Never Giving Up (Never #3)(57)
“Yes,” I replied, not taking my eyes off of Mattie.
“Do you want to come with me to get a glass of water?”
My head snapped in her direction, immediately put on guard by her request.
“No. I’m fine right here.”
“I know it’s hard to watch, Sweetie. Let’s just take a walk.” She put her hand on my arm, gently trying to lead me away from the window, but I wouldn’t budge.
“Your baby is fine,” she said, trying to placate me.
“Her name is Mattie.”
“Mattie is a strong little baby. Most babies that we see come here in her condition don’t fight us at all. It’s a good sign that she’s crying. I know it hurts your heart, but it’s a good sign.”
I felt more tears welling up in my eyes at her words. Again, she placed her hand on my shoulder gently and turned me so my back was to the window. I allowed her to turn me, but wasn’t going to move away from the window. The nurse then put her arms around me and started whispering in my ear.
“You have to be strong for her, Momma. If you’re upset, it upsets her. I know it’s scary right now, but trust that the doctor knows best how to take care of her and be strong for your baby.” She pulled away and gave me a small smile. “I’m going to go get you some water.”
I stood there as she walked away from me, watching her disappear down the hallway. I wondered if she had any children. I wondered how she would be reacting if it were her baby being poked and prodded in that examination room. I knew she was just trying to get me to calm down, but there was a smug part of me that gloried in the idea that very few people could truly understand what I was going through in that moment, and I’d be damned if someone was going to tell me how to react.
I turned back to the window, and saw that the nurses were trying now to get a needle into her hands where there’d been warmers on them. I made an instant decision and pushed the door open, walking past all the nurses and doctors and made my way to stand closest to Mattie’s head.
I started by gently smoothing the baby-fine hair on her head and whispering to her.
“Mommy’s here, Baby. I’m here, Sweetie.” Mattie calmed almost immediately at my words, only letting out slight whimpers. I kept my voice soft and soothing, trying not to cry as I told her how much her daddy and I loved her. I just wanted her to know I was there. She hadn’t been out of my sight since the moment she was born and I didn’t feel like now, of all times, was when we should be separated. I watched the nurses give me strange looks, as if I’d crashed their party, but I didn’t care. She was my baby and I was going to be with her, wherever she was.
For nearly ten more excruciating minutes I watched as the nurses failed miserably at trying to find one of her veins. She’d been poked in every available part of her body.
“Should we try the frontal vein?” One of the nurses asked the doctor. Before she could answer I interjected.
“What is that?”
“The vein that runs down the middle of the forehead,” the nurse responded almost robotically.
“Absolutely not,” I stated. “She’s been poked enough for now.”
“It really would benefit everyone if we got a line in,” Dr. Bailey said, trying to convince me.
“Is it necessary?”
“She will need bloodwork, yes.”
“No, I mean, is it necessary that you take her blood right here, right now? Is it vital?”
Dr. Bailey watched me closely, her lips pressed firmly together. Then I saw her shoulder relax. “No, it isn’t vital.”
“I want this whole procedure halted. Let her rest. They can try again at the hospital.” I heard my voice and I sounded firm. I sounded like I was in control. It was exactly the opposite of what I was feeling. Dr. Bailey nodded and moved back, as did all the nurses in the room. I picked Mattie up and pressed her to me again, swaying back and forth. She started rooting around and I breathed a sigh of relief to see that she was hungry. “Would it be ok if everyone left so I could nurse her?”
“Sure,” Dr. Bailey said softly. “I’ll alert you when the pediatric ambulance gets here.” After her words, she left along with everyone else, and I was left in a room with just Mattie and me.
“Sweet baby,” I said as I situated her at my breast. I spent ten glorious minutes alone with her, cherishing what I considered might be our last quiet moments alone for quite a while. “I’m going to take care of you, Sweet Girl. I promise.”
When I heard a soft knock on the door, I knew it was time to go. Mattie had fallen asleep as she ate and it hurt my heart to remove her from me. I tried to hold the tears back, but it was impossible. When the door opened, a softer Dr. Bailey stepped in and spoke quietly.
“The ambulance is here. You can either ride with them or you can follow behind.”
“I’ll ride with her.”
She nodded and led me back to the original examination room and helped me pack and get everything together. When the EMTs showed up with a gurney, I tried again, unsuccessfully, to hold it together, but still a few tears managed to make trails down my face. I watched as they strapped her car seat to the gurney and then one of them nodded at me.
“Follow us,” he said. And so I did.
We walked through the clinic and I felt like I was in a dream. I saw everyone’s eyes follow the gurney, see the car seat on top, see my baby, and I felt their pitiful stares. I knew, if I’d just been a person in that waiting room and had seen a tiny baby being wheeled out on a gurney, it would have broken my heart. I would have looked at the mother and felt so sorry for her. I felt that. I felt people looking at me like the worst thing in the world was happening to me.