Who: Archie & Isobel MacMillan
What: Due dates and complications
Where: The manor
When: Yesterday
Pillow perfectly placed behind her head and hands folded primly under her chest at the top of the large swell of her stomach, Izzie looked to be in content compliance of her healer’s recommended bed rest. While this pregnancy had most definitely been the calmest of her three, she had been having slight dizzy spells when the baby stretched and pressed up against her rib cage and causing her to be short of breath. That wasn’t a very good combination when she already had two children running around, so here she was, in bed. On bed rest and becoming increasingly bored out of her mind.
Though this morning, instead of her usual desire to literally roll out of bed and hide out in one of the various rooms before her husband found her and ushered her back under the covers, Izzie found herself feeling weak. Pregnancy did tend to take a lot of energy, but this was a feeling that worried her, especially with the restless night she’d had. Even the
baby, who slept so often she sometimes had to give herself a little shake to make sure he or she was still in there, was kicking up a storm. The familiar pains of labor were not at all present, and that caused Izzie to worry.
She pressed her hands into the mattress and at the same time pushed herself up and swung her legs off the mattress. Izzie thought the change of positions would wake her up, but instead a great wave of nausea overcame her. She put a hand to her chest as she let out a moan; bloody hell, she couldn’t be
sick. Not when she was due to have this baby in just day’s time!
Archie had been awake for a considerable while, bustling about the manor as was his weekend custom. Early to bed, early to rise did, after all, make a wizard healthy, wealthy, and wise. And he was, he had to chuckle, all of the above. It was never long before his early-rising Ernie also awoke, and they always spent an enjoyably early morning together, in a father-son type fashion.
This morning, Olive had also woken abnormally early, and had been particularly fussy.
After his usual methods of soothing had no effect on her, and she could not be coaxed back to sleep, Archie picked her up and rocked her slightly as he lapped the playroom. In the middle of the neat, orderly room, Ernie sat cross-legged in a sea of brightly coloured blocks, staring at them with his fair brow wrinkled in confusion. No doubt envisioning the greatest civilisation to ever be built out of primary colours, he paid no attention to the disturbance of his father and little sister. Knowing Ernie would sooner wreck his grand oeuvre than willingly find trouble, Archie eased out of the playroom with the cranky Olive snuggled firmly under his chin.
They strode up and down hallways and stairs, as Archie aimed to work his way back to their bedroom and check on Izzie—see if she had woken, if she needed anything, and perhaps tempt her with the idea of breakfast in bed, so he had the added benefit of ensuring she stayed right where she was. He considered underhandedly ushering the children into the bed with her, so she had no reason to get up, but thought he'd wait to see how amenable a mood she would be in.
His pleasure at seeing she was up was shadowed by the exasperation that she was sitting up, just to
stretch, she would undoubtedly complain. Then he felt only worry when he heard her make an unhappy sound.
"Isobel?" Archie asked, walking to her and dropping down to his knees, mindful of Olive. "Are you all right?"
His timing was perfect, as it always was. Izzie winced and shook her head at his question. If it wasn’t so close to her due date, she would have feigned something silly like gas or trying out some late-term yoga positions to ease the pain in her back. With their child so close to being here, however, she couldn’t take that chance. Nausea was not a normal symptom this late in the pregnancy, and Izzie put out a hand to rest it on Archie’s shoulder as the room continued to spin around her. Olive reached out to her, but Izzie shook her head.
“I feel ill,” she said. Admitting that out loud seemed to be a trigger of sorts, because she could almost feel herself go green with sickness. Izzie shut her eyes tightly, taking in a few deep breaths through her nose. Her head stopped spinning, but she still felt uneasy and ready to get sick. “I don’t think it’s labor.”
She pressed her lips together, forcing herself to not get riled up. Pregnant women were allowed to get sick, it
did happen. Immune systems were affected, more rest and fluids were to be had, but...even though Olive’s birth had gone quite smoothly, Izzie could never forget the fear she’d endured with Ernie. With
Archie. What if it got worse? What if it wasn’t
just a fever, what if the healers had missed something during all her appointments? What if it
was the pregnancy and there was something wrong with the baby?
She couldn’t think like that, but she couldn’t help thinking that way. Izzie blinked furiously, still feeling nauseous and unsteady.
“What if something’s wrong?” she managed, her lips twisting in concern.
"What if it's not?" he said, though his heart clenched in panic at the thought. Olive tucked firmly against him was a good reminder that their children hadn't had the easiest time coming into the world, in one way or another.
After ensuring Izzie could stay upright herself for a moment, he walked Olive to the crib they kept in their room and laid her in it after a kiss on her head. He knelt on the floor again in front of his wife, taking her hands in one of his. She did feel warm to him, and her eyes were slightly glazed, which he didn't feel good about. Flicking his sleeve up, he raised his forearm to her forehead and tried to approximate her temperature, which he thought might be too warm for comfort.
But Archie couldn't, wouldn't believe that a pregnancy Izzie had, the Healers had, deemed smooth sailing might suddenly go awry.
Rubbing her arms slightly with his hands, Archie said, "Why don't we go to St Mungo's now, just to be cautious?" If he'd had his way, and he knew he never would, they would have been there a week ago. But if they went now, the Healers could watch her before she went into labour, they could make sure the cold, or whatever other illness she'd contracted, wouldn't hurt her or their baby. "A day won't hurt."
Izzie sniffled, simply hearing ‘St. Mungo’s’ causing a few tears to spill from her eyes. Right, right, everything would be fine. She nodded down at Archie, feeling doubly tired now that she had put this worry on her husband’s shoulders. Archie was good at fretting enough for a decade’s worth of worrisome times, and though sometimes her behavior at his concerning ways might seem petulant, Isobel truly hated being the cause of any sort of anxiety to her husband. She’d done enough of that before they were married, and he’d certainly gone through more than enough frightful events to deserve
someone attempting to keep his world at a peace and calm.
She had to keep her ‘what ifs’ to herself and internally subdued. Nothing could be worse for a woman heavily pregnant with a MacMillan baby than getting nervous and riled up over what could be nothing. It could be nothing, Izzie kept repeating to herself. She pushed her hand through Archie’s hair, her heart beating a little less frantically because of his presence.
“You’re a very good politician,” she said with a small smile, even though it was still a bit hard to keep her eyes dry. That she could blame on the hormones, and her hand went to his cheek, “What would I do without you and your convincing words?”
He gave her a small smile back, wiping the few stray tears off her burning cheek with his thumb. No, they would not delay another hour getting to St Mungo's. "Most likely get locked up for some form of delinquency or the other."
They'd be married four years come March, and the day he tried to arrest her both seemed like yesterday and a lifetime ago. He supposed the first year they were together alone was more eventful than a decade in another couple's life, but even with the hardships and the tragedies, he wouldn't have traded their life for anything. And he wouldn't let anything happen to it, either.
Archie pushed up and kissed her forehead. "Why don't you lie back down?" he suggested, picking up the covers and not so subtly ushering her under them. "I'll see to Ernie and Olive, and our bags, before we leave."
After fussing slightly about Izzie, he laid the covers down and went back to the crib to pick Olive up. "I won't be long," he added over his shoulder, turning slightly. Archie eased the door open with one hand, and shut it carefully behind him. He didn't allow himself to panic until the lock click, and he could slump against the wall of the hallway, cradling his sleeping daughter close to his chest.
