Adam kept his pace quite quick and tried to keep his mind from unraveling as he made his way downstairs. This was more or less an emergency, and Mimi once again had been left out of the loop, meaning they had been weak for her sentences and let them hit them, and now this. Not good. He walked swiftly, teleported to the medbay, loaded those four tubes into the machine, and put it on. He flicked on NICU as well, so incubators would be warming and ready.
"Hauptmann, what on earth are you doing?" Number One asked from the doorway.
He was on his way to the kitchen as he had noticed medbay having lights on, and something brushed against his mind: worry, urgency. His gaze flicked on the screen on the wall, showing tracing Mimi's contractions as well as the babies' heart rates.
"Fucking shit, she is in labour, right, goddamn it, I blew it, we need to act, and right now, but this has to be done very skillfully," he muttered.
Adam said, "Wulfe is there, she has had contractions since 6.30 or so, she is over six centimeters open, but that scar band is tight, she got lepard take cerclage out, and Wulfe is supporting her. Here in one tube of blood. Not good. She is feverish, too much in pain, but puffing out pheromones and all instinct, we blew it, I know it too," Adam confessed.
Damon strode to him, took the tube, and several other Salvatores walked in too, their gazes locked on tracing the heart rate of babies.
The bitter stench of stress and the cloying scent of infection hit Damon as he smelled the tube.
"Fucking shit, I can smell the infection, but it is not in the babies, just in her. Fine, we need a plan, and we have to be calm. Decisive when we act."
He handed the tube to the other Salvatores, allowing them to smell it too.
Number five said, "If you had only given me a chance to be with her, we would not be in this mess right now, as I would have sensed these days ago, but oh, once again, Mariella's jealousy hit you and made you weak pussyslave!"
Number one was quiet, and then he grunted, his voice gruff and irritated.
"Well whatever, I was weak or something, but now we have to take this very carefully, we are about to go in den of an alpha female in the middle of labour, and she is utterly going with her instincts, meaning we have to be assertive, not too aggressive, listen to her, but not give her much of choice here. I go first, and you will follow. Keep those shields on; no pheromones are hitting us. It is operating time, and I just have to hope that everything will be going just fine, but there are too many moving parts here for me to say for sure."
His voice was somber, and a few of Salvatore's gathered supplies that were needed as well. They teamed up. Numbers one, two, nine, and ten would be operating on Mimi. Three, five, six, seven, and eight would each have one baby, and Adam, Charles, and the boys would help them out. Four would be handling placentas and trying to identify infections.
Each baby had their own station, meaning the baby was taken out, cleaned, checked out, given necessary drops or drugs, and then, when they were stable, moved into NICU. But there was no telling in what shape each baby would be when they were taken out and what kind of infection Mimi had.
If there is danger to babies, do they need antibiotics or something else? Babies would also be given their blood, meaning activating their vampire side, helping them bit. The estimation of weight was hovering around four pounds, meaning not too big, even though they were almost full term.
Damon walked into the room. Mimi was leaning against Wulfe, who was visibly distressed and pale, but kept his stance as Mimi panted. Yet another contraction, and Damon kept his expression utterly neutral as yet another large blood clot dropped from between Mimi's legs to the floor with a heavy, wet sound. He could see at least five previous ones, and all of them were large, so she was hemorrhaging a lot.
His gaze moved to fetal monitoring, slight stress, which was visible as well. Mimi's vitals were not good enough; it was time to act. Not explain.
"Wulfe, I am going to take Mimi to lean to me, be calm, and go to number five. He starts on cleaning spells as Mimi is infected, and I have no idea if it can hit you," he told Wulfe telepathically.
"Baby, what the hell, you are in labour? Fine, come on, lean to me, that's it, good girl. Let Wulfe take a breather. Now, come on, closer." Damon crooned, his voice low and calm as he got Mimi to grip him.
He placed his arms under Mimi's armpits into her back, pulling her as close to him as her belly made possible.
Damon kept his stance stable and said telepathically to Number Two, "Get ready, come behind her, I am about to knock her out, and she is not light."
Mimi moaned low, and Damon could feel the next contraction hitting her, and he could literally feel her pain. His right hand conjured a syringe full of strong anesthetic, and he used numbing energy on Mimi's back, stopping her from noticing as the long needle penetrated her back and plunged into her heart.
Damon murmured all the time calmly while his finger depressed the plunger steadily, and he could feel Mimi's body slacking, her weight even more. Number two grabbed her as well when her legs gave out, and she passed out cleanly, but contractions did not stop there, and fetal distress was evident. Their five babies did not like to be inside their mother right now, and they had to act quickly.
Number two supported her, and number one grunted softly. A few other salvatores walked in and lifted Mimi into a gurney.
Number one said, "Prep her, I will go and scrub up, we have to hurry, no time to wait or to be fully clean. Those babies are in distress."
His voice was tight and stressed, and he hurried to the scrubbing station, pulled clean scrubs on himself, and started to wash his hands, trying to curb his worry over his babies and his wife. Why had he not been there for her? He had failed her once again, and despite his intentions, this had happened, and now it was not the time to mull over but act.
Warm water sloshed over his hands, and the medicinal smell of scrubbing soap filled his nose as he scrubbed his hands with the experience of centuries, and he was very particular over cleanliness; he had seen a long time ago just how much infection can spoil and kill. He had not always been a saviour, always a healer.
But still, in his experiments, what he had conducted, infection could ruin them as well, so this was a hard-earned lesson a long time ago. Sometimes, the price one must pay might get just too steep, and it will teach one a big lesson in one go.
Salvatores carried Mimi into the prepping room, undressed her, and put on monitoring devices, not those wide bands but smaller ones. They intubated her as they gave her more meds and got those contractions to finally stop. Her naked body with her enormous belly was all revealed under the harsh and unforgiving lights of the operating room.
Men put their surgical gowns on while those who were tasked with cleaning her belly and draping her worked. Stations with resuscitation supplies for babies, thermal lamps were all set, and the team was ready, just waiting for number one and surgery to begin. No one had any big expectations or worries about the upcoming surgery, as this was just one of those times when one must focus here and now and not think too far ahead.
Sterile dry air in the operating room greeted number one as he stepped in. Everything was ready. His hands were steady and his breathing controlled as he reached for his instruments and started to slice through several layers of different tissues to reach the uterus.
"Get ready for the first one," his voice told the team calmly as he saw an utterly packed uterus bulging from the incision.
He very carefully made a small cut, opening it and getting ready to take out the first baby. Number two was to the opposite side of him, and he took suction ready as number one nicked sack around baby, and the slurping of fetal fluids was heard. Number one's gloved hands were steady and fast as he grabbed the baby, and he cussed in his mind as this one was too limp and blue.
"First one is out, female," he remarked and lifted the baby into the waiting hands of the team.
No need for him to ponder what shape the baby was, as team members took her as soon as he had cut the cord.
Bloody liquid was suctioned, and number one said, "Cell saving protocol. She is losing too much blood. "
His tone was tight, and he carefully maneuvered the placenta out and placed it into a waiting bowl. Blood, bodily fluids, and the sickly scent of infection hung in the air like a curtain, but now it was not the time to get nauseous, but the time to act.
Number four was inspecting the placenta and umbilical cord, and his voice said, " The umbilical vein is infected, meaning her side of the placenta is affected, not the baby's. I have no idea if this is just for one or for all. But now we have the source."
Number one nodded. He was digging the next baby out.
"Boy, this one is a bit more perky," he said as he got a now writhing, much more lively specimen out, but he was small but cranky.
The team again was ready to receive him, and number four waited for his placenta so he could inspect it, too.
"Start taking samples of the placenta, try to identify bacteria or pathogens, and isolate them, make also do some form of sensitivity testing, so we have a plan of attack as soon as possible," Number One said.
Number four remarked, "On it, not sure what kind of bug this is, but we get to it. Hmm, this placenta is much healthier but smaller, and there are slight clots here, but no infection," he muttered as he got the placenta to be inspected.
Number one was now taking out the third baby, a girl, and this was bigger and even more crankier; she actually started to cry when they took her out.
"Feisty, good sign, let's take you out, my sweeting," Number One crooned to baby, who was less impressed by this.
She was almost five pounds, the biggest of babies so far, and lively. Team, a few salvatores were ready for her. She was not too pink. She was kind of pale, and Number One was pondering to himself if she was anemic; of course, it would be one more complication, but they would treat her and get her well.
He was trying to focus on the job in hand, not the fact that he plunged his hands inside his wife's time after time, and the warmth, slipperiness of her blood and mixed fluids told him so much of the upcoming battle against this infection. He was trying not to summon her face in his mind but to focus on the medical aspect and think of her just a patient, nothing more, nothing less.
Well, easier said than done, as he could smell her strawberry scent, feel her skin, her tissues, smell her blood, and sense her mind despite her being very deeply anesthetized. It seemed like their bond had gotten much stronger, deeper, and more profound, and right now, Damon was not sure if it was a good thing or a bad thing.
All he had to do was get these babies out, get Mimi stabilized, and hope like hell that this infection was not too severe. But the slurping of suction, the humming of the machine filtering her blood, and the beeps from the machines told him her state was far from ideal.
The fourth baby was a tiny boy, and he was pale, limp, and not moving thought he had a pulse. It was a bit erratic.
Number one said, "This one is quiet and tiny."
The team took him and moved briskly to resuscitate him while Damon dug his fingers into the now emptying womb, trying to find the correct placenta and take it out before extracting the last baby. In the hushed environment of the operating room, beeps and hushed murmurs of men were heard, and occasional squeaks of babies as well. Smell it was infection, blood, childbirth, stress, a multitude of information if you were to analyze it. Thought now it was the time to act, not to process all olfactory information.
The placenta was small, and there was evidence of infection on it. As number one got it out, his hands were bloody, as Mimi bled from sites where placentas had been taken out, and as he got the placenta out, he gave it to number four. He did not hesitate to reach for the last baby, a girl, and started to get her out, too. He hoped it was not too severe stress for Mimi and she would recover relatively fast, but nothing was certain, and as it was, three babies had shown evidence of infection meant that infection was not mild.
The last girl was bit limp and pale too as he got her out and gave her team responsible for her care. Two of the babies had been stabilized, and teams had moved them into the NICU downstairs already. Now all he had to do, was take out last placenta, remove the uterus, and make sure Mimi was not bleeding, get her insides back into orientation, and close her up, hook her up into antibiotics and get her into recovery.
Teams and other salvatores, as well as Adam and Charles, would give him updates on babies, and they could then make plans about their treatments as well. But as far as he suspected, they might need a few days to be sedated, given blood transfusions, making sure infection was not hitting them, and they would start to grow and thrive. Even though they were quite small, well, not so small as Mimi's first babies had been, but the biggest girl had been five pounds 4 ounces, and the smallest three pounds 7 ounces.
And then the question of Mimi's situation. How bad was the infection? What was needed, and could she be awakened anytime soon? So many questions, so many compromises would have to be made, and those were things that Damon hated: making medical compromises. But it was what it was, and only the next few hours would tell him more.
He gazed finally at her face, gaunt, tired-looking face of his wife, who was now covered and ready to be moved into medbay, hooked on monitors, and Damon ran his hands through his hair, taking a few deep breaths, and got ready to go and check out those test results of babies as well for Mimi.
The whole operation had taken only five hours. Well, babies were out in three, but he had used time to make sure Mimi was not bleeding, and her organs would survive. She was pale as well and needed a blood transfusion at some point. But it was now time to be a medical professional and move on. Tackle one problem at a time. Time for them to be family would surely come, but not just yet.