Seven's the Charm

Prologue

"Ok, Missus O'Connor, take a deep breath." Pain sliced through my abdomen and I sucked in a deep breath through the mask in my hand. Ah, that's better. 

“Don't pat me. I'm not a bloody dog.” I panted, scowling when he laughed and another horrible stabbing pain gripped me. It subsided a few agonising moments later and my eyes met Ben's gentle ones.

“It's ok. You'll be fine. Almost there.” I looked up and let my head flop back onto the pillow, watching as we moved through the double doors that were sign-posted Theatre 2.

Three contractions later -during all of which I squeezed Ben's hand until he winced- a pair of friendly faces appeared whilst a bunch of nurses and doctors set me up and, finally, injected me with something to stop the contractions hurting so damn bad. I took deep breaths and watched Tyra's lips move. Is she speaking to me? I checked in just as she finished saying how they would be setting up the spinal and slicing me open as long as I didn't feel the pinch. "What pinch?" Tyra laughed at my confused expression, shoving a cardboard bowl by my head just in time as my stomach heaved. “Jesus Christ...” my voice was raspy and low as I whimpered and clenched my eyes shut.

“All right, I'm going to leave Jess here with you whilst I get the spinal sorted. How're you feeling, Bella?” Tyra's familiar face was somewhat soothing amidst the stress and panic of the past hour, so I nodded and managed a weak smile.

“Um, certain that there is no way I'll be having another baby after this?” She laughed and moved out of sight, snapping the mouth thing over her mouth again as Jess patiently helped Ben heave me upright; I whined, moaned, cursed and wailed as a contraction hit mid move. You're probably completely confused right about now, so I'll explain a bit.

I'm Bella O'Connor, eighteen years old, in labour with quadruplets. Yep, four babies. Multiples run in my family apparently, although as far as we know I'm the first to have quads. I'm petrified, as you can imagine, and the only people in this whole room that I know are Tyra, my doctor since I found out about the quads and had to lose my last OB/GYN, Jess, the nurse that's been taking my measurements and looking after me during my many visits to the hospital and doctor during the pregnancy, and Ben, another nurse here at Eastbourne hospital. The babies' father is working in Liverpool this week, and he isn't likely to be back until tomorrow evening at least. Harrison is my husband, we've been married for three months now and dating since we were fourteen years old. I'm thirty two weeks pregnant exactly, and making it to the thirty week mark is really good with quads, or so I'm told.

“All righty, Bella, I'd say you're about to feel some pain, but I'm guessing that statement's pretty null and void right now, huh?” I winced and squeezed Ben's hand, trying to distract myself by looking around. The room was full of people moving around between stations. I recognised quite a few of them from my numerous stays in the hospital. Within minutes I was laying back on the bed, a sheet was rigged up over my chest and Jess was sitting by my head holding my hand. “Can you feel this?”

I waited a few seconds, frowning at Jess; she giggled. “No, I don't think she felt it, Tyra.”

“Good! That's good.” It was all a bit of a whirlwind after that. The noise in the room settled at a low rumble as I grimaced at the tugging sensation in my stomach. I suddenly realised that this was it. Within the hour my babies would be here. I'd be able to actually see them for the first time. See their little faces. Count their fingers and toes. Put faces and genders to the tiny bodies I could feel moving around inside me.

“Um, Bells?”

“Mm?” I hummed and tipped my head towards Ben, feeling more than a little woozy. The painkillers had me in their tight grip and for now, I couldn't be more grateful. He was grinning widely, and suddenly a quiet wail made my limited brain function snap away from him and somewhere further down my body, although the sheet was stopping me from seeing.