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Getting away for a bit sounds like the best possible thing to do right now.
I look around the baby's room though and think about how much we still have to do before the little one arrives.
"I have an ultrasound next week." I say, "Do you think we should still not know the gender of the baby?"
"I like the idea of being surprised. Because either way it's going to be amazing." He smiles at me and his entire being feels like home to me.
I stand up and walk over to him, wrapping my arms around his waist, and holding him against me, but my giant baby bump is in the way, and I can't get a good enough hug. I sigh in frustration, and he laughs at me. Lennox turns me around so that my back is against his chest. He leans over me, wrapping his arms around my tummy, his hands on my belly. He nuzzles into my neck and kisses my skin, sending shivers down my spine. I lean into him, feeling warm and safe in his arms.
We stand like that for a moment and then Lennox shouts with excitement.
"I feel kicking. I feel the baby kicking." I laugh at his pure, unrestrained excitement. It's not the first time he has felt the little kicks, but he reacts this way every single time.
After a while the little one calms down and stops wiggling.
"I think it's time for some lunch," I say, feeling how hungry I am.
"Yes. Let's get you and the little one some food."
"No, don't be silly. You carry on here and I will make us something."
Lennox looks into my eyes. "You look so tired, Em. Let's just order something then."
"Nonsense." I waved his concern away. "Every woman is tired during pregnancy. I will make us something. I am not completely useless you know."
I can see he is not happy, but he lets me go.
In the kitchen, I look through the fridge to see what catches my eye. I never know what I want until I see it, which is funny. I was never a fussy eater before my pregnancy, but now I am so picky and have the weirdest cravings.
I find a bowl of leftover bacon and mushroom pasta and decide it will make a great lunch if I whip up a little salad to go with it.
Suddenly the kitchen starts spinning. I reach out to try and grab the counter, but I can hardly move.
"Len…" I try and call out for him, but I can't catch my breath. My stomach cramps in the most painful way and the glass bowl slips from my fingers, crashing to the ground. I try and call out again, but again the words are stuck in my throat. The last thing I remember is falling to the ground, worried that I would land on broken glass, but landing safely in Lennox's arms as he shouts my name. His blue eyes catch mine just before the heavy darkness takes over.
I feel myself waking up. A familiar smell that is not home invades my nostrils. I blink open my eyes and things slowly come into focus.
I am lying in a hospital bed. I hear Lennox's voice outside my private room.
"What do you mean we almost lost her? What is going on?"
The quiet voice of someone else gives a muffled reply that I cannot make out. The soft beep of my heart monitor fills the room.
"I don't care what it takes. You need to make sure she is ok." There is panic in his voice, and I start to panic a little myself. What happened? Why am I here? I remember being in the kitchen.
I feel tears of worry pressing against my eyelids and try to blink them away.
When I speak my voice comes out in a dry whisper. "Lennox."
The sound is barely audible, but Lennox hears me straight away and comes rushing into the room.
"Emma, oh thank goodness. Emma, how are you feeling? Are you ok? Oh, my fuck. You scared me, Emma."
His hand is on my cheek; he touches my forehead which is damp with perspiration. He leans down and very gently kisses my lips.
"Baby, are you ok? Sweetheart?"
I try and speak again but my voice feels heavy.
