“Anotherweek?” There was too much defeat in my tone to disguise it, as I slumpedback down into my chair.
“Iknow. He was getting ready for discharge soon, wasn’t he?”
“Theysaid it could be any day now.”
Iheard her sigh morosely. “Yeah, it’s so hard. The last few weeks are alwaysvery touch and go. But he’ll get there, Mama. I promise.”
Ithanked her and hung up. And although I knew she was right, and although I knewhe was in the best place he could be, I couldn’t help it as I laid my head onthe table and cried.
***
“Hey,Mama,” Elle said, a little less cheerfully than usual. “I heard our littlebuddybradiedtoday.”
Inodded, watching as my son slept soundly in his crib. It was hard to believethat just hours earlier, his heart had slowed and given the nurses a scare. Notwhen he seemed so peaceful now.
“Theytold me he’d be here at least another week,” I muttered, gripping the side ofhis plasticcriband wishing I was a stronger person.A stronger person wouldn’t be on the verge of crying.
“It’shard,” she sympathized, resting a hand on my shoulder. “I told you months ago,anything can happen here. One day, he’s fine, and the next, his heart ratedrops to fifty beats per minute. But I also told you he would go home, and hewill. That’s still happening. It’s just going take a little longer, but he willget there.”
Shesaid it so casually, like it was just par for the course and not a big deal atall, and I guess for her it wasn’t. For her, this was just another day at work.She had seen the worst cases, and my baby wasn’t one of them. But for me, itfelt like the end of the world, to have had his discharge day within my grasp,only to have it yanked out of reach without warning.
Again.
Shewalked off to tend to another baby and left me to sit alone with my sleepingson. He looked so quiet and peaceful, the thought of waking him up pained me,so I didn’t. I just sat there, holding his little hand, as another mom walkedin to stand beside the crib of a baby nearby.
Shereminded me of myself, all those months ago, as she shuffled in, wearing herhospital gown and booties. She looked exhausted and scared, like she didn’tquite know what to do. But I did. I’d been down that road before, so, I asked,“Hey, Mama. Do you need a chair?”
Sheturned to look at me, eyes sad but bewildered, and shook her head. “No, I’m …I’m okay,” she replied quietly. “I just wanted to see her before I went tosleep.”
Inodded, smiling. “Okay. Just let me know if you need anything.”
“Thanks.”
Iturned my attention back to my baby, still sleeping soundly, as if nothing hadhappened that morning. I wished so badly thatwasthecase, that I possessed the power to change it and to make him come home thenext day.
Then,a voice spoke again from beside me. “Is that your baby?”
Lookingback to the mother, I nodded. “Yeah.”
“What’shis name?”
“Alex,”I replied with a smile. “What’s your baby’s name?”
“Janelle,”she said, her eyes lighting up with pride. “She’s jaundice, so she has to behere for a few days.”
Inodded. “He was jaundice, too.”
Shesquinted her eyes, looking at Alex with inquisition. “How long have you beenhere?”
“Threemonths,” I replied without hesitation, and she blanched.
“Threemonths?!” she nearly shouted, clutching a hand to her gown-coveredheart. “Oh, my God, I’m so sorry. And I’m here, feeling sorry for myselfbecause my baby is only here for a few days.”
Ismiled reassuringly. “Whether you’re here for three months or three days, itdoesn’t make it any easier.”
Sheloosened her grip on her gown and nodded somberly, turning her attention backto her little girl. “They took her away before I could hold her, and I keepthinking it’s not supposed to be like that, you know?”
“Ido,” I replied, remembering how I didn’t get to hold Alex for a few weeks afterhe was born.
