"Mimi, good morning. How are you feeling?" the nurse's gentle voice asked. "Still groggy, I see. Oh, wait, let me help you. You're still numb, I guess."
I managed to open my eyes, struggling to piece together what had happened. It slowly came back. I had done it; I was now a mom of five, so freaking tiny preemies that I just couldn't believe it. It felt overwhelming, scary, and wonderful all at the same time. I opened my eyes and blinked a few times to clear my vision, but I still couldn't feel anything below my ribs, meaning the spinal or epidural was still active. The nurse lifted me slightly higher in the bed and raised the headboard so I could sit up a bit more.
"The little ones are doing fine," she said. "They're in the NICU, but there are no problems. We've given them milk and a little blood. Cute little vampires, though no fangs."
I nodded. It was already six pm. I recalled that I had informed May that I was in labor and promised to contact her as soon as it was over. I had arrived at eight am. I'd been sitting in the corridor, achy and tired, when the doctor strode quickly into her office and took me in forty-five minutes early.
She put me on a gurney and hooked me up to monitors. She had explained that she had just reviewed my weekend's results and that I had been having contractions since Saturday evening. I recalled my amazement, as well as my anger, when the doctor said Damon hadn't called her either and hadn't said anything to me, meaning he hadn't looked at my results.
The doctor had been very frank with me. "Now, we need to operate on you as soon as possible," she had said. "Those stitches in your cervix have been ripped since Saturday, and there might be a blood clot. The babies are fine, no indication of stress, but you're having decent contractions pretty fast, about one every five minutes, and it's only a matter of time before those stitches rip through your tissues as the pressure rises. Your husband really dropped the ball on this, and if this were a normal situation, I would call the police and get him charged with negligence, as this is a true medical situation."
i was quite surprised, and I understood just how dire the situation was. The doctor had called the team to the operating room, and they were more than ready. I was then whisked into the prepping room for my spinal anesthesia, which was the first step in getting the babies out.
I would give them my blood, activating their vampire side, and they would be moved to the NICU until immortality set in. After the babies were delivered and doing well, they would knock me out and most likely remove my uterus. While I could grow a new one, the damage would take time, so it was better for me to be anesthetized while they worked.
As I lay on my bed while nurses bustled around me, helping me into a more comfortable position, I was surprised to see my normal body. My belly was gone. The dark satisfaction of knowing Mariella wouldn't recover this quickly, but might have a belly for weeks, gave me a smile. Sure, I was being catty, but I had just had my five, and the real work was about to start.
I had taken some clothes with me, but I had planned to keep them swaddled most of the time, not dressing them much. This was for practical reasons, like they would need to feed more often, and it was gentler for them to be swaddled at first. I had gotten pure silk swaddles for them—maybe a little over the top—but perfect for their sensitive skin. It was all natural, soft, and perfect, only the best for my five, eh?
As usual, my instinct or need to make my own decisions was starting to surface, and I wasn't willing to let the whole damn pack come in and start giving me orders. I just hoped my body would start moving and functioning so I could see my tiny ones. However, the door opened, and my doctor walked in. She looked relieved to see me awake, and something in her expression was surprising, even to me.
She came to my bedside, took a chair, and said, "Good to see you up. Now, I know you feel fine, or at least you think you do, but let me tell you a few facts."
She took a breath and continued. The hospital smell emanating from her added a clinical feel, which I tried to push away. I didn't want to be just a patient; my need to see my babies churned inside me.
"This was far from an easy situation. Initially, the monitors displayed genuine contractions for over 24 hours, which Damon missed. In a typical scenario, I would consider this negligence and involve the authorities, given his clear culpability. However, considering your extraordinary circumstances and your medical history, I am choosing to overlook it for now. I hope you understand the potential danger this posed to you and your babies. You had a triple cerclage, meaning your cervix was sewn shut. The contractions began to pull on your cervix, and significant blood vessels are located in that area. It was dangerously close to the vessels ripping open, which would have led to a catastrophic bleed, and the babies would not have survived. When we performed the operation, we found a blood clot of 1750 ml in your uterus. It was truly a miracle that the babies were unharmed, as you had already started bleeding when the contractions began to dislodge the placentas. The babies are fine; we delivered them in time. Your womb has been removed, and you have likely already begun to grow a new one. Now, you need to rest and allow the spinal medication to clear from your system. We administered all the reserved blood, which also helped."
I nodded, beginning to realize the severity of the situation. I knew that if there was a next time, I would personally monitor my readings or have either Wulfe or Adam at home to check them. I would no longer trust Damon's judgment, as it was clearly fixated on Mariella.
This also solidified my decision: I would decide who would see or care for my babies; no one else. It would be my decision, and if I could help it, I would ensure Mariella had a horde of attentive, overbearing husbands dictating her actions. Unlike me, she wanted them, so she could have as many as she desired.
"Your babies are doing fine," the doctor said. "They are small, most weighing less than two pounds, but they will grow. I suspect they will achieve their immortality on Wednesday or maybe Thursday. Don't worry too much; that time will come later. They are breathing just fine, opening their eyes, and moving, but it takes time for them to adjust to the world. A dim, warm place with hushed sounds is best for them right now. We don't have any vaccinations to give them yet, but I suspect your milk will protect them. The nurse will bring you food soon; you need to eat and take care of yourself. Things will be demanding in the coming months, and I suggest you accept all the help you can get. A home nurse will visit once you get home, that visitation should be a little over a week from now, but we'll see when you're ready to leave."
Her expression was calm, but beneath her clinical demeanor was a genuine concern for me as a mother, and a desire to ensure I wouldn't end up in a bad situation, especially with Damon. I couldn't help but remember my first set of babies, all seventeen of them. Back then, Damon had hated me, although I had played a part in that. He had held that hatred for a long time.
It had taken us a long time to reconnect, but now, I wasn't so sure if he was ready to be "us" again. I wondered if Mariella would completely capture his attention. Despite how small my new babies were, I had ten Damon Salvatores to choose from; I wasn't just stuck with the original.
I nodded and finally said, "Damon is who he is, and this is my life. I should remember that. Despite telling him I need actions, not just words, he still manages to talk me into these situations. I hope I'll be wiser next time, if there is one. I have pure silk wrappings reserved for the babies, and I was thinking of keeping them swaddled at first, at least until they've grown a bit."
The doctor nodded, smiled, and said, "Good thinking. Silk is expensive, but it's a pure, natural material, gentle on their skin. It's probably best for them to be swaddled before they get used to clothes. Easy does it. Now, I'll leave you to eat something and recover. Once you can move and your vitals are steady, you can see your tiny ones. Have you talked about names?"
I said, "I haven't talked to them yet, but I have a plan. The boys will be Darien and Dash, and the girls will be Seraphina, Mirabella, and Sirena... or maybe Syrahbelle, I'm not sure yet. I need to think about it and meet them to decide."
She smiled, got up, and said to me, "Don't hurry, take your time. Talk it over with Wulfe or Damon, or whoever. Things will sort themselves out, I'm sure."
She then walked out of the room, leaving me sitting there, waiting, and my empty stomach was making me realize how hungry I was and how skinny I had become. I really should focus on eating and caring for my babies, but I wasn't sure who I would let in to take care of the little ones yet.
The hospital food was plentiful, at least, and it was wonderful to chew something once again, instead of just drinking my meals. Even though the food was rather saltless and very healthy, it was something. I knew I should eat more at home, but the babies would come first, and my life would be focused on them for the time being.
Wulfe, Adam, and Charles, the boys, and my daughters would be helping me, sure, but five preemies meant they might not sleep on the same schedule, and I'd likely have to hold one or several of them at a time at first. We would all be needed. The girls would have to manage the shop. Maybe Charles, if he was inclined, could help out, but then again, he might be too focused on Mariella and her triplets.
That was a frustrating part. Eight babies and twenty-five adults would give us about three adults per baby, but did I have fifteen people to help me? Nope. I would have me, Wulfe, Adam, Leopard, Demon, and the girls part-time, maybe Charles. When Mariella had ten Salvatores, herself, and maybe Charles, her girls, all for three babies... Oh, I hoped my little pheromonal layering would have done its job and Mariella's breasts would pretty much flood with milk and her instincts to care would awaken, but one could never know, could they?
As I first saw them in their incubators, they were incredibly small. Their nappies looked overly large, and their skin was quite red. They moved, blinked, and opened their bright blue eyes, trying to adjust to the world. I put my hand in and stroked my smallest ones, the twins.
I was scared, not because they might die, but because they were just so damn tiny. I wasn't sure I could care for them. But they were mine. The first time those tiny fingers curled around mine, my heart exploded with love.
I couldn't help but say to Wulfe through our connection, "Are you in a bad place? I have something to share."
He answered, "No, I am fine. What is it, unicorn?"
I told him, "Look through my eyes."
His wonderment and awe were almost a palpable force in my mind as he said, "You... you had them? Oh my god, they are so tiny! Look at those fingers! Oh, I want to skin Salvatore for persuading me to come here."
I replied, "No worries. I'm probably going to get home Thursday, once these are immortals, and then real work begins."
Wulfe answered, "I'll be home by Sunday or Monday. These negotiations are dull but kind of funny. And my bonus will be huge, but I will be taking paternity leave. No way I am working. Good of you to tell me so I can fix things up already. Have you told anyone else yet?"
I replied, "The girls know, but I've compelled them into silence. I'm about to check on Adam sometime, and the boys, too. Charles is all over Mariella's plump offspring, so I'm not sure if he is available, but I can say, sleepless nights ahead."
Wulfe's answer was full of love. "Who needs sleep anyway? Oh, once I get those into skin-to-skin contact, those fingers are so incredible."
I just smiled. I could feel him in my mind all the time as I moved to check on my boys. They were the heaviest, at 2 lb 6 oz and 2 lb 7 oz. Not so very heavy, but still, my twin girls had been 1 lb 12 oz and 1lb 14 oz, and my singleton was 2 lbs 3 oz, so they had a lot of growing to do.
I could feel my breasts aching to feed them. Oh, I should pump. I had a lot of bags with me, as well as a loadable cooler, as my powers leeched into my milk. I couldn't donate it, so I would have to just keep it.
Despite the NICU being a place of both hope and despair for some mothers, I was in such a good mood. I was experiencing a flood of emotions and sensations. I had my breast pump, a few different versions, and I'd just pumped my first batch of milk. The babies eagerly drank it, though not all of it, as I produced a large amount.
They latched onto the tiny bottles with vigor, making small grunts while still curled up. I knew I had to take plenty of pictures and video clips to show them later—to Mimosa, Shadow, Elena, and Katrine—just how tiny they were, and how wonderful it felt to hold them for the first time. It was a little funny, though.
I held my boys to my chest for skin-to-skin contact. My chest was bare, and I could feel them moving restlessly inside my shirt, which had a kind of pocket for them. Then, one of them found my breast and tried to latch, but he was too small. He started to cry when he couldn't get it. Of course, I gave him a bottle.
I wasn't sure how long it would take for them to grow enough to nurse directly, and I wondered if I'd even have milk by then, or if my "dairy farm" would cease production. These were wonderful problems to ponder, and time flew by as I held at least two of them in my arms. Eventually, the evening came, and the staff put them to sleep. I'd given the staff plenty of milk for overnight feedings. Now, I should go to my room and sleep for one more night, while I still could.