<USS Avalon> Losing a Part of Her Soul

Losing a Part of Her Soul
by Phillipa Waterson and  Braelin
 
----- This Log contains content that may be  considered Highly Sensitive ----
 
Phillipa walked slowly across the station, her feet were starting  to ache, 
and the bag she was carrying seemed to be getting heavier with every  step.  It 
didn't help that she was five months pregnant, and with triplets,  no less.
 
She finally made it to the docking area, and began the trek across  the 
umbilical on to the new Avalon.  Once she boarded the ship, she hit the  first 
computer panel, "Computer, this is Phillipa Waterson, where are my  quarters?"
 
"Your quarters are on Deck 3."
 
"And the quickest path to them?"
 
"Follow the blinking panels."
 
"Thank you, Computer."  She knew that the thank you was not  necessary, but 
it seemed appropriate.
 
Moving slowly along, she arrived at the turbolift, and rode up to  deck 
three, exiting and thankfully close to her quarters.  She entered in,  and 
dropped 
the bag at the door.  Seeing the couch, she plopped down, not  even caring how 
it looked.
 
After a few minutes of relaxation, and feeling the swelling in her  feet go 
down a bit.  She made her way to a computer terminal.   "Computer, is John 
Forester on the Avalon?"
 
"Unable to locate Ensign Forester on the ship."
 
"I wonder where he could be", absentmindedly asking.
 
The computer responded, "According to ship records, Ensign Forester  is 
considered AWOL, and is being searched for."
 
"AWOL?  That doesn't sound like John.  Is Captain Ketchum  on the ship?"
 
"Admiral Ketchum is in his ready room."
 
"Admiral, people are moving up."
 
She closed the connection with the computer, and opened a link with  the 
Admiral.  "Admiral, Lieutenant Waterson, reporting in."
 
"Ah, Phillipa, welcome aboard.  How are you  doing?"
 
"Doing well, Sir.  I was wondering, I gathered from reports  that John is 
AWOL, is that correct?"
 
"Unfortunately, it is.  Lieutenant O'Donnell is currently  assigned to bring 
him back, but something tells me that he not going to be  found."
 
Phillipa nodded, "I understand.  Anything I can do to help  prepare the ship? 
 I think I can still drive, provided we don't have those  low bucket seats."
 
"Relax for now, I'll let you know if we need you.  Just out of  curiosity, 
why were you asking about John?"
 
"Well", she was about to lie, "I was just going over the crew lists  and saw 
that he wasn't aboard."  They were to have told Ketchum together,  and since 
John wasn't there, she wasn't going to tell him herself, that he was  going to 
be a grand-father.
 
"I see.  Very well.  Talk to you soon, and just so you  know, they are not 
the bucket seats."
 
She smiled.  "Waterson out."  Closing the comm, she  frowned. Her heart was 
pounding hard.  She needed to lie down.   Walking to the bed, she sat on the 
side. Finally she lay back, a single tear  rolling down her cheek, as she went 
to sleep.
 
Awaking with a start, a few hours later, sitting up, a pain crossed  her 
abdomen.  Taking several deep breaths, it wasn't going away.   Something wasn't 
right.  Putting her legs over the side of the bed,  Phillipa attempted to 
stand, 
and fell promptly to the floor.
 
Her hands went to her abdomen as she grimaced from the pain.   Finally, 
reaching up, she tapped her comm-badge, "Medical emergency in  Lieutenant 
Waterson's quarters."  That was the last she got out, before  passing out from 
the 
sharp pains.
 
Braelin was on duty.  Of course she was; it was the middle of  the night.  
The only other people in Sickbay were one nurse and one  med-tech.  Leaving the 
nurse to take charge for a few moments, Brae was out  the door and on her way 
to Lt. Waterson's quarters before the intercom went  silent.  The computer 
obligingly lit her way with the emergency indicators  on the lower wall, and 
she 
followed them into the lift and then down a corridor  again when the lift 
opened.  A medical command code opened Ms. Waterson's  door, and Braelin ran 
in, 
finding the woman on the floor beside her bed.   The tricorder told her all she 
needed to know for now.  Her hand went  automatically to her comm badge, that 
reach she'd had to train herself out of  when she spent four years in the 
past.  "Medical emergency, two to beam to  Sickbay."
 
They both sparkled out of her quarters and into sickbay, somehow  the 
computer knew to put Phillipa right on the biobed.  She let out a moan  in her 
unconscious state.
 
"This isn't good," Braelin muttered, more to herself than to the  nurse.  She 
worked quickly, applying a hypo and then another.  "She's  going to lose this 
pregnancy, and it's too early.  Get a neonatal stasis  unit... and pray the 
fetuses survive."  She turned to scrub and put on a  smock and gloves.  This 
was going to be a messy procedure.
 
Muttering, while unconscious, very few words could be made out,  only a faint 
"John", was clear.
 
One more hypo, and the patient should come around.  Braelin  applied a 
lower-body nerve block and then the hypo.
 
"Doctor, what would you like me to do", the nurse asked as she had  done this 
type of procedure before.
 
Phillipa opened her eyes, a pleading look in them.  Turning  her head, she 
looked at the nurse and then at Braelin.  "Save them,  please."
 
"I'll do the best I can," Brae promised.  She checked for  dilation.  "We're 
going to have to go in surgically, Lieutenant.  But  that actually offers them 
a better chance than a vaginal delivery, at this stage  of development."  
Turning to the nurse, she instructed, "Have the hypos of  stasis formula 
waiting. 
 Other than that... just be ready to assist, same  as any surgery."  She 
moved quickly to the supply cabinets and pulled out  the sterile-wrapped trays 
of 
surgical supplies.  "Let's get this done while  they still have a chance."
 
The nurse nodded and started to prep, also.
 
Phillipa looked down at her abdomen, it was too soon, but the voice  of the 
doctor comforted her.  Maybe she could save them.
 
Braelin spoke softly to the patient as she made the incision.   "As far as I 
can tell, this is an issue with your immune system, rejecting the  pregnancy," 
she said, trying to be reassuring.  "There doesn't seem to be  anything 
actually wrong with the babies themselves.  Sometimes this happens  with 
multiple 
pregnancies," she went on.  "It's possible that after a  recovery period, you 
may be able to carry a single child to term."  She  worked as she spoke, and a 
few moments later the first half-grown fetus was  safely hypo'd and in the 
waiting stasis unit.
 
Laying still, "Are you able to tell if they are girls or  boys?"  Knowing 
what she and John had discussed on names.  Another  pain seemed to climb her 
spine.  It seemed that whenever her mind went to  him, she would have pain.
 
Swiftly moving the second little one, "A boy first, and this one is  a girl." 
 The third baby was tangled in the cord.  As quickly and  carefully as she 
could work, Braelin knew it was too late.  Her voice was  very soft.  "And a 
little boy... who isn't going to make it."  She  didn't even have time to apply 
the hypo to the tiny child, just held him cradled  in her hand as his heart 
stopped beating.  Her eyes filled with tears, and  she blinked them away.  
"Nurse... get a wrap, and we'll let Lt. Waterson  hold her son."  She had to 
use all 
her Vulcan training to keep from choking  on the words.  Such a tiny life, 
extinguished so quickly.
 
The nurse rushed to get a wrap, while the stasis chambers came  online.
 
Not even registering the words, Phillipa advised the doctor, "The  girl is 
Katerina, the first boy is David, the second is Phillip."  Finally,  she had 
realized what the doctor had said, her own eyes filling with  tears.  She 
realized that a part of her soul had just died.
 
"Here is Phillip."  Brae wrapped him in the soft cloth the  nurse brought, 
and gave him to Phillipa to hold while she completed the  procedure, and then 
closed the incision.  "David and Katerina are..."   She glanced at the machine. 
 
"Safely in stasis and completely viable.   We can keep them there until you, 
or a host-mother, can bring them to  term."  She finished up, leaving a 
machine in place to help speed up the  healing process, then stripped off her 
gloves, put her hands under the sanitizer  beam for a few moments, and came to 
the 
head of the biobed.  "How are you  doing?" she asked softly.
 
Phillipa was looking at Phillip, the tears streaming down her  face.  Choking 
out a response, "To answer your question doctor, physically,  I shall 
recover.  Mentally, it is another matter."
 
"I know," Braelin whispered.  The infant was tiny, about half  a kilo.  It 
was far too soon, and only modern science had saved his  siblings.  There was 
-- 
ethically -- nothing Braelin could have done.   But it still hurt.  It hurt 
her almost as much as it hurt the bereaved  mother, for she could have saved 
the child.  Yet, to do so would have been  wrong, unethical.  It would have 
changed the course of history, and that  was something Braelin could not do.  
The 
consequences were far too  dire.  So she stood there, gazing down at her 
little lost patient, and  hurting.  "I'll have the Counselor stop in to see you 
before you're  discharged."

She took a slow, deep breath.  "Hold him as long  as you like, Mother.  I'm 
going to put the stasis unit in the monitor area,  and I'll come back to sit 
with you."
 
The nurse hovered also, such a tiny life, to be lost, the tears  running down 
her own face.  She wiped them and went to clean up the  area.
 
Phillipa didn't move her eyes from the tiny wrapped bundle.   Again, all she 
felt was that she lost a part of her soul that  day.

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