Authors: Brenda Kennedy
“
When we arrive at the
hospital, Leah is taken immediately upstairs. Sue, Tim, Mom, and
Dad meet us at the emergency room entrance. Sue and Mom cry when
they see Leah. Tim informs me that they already registered Leah
before he comforts his wife. We are instructed to go to the
3
rd
floor and wait in the waiting labor and delivery
room.
Dad makes a fresh pot of coffee while we all
wait. I pace the small room as my head fills with all the things
that can possibly go wrong. “Think positively, Son,” my Dad says as
he hands me a cup of black coffee.
“
I’m trying. There was
just so much blood,” I say, attempting to wipe the thought from my
head.
He says, “With a birth of a baby, there
usually is.”
“
It’s too soon. It’s too
early for the baby to come,” I whisper.
“
I think the baby may have
other plans,” he says as he sips his hot
coffee.
“
That’s what I’m afraid
of.”
I pace the room while the guys try to comfort
their wives. “What is taking so long?” I ask.
“
I don’t know, Robert,”
Sue says honestly.
Just then a nurse walk into the room wearing
a green surgical gown with a paper white mask hanging from around
her neck. We all stand and she asks, “The Grether
family?”
“
Did Leah delivery?” my
Mom asks.
“
No, not yet. She’s asking
for you all. You can see her briefly and the doctor will fill you
in on her status.”
This is good
news
, I think to myself as I follow the
nurse out of the room. Normally, I would follow behind everyone,
but tonight, I want to see Leah first. I’m scared and frightened
for her and for the baby. My mind drifts back to Leah delivering
and I can’t lose another child. I barely survived the loss of
Jamie. I know I won’t survive… I can’t even finish my thought. They
both have to be all right.
The nurse opens the door and the room fills
with the sound of a baby’s heartbeat coming from the monitor that’s
hooked up to Leah’s belly. I don’t have to see it to know what it
is. This is déjà vu from a few weeks ago. I try to hide the fear
from my face as I walk around the curtain to see Leah. I am
relieved to see that she isn’t in any pain and that she is resting
comfortably. It looks like she may even be sleeping.
The doctor is standing near the hospital bed
speaking to another nurse that is in the room. I don’t acknowledge
them as I make my way to be with Leah. I scan Leah from head to toe
taking note of the oxygen tube in her nose, IV and fluids in her
left hand, and the baby monitor connected to her belly. She also
has a blood pressure cuff attached to her right arm. The hospital
bed rails are up and Leah is covered to her waist with a white
hospital blanket. I hold her fragile hand in mine as I bend down to
kiss her.
“
How is she?” Tim
asks.
“
She’s resting
comfortably,” the doctor says. “She is in active labor and will be
delivering sometime today. We gave her epidural and that is why
she’s able to sleep.”
“
What’s an epidural?” Sue
asks.
“
It’s a local anesthetic
that will numb Leah from the waist down. We used it on her when she
delivered her first child and she asked for it again with this
child.” The doctor speaks clearly and slowly so that we all can
process his words. “Leah has dilated to four centimeters so she is
in active labor.”
“
She’ll deliver today?” I
ask.
He looks at his watch and says “It’s after
midnight, so yes. Leah will deliver sometime today.”
“
What about the baby? It’s
too soon,” Sue cries.
“
We have the N.I.C.U. on
standby. I have personally spoken to the Neonatal Intensive Care
Unit and they are preparing for the baby as we
speak.”
“
Oh, God,” Mom
cries.
I hold onto the bed railing to keep from
swaying. It is finally sinking in. Ready or not, this is it. “She’s
almost 30 weeks,” I say.
“
We know. We are giving
her medication to help build the baby’s lung capacity. We are very
optimistic the baby will be born healthy.”
“
But at 30 weeks?” Tim
asks.
“
Even at 30 weeks. Leah
has had excellent prenatal care and babies born a lot earlier have
survived. It’s crucial to stay optimistic for Leah’s sake. This
won’t be easy for her.”
“
We understand,” they say
in unison.
I look down at Leah when she squeezes my
hand. I smile when our eyes meet. “You’re here,” she
says.
“
I am. So we’re going to
have a baby, huh?” I bend down and kiss her. I want to sound happy,
although worried is a better word.
“
We are. I’m sorry. I did
everything I could…”
Sue interrupts and says, “Leah, this isn’t
your fault. She has other plans.”
“
That’s right, Leah,” Dr.
Fouch interjects. “This isn’t your fault.”
“
But I…,” Leah begins to
say.
I stroke Leah’s cheeks and wipe away her
tears and says, “Shh, you did nothing to cause
this.”
Leah
I close my eyes and cry. I feel responsible
for this. I feel like I failed Robert and this baby. I try to be
strong, but I can’t. It’s exhausting to pretend all is right in the
world, when it’s not. The black cloud is hovering, oh so close. I
feel like if I reached out for it, I could touch it.
Mom, Dad, Margie, and Walter are all here.
They try to be strong, but they have F.E.A.R. written all over
their faces. Losing Jamie was bad enough, but to lose her sister,
too, I won’t survive that. I already know it’ll be too much for me.
I barely survived Jamie’s death and Robert was in worse shape than
I was.
The doctor sounds hopeful, but it isn’t his
daughter he’s talking about. I’m thankful the medication makes me
sleepy. I don’t think I could pretend happiness today. If I’m not
sleeping, I’m praying, or I pretend to nap. I can hear the
conversations around me and everyone is concerned for this
baby.
The doctor wakes me so he can check my
cervix. When I first got here, he removed the stitch that he
inserted to close my cervix almost three weeks ago. I’m glad that
it worked for three weeks. Every day the baby remains inside me the
better it is for her. The steroids they are giving me is to help
with the baby’s lung development. I hope they work
quickly.
“
Well, Leah, you are now
dilated about six and a half centimeters.” The doctor says as he
stands to remove his gloves and wash his hands. “It shouldn’t be
long before you welcome your daughter into the world.”
Don’t say that. I want her to stay inside me as
long as she can.
“Do you have a name for
your daughter?”
I shake my head and Robert
says, “No, she doesn’t have a name, yet. We need to come up with
one for her.” Robert is sitting at the head of the bed and is
holding my hand. I close my eyes and pretend to
sleep
. I’m afraid to name her. I’m afraid
for her to be born so early. I’m scared of losing her.
My lips tremble and I still pretend to sleep. I
feel the tears slide down my cheek towards my ears. I move me head
slightly to wipe them off on the pillow before Robert sees
them.
“
Would
you all
mind going to the cafeteria
for a food run?” Robert asks. “I’m starving.”
I can hear Mom asking Dad and Walter to go
while they stay behind with me. I have my eyes closed so I can’t
see what’s going on.
“
Let’s all go, it’ll be
good to stretch our old bones,” Dad says.
I hear movement and then I
hear the door closed. I lie still and when I don’t hear anything I
wonder if Robert went with them. I peek one eye open and Robert is
very close to me staring. “Good morning, Sweets,” he says and I
squint my eyes closed tightly.
Might as
well open them, Leah. He’s already seen
you.
I open my eyes and fake a yawn for good
measure. “Good morning,” I finally say.
“
Is there something you
want to talk about?” he asks.
No, I want to keep all of
my fears to myself.
“Looks like we’ll be
parents sooner than we thought.” I try to sound happy, but my voice
cracks and the tears start to flow.
“
Oh, Leah. Don’t
cry.”
“
Robert, it’s too soon.
What if something happens to her?”
Good
job keeping my fears to myself. I know Robert will
understand.
“
Leah, listen to me.” I
wipe away my tears and look up at him. “You’re almost three weeks
further along than you were when your labor first started. The
doctor is giving you steroids to strengthen our daughter’s lungs.”
He smiles and I nod. “If he’s optimistic that our baby will be born
healthy, then we should be too. That heartbeat isn’t weak and
fragile, it’s strong and fierce. Our daughter is a
fighter.”
“
But what if…?” I begin to
say before Robert cuts me off mid-sentence.
“
What if she’s born
healthy and we don’t have a name for her? What if she doesn’t have
a name and we have to call her, She or Her, her entire
life?”
I laugh and Robert smiles his dimpled smile.
“But, what if…”
“
Okay, Ace. Point
taken.”
“
Does that mean we can
pick a name for our daughter?” he asks.
“
It does. Thank
you.”
“
Do you have any ideas?”
he asks. I shake my head, “I don’t. I wanted something to go with
Jamie and Madison, but nothing fit. I wish I knew Madison’s middle
name. Maybe we could build on that.
Our parents walk in with trays of food from
the cafeteria. Robert must have been hungry. “Good, looks who’s
up?” Margie says.
I smile when everyone smiles at me. “You’ve
been out of it all day. We were beginning to worry about you.”
Walter walks over and hugs me.
“
I’m just tired,” I lie.
“I’m sorry you worried,” I say because it’s the truth. I look over
at Robert and he is typing something into his cell
phone.
“
Sounds like it won’t be
long now,” Mom says. “I overheard your doctor talking to someone on
the phone. He was saying the baby had a very strong heartbeat and
to start getting ready for her arrival,” Mom says has she removes
the lids from the plates.
“
It must be someone from
the N.I.C.U.” I rest my hand on my belly and say a silent prayer
that she’ll be all right.
Robert
I finish my text to Gus and focus my
attention back to Leah. I know she is worried, hell, I am too. A
knock comes from the door before it slowly opens. I’m surprised
when Mason and Angel walk in. Mason looks shy to be here, but Angel
rushes over and hugs Leah. I can here Leah cry.
Mason says, “I’m sorry. We heard about Leah
being in active labor and Angel demanded we rush right
over.”
I shake Mason’s hand and say, “It’s always
good seeing you.”
“
How is she?” Mason
asks.
“
Scared,” I admit. “She’s
dilated between six and seven centimeters.”
“
It won’t be long, how are
you?”
“
Scared. Trying to keep it
together.”
Another knock comes from the door and a nurse
walks in. “I’m sorry, Mr. Grether. But there is a waiting room full
of people here for your wife and you. I wanted to let you know in
case you wanted to go out and talk to them.”
“
Oh, thank you. I wonder
who could be out there.”
Mason looks over at Angel who is in a deep
conversation with Leah and says, “Angel called everyone she knew on
the ride here. There’s no telling who is out there.”
“
We’ll go and talk to
them, Robert. You stay here and visit with Mason and
Angel.”
“
Thank you. I appreciate
that.”
When they all leave, Mason says, “Angel knew
Leah would be scared about the pre-term birth. Since we had twins
born prematurely, she thought she could ease some of Leah’s
fears.”
“
I hope so. Leah’s
terrified something will happen. After losing
Jamie…”
“
Say no more. That’s
understandable.”
We walk over to where Leah and Angel are and
Angel is telling her about her twin’s birth, how scared she and
Mason were and her experience with N.I.C.U. “I had to have an
emergency C-section and the twins were born so small. It was scary,
but now they are running around the house like healthy
three-year-olds.”
“
Thank you, we have been
so worried. I appreciate you guys coming, it means a lot to Robert
and me.”
Angel hugs Leah and stands from the bed and
then hugs me. “Does your baby have a name?” Angel
asks.
“
No, not yet,” Leah says
sadly.
Angel asks teasingly “Whatcha waiting
on?”
“
We want something that
goes with Jamie and Madison. It’s hard coming up with a girl’s
name,” Leah admits, but she doesn’t admit she was afraid to name
her.
“
Figure out a name for
your baby and we’ll be in the waiting room. If you need us, send
out a nurse.”
“
Thank you, Angel,” Leah
says.