Keith pulled me into his lap and wrapped me in his arms. “Your mum called and says the baby made it through another night.”
“I can’t wait to see her. This has been a nightmare I don’t care to repeat.”
A nurse came in pushing a wheel chair.
“Ah, your limo has arrived,” Keith quipped.
The minute I sat down, the realization hit me. I wasn’t holding my baby as I left hospital. I was overcome with emotion.
Keith took over with the wheelchair. “You okay, luv?”
“I just wish I was holding our baby.”
He paused. “Wait. I have an idea. With a mischievous grin he took my overnight bag, cradled it, then placed it in my lap. There’s our baby. She’s crying. You can comfort her.”
He managed to make me smile.
A taxi waited to whisk us to the train station and soon we were on our way to London. We held each other, saying little. I tried to rest while Keith strummed his guitar.
The one-hour ride dragged on forever, but we finally pulled into London and caught the first taxi to be with our daughter.
We entered through glass doors, took the lift to the newborn ICU, donned masks and gowns and entered the dimly lit room. The room was completely silent save for the quiet, rhythmic pulses of machines breathing life through tubes and drips. My mother sat in a rocking chair by our daughter’s isolette. She saw me and we flew into each other’s arms.
“Ma cherie, how are you?”
“I’m much better.”
We approached our daughter, still clinging to life. She was the size of a doll and still had tubes coming off her. “How’s she doing?” I almost feared the answer. Somehow when her condition was reportedly improving, I thought she’d look better.
“She is asleep now,” my mother said. “Frank and Louisa stayed with her until early this morning. They went home for some much needed rest. I got here around eight and she’s been sleeping the whole time. I am told she was awake most the night.”
“That’s been her pattern the last two weeks,” I affirmed. I once again reached into the portal to touch her and, to my relief, the heart monitor remained silent.
Keith came over and put his arm around me. “I don’t like all those tubes in her.”
A nurse came in. “Oh, you must be her parents. The hospital staff in Brighton said you were on your way. I’m Carol, her day nurse. We’ll get to know each other very well these next weeks. Does she have a name?”
“No, not yet,” I felt a little embarrassed. “We‘ll decide tomorrow.”
My mother, learning we hadn’t eaten since breakfast, went to bring back lunch, leaving Keith and me alone with the baby. Keith reached in and touched her. “Hey, little angel. Mummy and Daddy are here.” He stroked her tiny leg. His palm could cover her entire body. The monitor showed an increased heart rate, but no alarms went off. Her skin was so transparent I could see her veins. Her entire chest beat with the rhythm of her heart.
My thoughts were disrupted when Aimee dropped in. We greeted each other with a huge hug.
By late afternoon Aimee and my mother left and we were momentarily alone with our daughter . . . until an older man and woman entered. “Hello, Son. How are you?”
[To be continued… Click here to view all chapters.]
