Chapter 111 Hurt

Chapter 111 Hurt
Ugh.
​Agatha gripped the edge of the bed until her knuckles turned white. Cold sweat poured down her temples. She tried to push herself up. Her massive belly felt as though it was dragging every muscle in her back downward. She took short, shallow breaths, as the space in her lungs felt increasingly cramped.
​"Don’t force it, Agatha."
​Xavier appeared from the bathroom, drying his hands with a small towel. He immediately approached and slipped his arms under Agatha’s armpits to help her sit upright.
​"I only want to get to that chair, Xavier," Agatha said. Her voice sounded raspy and weary.
​Xavier lifted Agatha’s body with care. He settled his wife into a plush armchair facing the window. "Your feet are getting redder and more swollen. I will get some warm water now."
​Agatha looked at her own feet. The skin on the tops of her feet looked so tight it appeared to glisten. Her toes were difficult to move due to the fluid buildup. "It is so heavy. It feels so uncomfortable every time I try to stand. All my weight feels as though it is resting on these ankles."
​"Hold on just a little longer. Pierre says in two or three weeks they will need to be delivered through surgery," Xavier replied. He knelt before Agatha. The man placed a wooden basin filled with warm water and salt beneath her feet.
​"Akh," Agatha closed her eyes as her skin touched the high temperature of the water.
​"Is it too hot?" Xavier asked with a worried tone.
​"No. It feels right. It is just that the nerves in my feet feel very sensitive right now," Agatha answered.
​Xavier began to massage Agatha’s calves with gentle, circular motions. "How is the pressure in your back?"
​"The same. Sometimes I feel my ribs are being squeezed when they move together in there," Agatha said. She leaned her head against the chair’s cushion. "I can feel their feet moving on the left and right sides simultaneously."
​Tap. Tap.
​Frans entered the room without waiting for an answer. He carried a tray with slices of fresh fruit and a glass of warm white milk. "Morning, Agatha. Morning, Xavier."
​"Just put it on that table, Frans," Xavier murmured. The man remained focused on his massage.
​Frans placed the tray on the side table. He stood with both hands on his hips while observing Agatha’s condition. "Wow, Agatha. Your belly has truly reached its limit. Do you not feel suffocated staying in this room all the time?"
​"I hate having to walk far with feet like these, Frans," Agatha replied. She took a slice of apple and chewed slowly.
​"But Pierre said the risk of hemorrhage is very high for a triplet pregnancy like this," Frans reminded her. His usually playful face now looked somewhat serious. "He has even asked for an extra medical team to stand by downstairs."
​"I know the risks. Pierre has prepared complete medical equipment in a special room," Xavier said. He began to dry Agatha’s feet with a soft, dry towel. "Frans, help me lift this footrest forward a bit."
​Frans moved to help quickly. "When was the last time you slept more than two hours, Xavier? Your eyes look very red this morning."
​"None of your business," Xavier answered shortly without looking up.
​"Of course it is my business. If you fall ill or faint from exhaustion, who is going to take care of those three babies later?" Frans countered with a mocking yet worried tone.
​"I will not faint just from a few days of missed sleep," Xavier stated firmly.
​Agatha looked at the two men in turn. "Enough, do not argue."
​"Mmhh," Agatha suddenly doubled over. She gripped the arm of the sofa so tightly her nails nearly tore the upholstery.
​"Agatha? What is it? Does something hurt?" Xavier immediately cupped his wife’s face.
​"It hurts so much. It feels like something is forcibly pulling the muscles at the bottom of my uterus," Agatha groaned. Her face turned pale within seconds.
​"Frans! Call Pierre right now! Fast!" Xavier roared.
​Frans ran out the door without another word. The sound of his footsteps thudded loudly along the corridor. Brak. Pierre’s door at the end of the hallway was forced open.
​"This is only the beginning of the seventh month," Agatha whispered, her voice trembling with fear.
​"Stay calm. I am here. Take slow breaths," Xavier tried to lift Agatha back onto the bed so she could be in a more comfortable position.
​Pierre entered the room in a hurry. He carried his large leather medical bag. Behind him, Melynda appeared so anxious that her face was ghostly pale.
​"Lie her down now!" Pierre ordered. He put on rubber gloves with rapid movements. Sret. Sret.
​"Her blood pressure has spiked drastically. This is a case of serious preeclampsia," Pierre said after checking Agatha’s pulse and pupils.
​"How is Grandfather?" Agatha asked amidst her groans of pain.
​"Do not think about anything else for now. Focus on yourself and the safety of your three children," Melynda said while wiping Agatha’s forehead, which was covered in cold sweat.
​The sound of the fetal heart monitor brought by Pierre’s assistant began to beep at a very rapid tempo. Tit. Tit. Tit. Tit.
​"The second baby’s heart rate is slowing down unnaturally," Pierre stared at the small monitor in his hand with a deep frown. "Xavier, I need a decision from you now. If a dire medical situation occurs, who should I prioritize to save first?"
​Xavier stood frozen. The room suddenly felt empty and suffocating. He stared at Agatha, who was struggling against the immense pain.
​"Save them all, Pierre. Never give me an impossible choice like that," Xavier answered with a low but sharp voice.
​"Xavier, by medical procedure I must have a definitive answer from you as her legal guardian!" Pierre urged at a high volume.
​Agatha reached for Pierre’s collar with the last of her strength. "Save my children. No matter what happens to me, save them."
​"No! Pierre, save my wife!" Xavier countered firmly.
​"Xavier, please listen to me just this once," Agatha looked at her husband with eyes that were starting to grow dim and lose focus.