Against the Odds (Fighting to Survive #2)(35)
“Hi, Momma’s little girl,” I say as I get closer to them. Nurse Amy stands and hands Gracie to me. Robert clears his throat and I say, “I mean, Hi, Momma and Daddy’s little girl.”
“Thank you,” he says.
“You’re welcome.”
“She’s hungry, so you are just on time for her feeding,” Nurse Amy says.
I hand Robert the baby so I can get ready to nurse Gracie. She is still tiny but latches on quickly. I miss the bonding with her when I’m not here to feed her. I pump my breasts often so Gracie always has breast milk for her feedings. Robert also gets to be included in her feedings and I know he needs time to bond with her, too.
The more time that goes by, the less time Gracie needs to be in her incubator. Robert still likes to keep her in there as often as we can when we visit. I know he thinks it’ll speed the process up and she’ll get to come home sooner. I personally think that bonding with her, holding her and showering her with love will do just as much good if not more.
Robert winds up Jamie’s music box and I sing along softly to the music. I rock Gracie back and forth as I feed her. Even though she was born prematurely, she still has long thick eyelashes. I stare at her as they fan across her cheek and sadly she looks nothing like Jamie did. Since they are siblings, it would be nice to compare them with the other. But since she was switched at birth, we don’t have that option. I still remember what Jamie looked like as an infant. I never questioned her lighter hair. I always said she had her own looks, she didn’t have to resemble me or Robert. Now, as I hold Gracie, I wonder what Madison looked like as a baby. She looks like a combination of Robert and I now. I imagine she and Gracie would look a lot alike.
Once Gracie burps and Robert holds her for a brief time, he stands to put her back in her bed.
“Would you mind if we just held her for awhile?”
“I think she would do better in the incubator.”
“Just long enough to read her a story from Jamie’s bedtime book,” I plead. I don’t look at him, I reach into my bag for Jamie’s book instead. I am watching him through the corner of my eyes as he stands there pondering my words. I get the book from my bag and Robert sits back down with Gracie. I smile as I take her from him. “Thank you,” I say as I stand to change her diaper.
“I just want her to get well enough to come home,” he says a little too sadly.
“I know. I do, too. But I think family bonding will do her better than being isolated.” I nod to the cold, sterile incubator.
“Maybe you’re right.”
Once the baby is changed and swaddled, I sit beside Robert in the rocker and wait for him to read. Gracie doesn’t cry; she lies awake and looks around at the bright lights in the room. For Robert to be a big man he has a very calming voice. He looks over several times as he reads and watches Gracie. She falls asleep before the story is over and he says, “She’s just like Jamie.”
I laugh because Jamie never stayed awake to hear the ending of any story. Just when the book was getting to the good part, she would fall asleep. He reads until the end and then helps me to get her settled for the night. The hospital has recently started letting her wear some of her own clothes. She only has a few preemie outfits and even those are too big for her.
On the way home from the hospital, Robert and I stop by the bookstore first. Since Gracie’s birth, he is back to working out every day. I spend my time at the hospital and stop in at the shop daily. Gracie is doing very well and is steadily gaining weight. Just not fast enough for me. I want her home and I want to move forward with Madison. I know Robert speaks to Bruce regularly about her, but he rarely shares anything with me. I also know he thinks he is protecting me, but I am stronger than he gives me credit for. I keep telling myself when the time is right I’ll bring it up and ask him about her.
Robert and I walk hand in hand into the bookstore. A few patrons are sitting at the bistro table sipping on their coffee with a book in hand. The women see me and smile, but when they look at Robert their smiles get bigger. When we walk past them, I can almost feel that they are staring at us. Robert holds the door open for me and I look over at them. Sure enough, they are watching my Robert. The smell of cinnamon buns fills the air. I think I will always find comfort in the aroma of cinnamon. It will always feel like home, and this is home. Dove and Bethany are at the counter. “May I please have just ONE cinnamon bun?” Robert pleads.
“Do you want to lose your fight with Kennedy?” I ask. I don’t wait for him to answer, I don’t need to. “Well, there’s your answer. Beat Kennedy and I’ll buy you a dozen, but until then, eat a carrot stick,” I tease.
“That doesn’t even compare.”
We hug Bethany and Dove and chat with them about the shop and business. They ask about the baby, and they also ask about the upcoming fight with Kennedy. I guess since I am no longer pregnant that means I am not as fragile. They’re right. The black cloud has moved further away from me. I can still see it, but it no longer hovers, as it did not so long ago. I’m not thrilled about Robert fighting, but I have come to accept it.
Bethany tells me what’s been going on in the shop while I was away.
“Yesterday a woman came up to the counter with several diet books. I joked, ‘Would you like a cinnamon bun with that?’
“The woman replied, ‘No, thank you. Yesterday I had four of those, and today my belly is swelled up. I think I’m allergic to cinnamon. Give me four chocolate-chip cookies instead.’