A Different Blue(116)

The lights came back on with a whir, and the three of us breathed out in unison.

[page]“The hospital has generators. Don't you worry.” The nurse tried for lightness, but her

eyes shifted to the door, and I could tell she was wondering what else the night would bring. “

That must be some storm.” She swished back out the door with promises to be right back.

I thought of Tiffa at an airport in Reno and immediately pushed the thought away. She would

come, she would make it. There would be someone to hold my baby. Someone had to hold her. I

wouldn't be able to. The thought brought ice to my veins and dread pooling in my chest. Tiffa

and Jack needed to be there, ready with open arms to swoop up my child and take her immediately

away.

Pain drove the thought from my head, the more immediate misery taking my attention from thoughts

of Tiffa and my child. Twenty minutes passed, then twenty more. The nurse did not return nor did

the anesthesiologist. Then the pain reached a crescendo. Giant cascading waves threatened to

tear me in half. I writhed in agony and clutched at Wilson, desperate for reprieve.

“Tell me what I can do, Blue. Tell me what to do,” Wilson insisted quietly. I had settled into

silence, my energy and focus drawn into the narrowest pin-prick of light, caught in the

seemingly never-ending cycle of pain and pardon, unable to find words. I just shook my head and

clung to his hand. He swore violently and rose from my bedside with a jerk, his stool clattering

across the floor. He eased my fingers from his hand, and I whimpered my dismay as he turned

toward the door. He crossed the room in long strides, and yanked the door open. Then I heard

him, his voice raised, demanding assistance in very, very impolite terms. I was so proud and

ridiculously touched that I almost laughed, but the laugh caught in my throat, and I screamed

instead. My body shook and the pressure in my legs was overpowering. The need to push was so

intense that I acted without thought. I screamed again, and my door slammed open and Wilson, his

hair a wild, curling mess, along with a horrified nurse came flying into the room.

“Doctor's on his way! Doctor's on his way!” the nurse babbled, her eyes growing wide as she

positioned herself between my drawn up legs. “Don't push!”

Wilson was instantly at my side, and I turned my face to him once more, unable to stop the

ripples of pressure that sought to expel my child. The door slammed again as the nurse left the

room and bellowed down the hallway for reinforcements. All at once I was surrounded – another

nurse, a doctor, someone else was hovering by the incubator on wheels.

“Blue?” The doctor's voice seemed far away, and I struggled to focus on his face. Brown eyes

met mine as I bore down helplessly. “It's time to push, Blue. It won't be long 'til your baby

is here.”

My baby? Tiffa's baby. I shook my head. Tiffa wasn't here yet. I bore down once more, pushing

through the pain. Then again. And again. And again. I don't know how long I pushed and pleaded

with God for it to be over. I lost count in the haze of pain and exhaustion.

“Just a little more, Blue,” the doctor urged. But I was too tired. I didn't think I could do

it. It hurt too much. I wanted to float away.

“I can't,” I croaked. I couldn't. I wouldn't.

“You're the bravest person I know, Blue,” Wilson whispered into my hair. His hands cradling my