. He smiles. 

"Oh nothing. You're just so beautiful carrying our babies and being strong for them and me." 

He says sweetly and I start laughing.

"I'm not strong. I just spent the last fifteen minutes puking up my guts. How is that being strong?" 

I ask and shake my head. Thomas smiles softly and comes to hold my hand in his. 

"You are strong because you are carrying our two babies while they grow inside you while knowing that you are a high risk pregnancy. Yet you are still going through with it regardless. That takes a lot of strength my love."