Never Giving Up (Never #3)(60)
“She may be tiny, but she’s strong like her mother.” Ella’s hands came to cover my own and we stood there, watching Mattie sleep.
“It’s funny because this is what babies do, right? They sleep. That’s pretty much all she’s done since she’s been born. So why, now that I know she’s sick, the more she sleeps the more nervous I am? What if the whole time she’s been alive, she’s been ill?” Ella’s hands left mine and wrapped around her middle. “What kind of mother doesn’t notice when her baby is sick?”
“Hey.” I wrapped my arms around her chest, hugging her from behind, bringing her closer into me. “You did notice she was sick. That’s how she got here. You’ve done everything right, Ella. Kids get sick, right?”
“No, kids get colds and the flu. Babies don’t get blood infections, Porter.”
“You can’t beat yourself up over this, Babe. This could have happened to anyone. You heard the doctor, you brought her in at the right time. She’s going to be fine.”
“I know she is,” she said softly, surprising me.
“You do?”
“She has to be.”
I pressed a kiss against her temple because I couldn’t argue with her.
Our new hospital room reminded me a lot of the room we’d spent two days in after Mattie was born. Same uncomfortable half-bed that was disguised as a bench seat. The same box TV hanging from the ceiling, same hospital smell. The only difference was that there wasn’t a bed. There was a crib, but it actually resembled more of a cage. It was taller than me and really did become a cage if you raised up the only movable side all the way. It was everything we’d worked so hard to avoid at home. It was cold and hard and uncomfortable. It was stale and flat. It wasn’t soothing and warm, or soft, or loving. It was clinical and it served a purpose.
My mother had been with us nearly all day, but when visiting hours were up, she had to go. She promised she’d be back in the morning and she promised she’d bring me coffee; her small way of trying to make this awful situation not as unbearable and I loved her for it. Porter went to grab us some dinner from the cafeteria and I was left alone with Mattie in another hospital room, but this time the happy baby haze was missing. I wasn’t busy falling in love with a little person I’d just met. No, instead I was trying to think of any way I could help heal the little person I’d already fallen madly in love with.
I stood next to her crib, watching her breathe, obsessively making sure she took her next breath. I’m not sure exactly what I’d do if she stopped breathing, but I knew I’d be the first person to notice and find someone to help her. I had a contingency plan for almost any scenario I could think of. I would fix her if it was the last thing I did. I had to.
Slowly I watched as she started stretching, a normal baby thing to do. Only, she couldn’t lift her right arm because it was wrapped so heavily with the gauzy fabric that kept her I.V. from coming out. It didn’t seem to bother her that she was restrained—she’d spent nine months in a cramped belly, so I assumed she was used to it by now. Her little mouth opened in a toothless yawn and she was all gums. I gave a small laugh and a smile to see her be so babyish while experiencing something no baby should have to endure.
“Hi, Sweetie,” I cooed at her, brushing the hair on her head with my hand, relishing in the feeling of her silky baby locks on my skin. “This is a pretty silly way to get my attention.” I sniffled when I realized I had started to cry softly. I reached into her crib and started to unwrap her from her blanket, finding the diapers and wipes the nurse had supplied us with. “If you wanted some alone time, I could have sent Daddy to work on his boat.” I continued to talk to her as I mindlessly changed her diaper, something that had become second nature to me now. When she was all changed and wrapped back up, I carefully picked her up, minding all her wires, and sat down in the one chair in the room to feed her.
“The problem with Daddy, though, is that he never takes no for an answer. You can try to send him away but he never really leaves. Once he’s made up his mind, once he’s decided to hang around and help you get your car started even though you tried to tell him time and again that you had it under control, well, Sweetie, he just never seems to give up.” Her little fist was wrapped around my finger and I brought her sweet little hand to my mouth and pressed a kiss against her fingers. “If there’s one thing I learned from your daddy, Mattie, it’s that he always fights. Always. He sets his mind on something and he is persistent. He winds his way into your life and makes himself so vitally important to you that you forget that you ever were happy without him. That’s exactly what you’ve done to me, Mattie. You’ve wiggled your cute little, tiny, baby butt right into my heart, and I’ll be damned if I’m going to give you up without a fight.”
I used her soft, pink blanket to wipe an errant tear that escaped. “So, you promise you’re going to put up a fight and I promise I’m going to fight for you too. Okay?”
“Can I get in on this?” I turned to see Porter standing in the doorway, a tray full of cafeteria food in his hands. He put the tray down on the counter and walked over to us, kneeling next to our chair, and I watched in wonder as he bent down and kissed Mattie’s head gently while I nursed her. The image took my breath away and had we not been in a hospital room, surrounded by beeping monitors and crib-cages, I might have thought it a wonderful moment. It was still memorable, but more so because it was sad, not the beautifully moving moment it would have been had it been experienced in our warm bed or in the rocking chair I purchased with exactly this moment in mind.