Complications: The Hope We Must Cling To
The Hope We Must Cling To
Iella came awake suddenly, shuddering, crying, wrapped in layers of panic. She clutched her belly, gasping.
"'Ella, 'Ella." Her husband was leaning over her, one hand against her cheek, pushing tangled hair away. He fumbled with a small device, before running it gently over her belly.
The soft quick whooshing of her baby's heartbeat calmed her, and she settled back against her pillows, staring up at the ceiling.
Wedge lay down next to her, leaving the small blocky sensor where it was. He nuzzled his face against her cheek, and she tucked her hands against his chest, and just breathed.
It had been over a month since her surgery - since she'd gone through a nightmare and emerged with a miracle. But still she suffered these terrors almost every night. Only the beat of the baby's heart could soothe Iella's fears.
A dim light appeared at the door, followed by a series of soft beeps. Iella managed a small smile. "Thank you, Gate, but we're fine." The droid whooped sadly, and she rethought. "But since you're already active, could you get some tea ready?"
Gate chirped happily as he whirred out of the room, and Wedge chuckled. "He's more anxious than I am."
Iella snorted. "Not possible." She smirked when he pulled a face. "Not that I blame you." She removed the sensor, and turned to face him fully. "You'll notice I haven't hit you again."
"And I'm grateful, my lady." He brought both hands down to caress her baby bump. "I've also noticed that you're growing again."
Iella curled around him. "Yeah. Guess she finally caught up." Dr Banefre had warned them that since the uterus had expanded in advance of the fetus, it would take a few weeks for Iella to start showing more growth.
Part of Iella couldn't believe that she really was still pregnant. Waking after the surgery, her first reaction to the news had been disbelief. Even seeing the hologram hadn't really convinced her - the grief and pain were still too deep, even though she'd reached the five month mark safely.
Wedge was running his fingers absently over her belly button, and Iella squirmed at the light tickling. She bit back a giggle - she didn't want to make him aware of it, or worse, encourage him. Her husband was absorbed in his thoughts however, and did not notice.
"What is it, love?" She ran a hand over his chest and his gaze came back to her.
"I didn't want to push this, but... Have you thought of names yet? We can't just call her 'Baby'."
"Sure we could." Iella smiled fondly. "You do realise that the gender hasn't actually been confirmed, don't you? Melli just dislikes terming babies as 'its'."
Wedge was almost pouting. "Well, she knew the baby was alive, so if her guess is 'she', then I'm willing to go with it."
"That's just because you really want a daughter."
"What's wrong with that?"
She laughed and leaned in to kiss him. "Nothing at all. But we do have to consider both sorts of names."
Her husband sighed heavily. "If you insist."
"Consider it mission planning," she teased. "Covering all possibilities.""
His fingers tangled in her hair as he ran his lips along her jaw. "My darling, I've already learned that our child prefers impossibilities."
"That is so your fault, Antilles." She tilted her head back, eyes heavy-lidded, and smiled lazily. "Not that I'm complaining, really."
"All those jokes," Wedge chuckled. "About how any child of ours would be doubly stubborn. I'm so glad that was true."
She kissed him softly. "Me too, darling. Me too." He drew her closer, and they were quiet for a while, before she sighed against his lips. "Did you have any names in mind?"
Wedge rested his cheek on her hair. "A few, I guess. Adanna, maybe. Liana. Seret."
Iella leaned back to look him in the eye. "You haven't mentioned the one name I expected to be first on your list."
Her husband looked awkward. "I did consider it, but... I don't know. Zena just doesn't seem right. And... Well, I kind of thought that... well, that our child's name should have meaning to both of us."
"Wedge, honey. It's the name of the woman that raised you. That has a lot of meaning to me."
He flushed. "It still doesn't seem like the right name for our girl." He blushed and dropped his gaze. "And it doesn't seem fair that I name her after any of my family, when you don't even know the names of yours."
Iella swatted his shoulder. "Would you stop being so much of a sweetheart while I'm so hormonal?" She blinked furiously, her eyes burning, and was grateful when a whistle sounded at the doorway. "Thanks Gate."
Wedge rolled over her, careful to lift his weight so that it didn't rest on her. "Come on, sweets." He pulled her to her feet, one hand caressing the skin of her belly before pulling her night shirt into position. "Let's get you and Baby Nameless all settled down again."
Iella let him lead her to the kitchen. "Baby Nameless, really?"
"You don't like it?" Wedge collected a plate of pastries from the chiller before joining her at the small table by their viewport.
She arched an eyebrow at him. "Baby. Nameless. No." She sipped her Alakathan tea, closing her eyes in pleasure as she savoured the sweet fragrance. "Baby Antilles, yes."
He brightened, his grin just on the goofy side. "Or, if she's a girl, I pick the name. If she's a boy, you pick."
She spit out her tea, chortling. "If *she's* a boy? Wedge, you idiot."
"You know what I meant. Don't be so mean." Her husband pouted, but his eyes were sparkling as he tore pieces from a pastry. "I'm the father of your child -
She snatched a morsel and stuffed it into his mouth. "Then don't be so silly." She sighed softly. "I thought the sleepless nights started *after* the baby was born, not four months in advance."
"It's like a simulator run. Practice. By the time she's born, we'll be old pros."
"I told you, we don't know we're having a girl," Iella huffed, half-exasperated. "Would it really be so bad if it were a boy?"
Wedge rested his hand on hers, fingertips brushing over the inside of her wrist. "Of course not. Boy or girl, we'll still be parents." He smirked. "I'd just really like a daughter."
“You’re hopeless, Antilles, really.”
“And you are so very harsh to your devoted husband. So. What would you name our baby boy?”
Iella froze for a moment. After all of her clamouring for a boy, she really hadn’t considered any names. Feeling as awful as she had, she’d never put her mind to it. Though she was feeling better now, she still had avoided thinking of the baby as her baby; she’d avoided thinking ahead, terrified of having her hope and dream stolen again.
Wedge’s eyes, dark on her own, showed far too much compassion and understanding for her liking - how dare he read her so easily! But she knew how to wipe that look away. “Wedge Junior.”
Horror spread across her husband’s face. “No.”
She smirked. “Come on! You said I could name a boy. That’s my choice.”
“Nuh-uh.” He shook his head vigorously. “Just how egotistical do you think I am?”
“I know exactly how egotistical you are. Remember, Mirax spelled it all out-”
He interrupted her with a huff. “Well, I’m not so egotistical that I’d have my son named after me. No. That’s… that’s something Lando would do. Not me. No.”
She couldn’t help giggling at his indignant expression. “Well, you’re so certain that it’s a girl, so really, it doesn’t matter what I choose, now does it?”
"Wedge. Junior. No.” He wagged his finger in her face, sending her suggestion the same way as Baby Nameless had gone.
Iella sighed in mock-defeat. “Fine.” She knew, if she were really set on the name, that it would be fairly easy to turn him to her way of thinking. He so hated denying her things that she wanted. She chewed on half a pastry, thoughtful. “What do you think of Jagged? And your family, my family, same diff, Mister.”
“Yes, ma’am!” He shot her a jaunty salute before sobering, running his fingertips lightly over her knuckles. “I - this might seem strange, but here goes - I don’t want to… I mean, I don’t think…” He sighed, running a hand roughly through his hair in frustration.
Iella waited patiently, knowing that whatever he was trying to say meant a great deal to him. Wedge could get ferociously tongue-tied whenever his emotions ran high; it was a wonder he was ever able to give coherent speeches.
“What I’m trying to say,” he went on, having collected himself, “is that… our baby came so close to dying… we came so close to losing - him, her, whichever - that I don’t really want to name her, him, after… well, after a dead person.” He bit his lip as he finally looked up at her. “Does that make any sense?”
“Oh, Wedge. Of course it does.” She turned her hand over to grip his, in perfect agreement with his thoughts. Their baby, so close to being lost forever, and yet hanging in there so tenaciously; still there the entire time they’d thought her lost…
Iella caught her breath in a gasp, her thoughts sliding to a halt. Oh. Oh, of course. Both hands pulled back to rest on the precious swell of her belly.
Wedge came around the table to her side, tense and worried. “’Ella? Is everything okay?” He wrapped an arm tightly around her shoulders.
Her fingers traced the curve of life beneath them as she leaned close to her husband. Voice low and gravelly, she whispered in his ear, “I know our baby’s name. She’s our hope, the hope we must cling to, even when she seems to be gone forever.” Hearing his breath catch, she smiled, tears sparkling in her eyes. “Her name is Syal.”
Iella came awake suddenly, shuddering, crying, wrapped in layers of panic. She clutched her belly, gasping.
"'Ella, 'Ella." Her husband was leaning over her, one hand against her cheek, pushing tangled hair away. He fumbled with a small device, before running it gently over her belly.
The soft quick whooshing of her baby's heartbeat calmed her, and she settled back against her pillows, staring up at the ceiling.
Wedge lay down next to her, leaving the small blocky sensor where it was. He nuzzled his face against her cheek, and she tucked her hands against his chest, and just breathed.
It had been over a month since her surgery - since she'd gone through a nightmare and emerged with a miracle. But still she suffered these terrors almost every night. Only the beat of the baby's heart could soothe Iella's fears.
A dim light appeared at the door, followed by a series of soft beeps. Iella managed a small smile. "Thank you, Gate, but we're fine." The droid whooped sadly, and she rethought. "But since you're already active, could you get some tea ready?"
Gate chirped happily as he whirred out of the room, and Wedge chuckled. "He's more anxious than I am."
Iella snorted. "Not possible." She smirked when he pulled a face. "Not that I blame you." She removed the sensor, and turned to face him fully. "You'll notice I haven't hit you again."
"And I'm grateful, my lady." He brought both hands down to caress her baby bump. "I've also noticed that you're growing again."
Iella curled around him. "Yeah. Guess she finally caught up." Dr Banefre had warned them that since the uterus had expanded in advance of the fetus, it would take a few weeks for Iella to start showing more growth.
Part of Iella couldn't believe that she really was still pregnant. Waking after the surgery, her first reaction to the news had been disbelief. Even seeing the hologram hadn't really convinced her - the grief and pain were still too deep, even though she'd reached the five month mark safely.
Wedge was running his fingers absently over her belly button, and Iella squirmed at the light tickling. She bit back a giggle - she didn't want to make him aware of it, or worse, encourage him. Her husband was absorbed in his thoughts however, and did not notice.
"What is it, love?" She ran a hand over his chest and his gaze came back to her.
"I didn't want to push this, but... Have you thought of names yet? We can't just call her 'Baby'."
"Sure we could." Iella smiled fondly. "You do realise that the gender hasn't actually been confirmed, don't you? Melli just dislikes terming babies as 'its'."
Wedge was almost pouting. "Well, she knew the baby was alive, so if her guess is 'she', then I'm willing to go with it."
"That's just because you really want a daughter."
"What's wrong with that?"
She laughed and leaned in to kiss him. "Nothing at all. But we do have to consider both sorts of names."
Her husband sighed heavily. "If you insist."
"Consider it mission planning," she teased. "Covering all possibilities.""
His fingers tangled in her hair as he ran his lips along her jaw. "My darling, I've already learned that our child prefers impossibilities."
"That is so your fault, Antilles." She tilted her head back, eyes heavy-lidded, and smiled lazily. "Not that I'm complaining, really."
"All those jokes," Wedge chuckled. "About how any child of ours would be doubly stubborn. I'm so glad that was true."
She kissed him softly. "Me too, darling. Me too." He drew her closer, and they were quiet for a while, before she sighed against his lips. "Did you have any names in mind?"
Wedge rested his cheek on her hair. "A few, I guess. Adanna, maybe. Liana. Seret."
Iella leaned back to look him in the eye. "You haven't mentioned the one name I expected to be first on your list."
Her husband looked awkward. "I did consider it, but... I don't know. Zena just doesn't seem right. And... Well, I kind of thought that... well, that our child's name should have meaning to both of us."
"Wedge, honey. It's the name of the woman that raised you. That has a lot of meaning to me."
He flushed. "It still doesn't seem like the right name for our girl." He blushed and dropped his gaze. "And it doesn't seem fair that I name her after any of my family, when you don't even know the names of yours."
Iella swatted his shoulder. "Would you stop being so much of a sweetheart while I'm so hormonal?" She blinked furiously, her eyes burning, and was grateful when a whistle sounded at the doorway. "Thanks Gate."
Wedge rolled over her, careful to lift his weight so that it didn't rest on her. "Come on, sweets." He pulled her to her feet, one hand caressing the skin of her belly before pulling her night shirt into position. "Let's get you and Baby Nameless all settled down again."
Iella let him lead her to the kitchen. "Baby Nameless, really?"
"You don't like it?" Wedge collected a plate of pastries from the chiller before joining her at the small table by their viewport.
She arched an eyebrow at him. "Baby. Nameless. No." She sipped her Alakathan tea, closing her eyes in pleasure as she savoured the sweet fragrance. "Baby Antilles, yes."
He brightened, his grin just on the goofy side. "Or, if she's a girl, I pick the name. If she's a boy, you pick."
She spit out her tea, chortling. "If *she's* a boy? Wedge, you idiot."
"You know what I meant. Don't be so mean." Her husband pouted, but his eyes were sparkling as he tore pieces from a pastry. "I'm the father of your child -
She snatched a morsel and stuffed it into his mouth. "Then don't be so silly." She sighed softly. "I thought the sleepless nights started *after* the baby was born, not four months in advance."
"It's like a simulator run. Practice. By the time she's born, we'll be old pros."
"I told you, we don't know we're having a girl," Iella huffed, half-exasperated. "Would it really be so bad if it were a boy?"
Wedge rested his hand on hers, fingertips brushing over the inside of her wrist. "Of course not. Boy or girl, we'll still be parents." He smirked. "I'd just really like a daughter."
“You’re hopeless, Antilles, really.”
“And you are so very harsh to your devoted husband. So. What would you name our baby boy?”
Iella froze for a moment. After all of her clamouring for a boy, she really hadn’t considered any names. Feeling as awful as she had, she’d never put her mind to it. Though she was feeling better now, she still had avoided thinking of the baby as her baby; she’d avoided thinking ahead, terrified of having her hope and dream stolen again.
Wedge’s eyes, dark on her own, showed far too much compassion and understanding for her liking - how dare he read her so easily! But she knew how to wipe that look away. “Wedge Junior.”
Horror spread across her husband’s face. “No.”
She smirked. “Come on! You said I could name a boy. That’s my choice.”
“Nuh-uh.” He shook his head vigorously. “Just how egotistical do you think I am?”
“I know exactly how egotistical you are. Remember, Mirax spelled it all out-”
He interrupted her with a huff. “Well, I’m not so egotistical that I’d have my son named after me. No. That’s… that’s something Lando would do. Not me. No.”
She couldn’t help giggling at his indignant expression. “Well, you’re so certain that it’s a girl, so really, it doesn’t matter what I choose, now does it?”
"Wedge. Junior. No.” He wagged his finger in her face, sending her suggestion the same way as Baby Nameless had gone.
Iella sighed in mock-defeat. “Fine.” She knew, if she were really set on the name, that it would be fairly easy to turn him to her way of thinking. He so hated denying her things that she wanted. She chewed on half a pastry, thoughtful. “What do you think of Jagged? And your family, my family, same diff, Mister.”
“Yes, ma’am!” He shot her a jaunty salute before sobering, running his fingertips lightly over her knuckles. “I - this might seem strange, but here goes - I don’t want to… I mean, I don’t think…” He sighed, running a hand roughly through his hair in frustration.
Iella waited patiently, knowing that whatever he was trying to say meant a great deal to him. Wedge could get ferociously tongue-tied whenever his emotions ran high; it was a wonder he was ever able to give coherent speeches.
“What I’m trying to say,” he went on, having collected himself, “is that… our baby came so close to dying… we came so close to losing - him, her, whichever - that I don’t really want to name her, him, after… well, after a dead person.” He bit his lip as he finally looked up at her. “Does that make any sense?”
“Oh, Wedge. Of course it does.” She turned her hand over to grip his, in perfect agreement with his thoughts. Their baby, so close to being lost forever, and yet hanging in there so tenaciously; still there the entire time they’d thought her lost…
Iella caught her breath in a gasp, her thoughts sliding to a halt. Oh. Oh, of course. Both hands pulled back to rest on the precious swell of her belly.
Wedge came around the table to her side, tense and worried. “’Ella? Is everything okay?” He wrapped an arm tightly around her shoulders.
Her fingers traced the curve of life beneath them as she leaned close to her husband. Voice low and gravelly, she whispered in his ear, “I know our baby’s name. She’s our hope, the hope we must cling to, even when she seems to be gone forever.” Hearing his breath catch, she smiled, tears sparkling in her eyes. “Her name is Syal.”