Anna || HS

Anna 2- CHAPTER 45

*** A/N: Reminder!! There is NO PANDEMIC according to this story. So, the Love On Tour dates for The Fine Line album are the originally planned dates. This also means I had to take some liberties with photos 'pretending' outfits were from locations that they obviously were not. Just roll with it :)

~March to April 2020~

Harry- 26
Anna- 25/26- (18-25 weeks pregnant)
August- 3
Robin- 2
Florence- 9 months

~March 12th, 2020~

Harry POV:

Anna and I have an appointment today with Dr. Norby and Dr. Sharma, who is the high risk doctor that was added to the team when Anna was diagnosed with hyperemesis gravidarum (HG). I'd never heard of it until I was living with someone dealing with it round the clock. It reached a serious level a month ago, when Anna was hospitalized and Dr. Sharma was consulted. Anna had lost too much weight and continued to fight dehydration, so it was decided that upon leaving the hospital, she would  receive regular IV infusions to help with hydration and offer some more options for nausea medication until things (hopefully) improve, though we were warned that her condition could last for her entire pregnancy. Fucking fantastic.

Her HG has slightly improved over the last month, but not to the point where Anna is able to function as normal. The timing couldn't be worse because I am so busy with all things Fine Line and tour, so I'm not able to be there to get her what she needs or be with the kids, so that is where our moms have come in.

It quickly became clear that it was going to be too much to ask Marit and Viv to take on round the clock care when so many other things had to be added to their daily duties with Anna essentially being out of commission. Elinor stayed for the first two weeks in January. Then my mum came for the next two and they continue to switch on the same schedule.

Anna has been a trooper, a VERY cranky trooper, but still a trooper. The kids are trying to understand, but it's hard to explain why babies in Anna's tummy are making her so sick that she can't do swimming lessons, or play at the park or bake cupcakes. She isn't on full-time bedrest, but she spends quite a bit of time in our room, trying to hide the worst of it from the kids. When she is out of the bedroom with us is when she is feeling her best, so the fact that she seems to be out of our room a little longer each week is promising.

"Darling, we have to leave in ten minutes," I say as I knock quietly before entering our room. She is either already dressed, or in the process of getting dressed, because the clothes she set out for the appointment are not laying over the chair, but she isn't in the room. I find her leaning over the toilet in the bathroom, holding her curled hair up in her very thin hand. "Oh, love, let me," I say, rushing to hold her hair back as she loses whatever is left of the breakfast she tried to keep down.

"This shit has to end soon," she growls, looking up at me with tired eyes. I go to open my mouth and she interrupts. "Don't say it."

"Say what?" I question.

She puts on her best mocking British accent and speaks into the toilet bowl, "you're so strong. I'm so proud of you. Blah, blah, blah." She sits up and wipes her lips with toilet paper. I let her hair fall down so I can get her a glass of water.

I hand her the water. "Seems you already know what I was going to say, so I'll skip it for now. We do need to get going, though." I offer my hand to her, pulling her off the floor in the bathroom, a room that I spend way too much time in these days. I can't imagine how much she hates it. I'm guessing it will get a substantial redesign once she is feeling better.

We pull up outside the office at our scheduled time, by-passing the front desk and lobby and going straight to the ultrasound room. "Do you want to find out their genders?" she asks me.