“MaybeI should call. Or I could ask one of the ladies in the NICU, right? They wouldknow.”
“I’msure if something was wrong, they’d let you know,” he replied softly,reassuringly, and I nodded, releasing a quivering breath.
“Yeah,”I said, continuing to nod as I glanced at the wall clock for the thousandthtime. “Yeah, you’re probably right.”
Ipaced again and again and again, until Goose groaned and shot a glare in mydirection. “Kenny, you’regonnagive me a coronary,okay? Come here, sit down and relax.”
“Ican’t relax!”
“Well,then just come and sit down.”
Likea child who had just been scolded, I slogged my way back to the seat beside himand dropped into it. I turned my gaze back to the clock, and with my legsjouncing and my nerves twitching with anxiety, I cursed the person who thoughtit’d be a good idea to put a clock in the waiting room of a hospital.
“Iwasn’t there when my daughter was born,” he said abruptly, picking at thechipped paint on the arm of his chair. “I was in rehab when I had gotten that call.”
Iglanced at him, not quite knowing what to say. So, I only nodded, unsure ifhe’d continue or not, until he began to speak again.
“So,itkindafelt special to me, to be here when Alex wasborn. I mean, not that I don’t feel close to Hannah or anything, but it’skindacool that, maybe one day, I’ll be able to tell himthe story of where I was when he came into the world, you know? And that I wasscared shitless for him and his mom, and that it was one of the best moments inmy life, when I learned you were both alive.”
Therewasa brief momentof calm as I smiled and tipped myhead against his shoulder. “I’m glad you came,” I said.
“Yeah,so am I,” he replied, resting his head against mine.
Afew minutes later, one of the nurses came to get us. She said that Alex was outof surgery and was doing great. Before I’d let her continue, I asked eagerly ifwe could see him and she nodded with a smile.
“Butonly for a few minutes. He really needs to rest,” she mentioned, and that wasokay with me. Because as much as he needed to sleep, so did I.
Wewere ushered into the NICU, where we found anisolettein his usual spot. The nurse explained to me that, during the healing process,he’d be in theisolettebefore moving back into hiscrib. Alex was sprawled out in nothing but a diaper, with the old familiartubing of a ventilator fed through his lips. Surprised by this, I turned to thenurse and asked how long he’d have to be intubated again, and she assured me itshould only be for a few days as he recovered. Relief washed over me like agentle, cleansing rain, and I touched the plastic separating me from my son.
“I’llsee you later, baby boy. I’m so proud of you,” I whispered, before turning toGoose and saying,” Let’s go to bed.”
Chapter Thirty-Six
Fromthe moment he was born, Alexander Wright was a warrior, and two days after hishernia surgery, he was off the ventilator and back to his oxygen cannula.
Aweek later, as I changed his diaper, I could hardly tell that he’d had surgeryat all.
“Hisincisions look so good,” I told Elle.
“Iknow, right? They did a good job.”
Thecompliment sent me back, to right after my own surgery. The emergency cesareanI’d had done only a few months before. It was a moment I thought I had forgotten,but there it was, vivid and like it had just happened. I recalled Dr. Albrechtpulling my blanket down and my gown up, to inspect the fresh wound just abovemy groin. She had made mention that the surgeons had done a good job, while Ilaid in bed, wishing they had never needed to do it at all.
Iinhaled sharply, bringing myself back to reality. I looked at Elle and agreed.
Theyhad done a good job. Every single one of them.
***
Anothercouple of weeks went by, and I walked into the NICU one day wielding my freezerbag of tiny amounts of milk. Debbie spotted me and grinned, before running toAlex’s bed and presenting him to me with a flourish of her arms.
“Something’sdifferent!” she exclaimed, and when Itook a lookathim, it was very obvious what that something was.
Nomore cannula.
Nomore oxygen.
Ihad been so worried about him being on the oxygen for an extendedperiod of time, even beyond the NICU. I was so afraid I’d dosomething to screw things up, to hurt him, or hinder his progress and growth.But now, with his fresh face staring up at me, wearing the faintest of smilesand recognition in his eyes, I teared up and thanked Christ for giving me yetanother reason to believe in miracles.
