Chapter 174
Two courses
of chemotherapy, a bone marrow transplant, cataract surgery, a broken arm,
needles in her arms, her thighs, her hips, her belly, and her spine…
All of
that, and this was the worst pain of Claire’s life.
She awoke
with the sensation that her belly was on fire.
It was so strong that, at first, it dominated all of her thoughts. Her mind felt cloudy, and only when she could
get a grip on the pain and focus did she remember where she was and why.
It all came
back to her in a stunning typhoon: the
labor, the C-section, the birth of her babies.
Two girls. One had come out
crying; the other had not. She
remembered the first baby’s cry vividly.
But that was all she knew. She
hadn’t seen either baby, and her memory went dark with the birth of the second.
What had
happened?? Where were they?? Where was Nick?
She looked
around and began to panic when she found herself in a hospital room all alone,
no one in sight. She needed answers, and
she needed pain meds. Fumbling for the
nurse call button that she knew must be somewhere nearby, she found that her
arm felt like concrete, so heavy she could barely lift it. Frustration quickly accompanied her
franticness, and tears started.
She hated
crying, but she was helpless to stop the rush of tears, driven by the raging
hormones and frenzied emotions of giving birth and not knowing where her babies
were.
How long
she lay there crying, she wasn’t sure, but suddenly, her mother was there by
her bedside, holding her hand, rubbing her shoulder, whispering the soothing
words only a mother could offer. “Shh,
sweetie, it’ll be alright,” she murmured.
“What’s the matter, baby? Are you
hurting?”
Claire nodded,
but when she opened her mouth, all that came out was, “Where are my babies?”
“They’re
both in the NICU. No one has let us see
them yet, but we talked to your nurse, and she said they’re both doing
alright. Let me hit your call button,
and we’ll get someone in here to talk to you.”
“I can’t
even move, I’m so tired,” mumbled Claire.
“And it hurts…”
“I
know. I know, honey. Your body’s been through a lot.”
“What
happened?” she asked. “I don’t remember
much after the babies came out.”
“The nurse
said there was some bleeding. The
C-section took longer than they expected, and they had to knock you out. But it’s okay now. They got everything under control, and your
brother and Nick both donated blood.”
“Nick
did?” The thought made her smile. “He was with me through the whole thing. He’s amazing…”
Her mother
smiled too. “He cares a lot about
you. He’s still here.”
“He is?”
“Uh-huh. I’m sure he’d like to come in and see you
when you’re up for it.”
Claire
nodded. “I just want to see the twins,”
she said.
“I know,
honey.”
“Have you
talked to Jamie?”
“Your dad
did. He knows that he has two daughters
and that you’re okay, but as soon as you’re feeling better, you should call
him. He’d rather hear from you.”
“I will… in
awhile.” She was just so tired right
now.
Footsteps
in the room attracted her attention, and she moved her head so that she could
see who was coming in. It was her nurse,
Aidyn, who smiled gently. “How are you
feeling, Claire?” she asked.
“Honestly,
awful,” mumbled Claire. “Can I have some
pain meds?”
“Of
course.” Aidyn injected her IV line with
something and then said, reassuringly, “It’s normal to feel some pain after a
C-section; people seem to forget it’s a major abdominal surgery. But we’ll get you up and moving later on
today, and you’ll be on the road to recovery.”
Getting up
and moving was the last thing Claire felt like doing at the moment, but she
couldn’t help but ask, “When can I see my babies? I still haven’t seen them yet. I need to see them… and name them…”
“I
know.” Aidyn patted her hand
gently. “It’s complicated in your
situation because we can’t bring the girls to you. Right now they’re in incubators in the NICU,
and they need to stay there. They’re
both on ventilators to help their breathing, which is very normal for preemies
this young, but because of that, we can’t move them. You’ll have to go to them.”
“Can I go
then?” She didn’t have a clue how she’d
get there, seeing as she could barely lift her hand, let alone haul her body
out of bed. But the urge in her was so
strong, she didn’t care. Somehow, she
would get there. Her stubborn streak had
flared, and she was determined.
“Your body
really needs time to rest and heal itself right now. Try and get some sleep, and I promise I’ll
take you to the NICU first thing in the morning.”
“No,
please,” Claire begged. “I won’t be able
to sleep until I see them, not unless you knock me out again, and I don’t want
you to do that. I need to see my babies. Please.”
Aidyn must
have been used to the power of maternal instinct, because it didn’t take much
protesting to get her to agree.
“Alright,” she relented, “we can wheel your bed into the NICU for a few
minutes, if you’re feeling up to it.”
“Please,
yes. I’m up for it.” She was starting to feel better already,
less groggy and in less pain, although she did have the loopy sensation of
floating one got from heavy pain medication.
But the determination to see her babies was keeping her coherent and
focused.
“All
right. Let me find an orderly to help me
move the bed, and we’ll go to NICU,” Aidyn promised.
When she
left, Claire’s mother squeezed her hand and smiled. Claire returned the smile. “Will you come with me to see them?” she
asked.
“You know I
would love to,” her mother beamed, delighted that she had offered. “After all, they’re my granddaughters. I can’t wait to lay my eyes on them.”
The
anticipation looming, Claire inhaled slowly and exhaled, releasing an anxious
sigh. “Neither can I.”
***
Claire
could scarcely breathe as they wheeled her bed gently through the doors marked
NICU. Her heart had lodged in her
throat, and her breath seemed trapped in her chest, making it tight with
bottled anticipation. She felt as if she
would burst any second.
Her head
was almost too heavy to lift, yet when she did, she felt light-headed, so she
tried to get a good look at the incubators that slowly passed by from her
pillow. Which ones held her babies? It was sad to think she wouldn’t recognize
them, but she hadn’t even seen them yet, not once.
But when
she got within a few feet of the two incubators, even before the bed slowed to
a stop, even before she saw the nametags that read Turner, Baby Girl A
and Turner, Baby Girl B, she knew.
Call it maternal instinct, but she knew that these were her newborns.
“Claire,
meet your daughters,” Aidyn said sweetly as she parked the hospital bed between
the pair of incubators and raised the head a bit more so that she could see
inside them better.
Claire took
in a shaky breath as she peered into one of the incubators. Inside was a baby so small, she could hardly
believe it. But this was her daughter,
one of the creatures who had been growing inside of her for the last seven
months. It was the first time she had seen
her in living color, and Claire relished in it, hardly blinking as she took in
every detail. Her daughter’s skin was
not baby pink, but red and wrinkled and covered with a soft, downy layer of
hair. A pale pink stocking cap covered
her tiny head. Her eyes were closed, her
mouth and nose hidden behind the hose of the ventilator. Her limbs were exposed, and Claire couldn’t
believe how skinny they were. Her arm
was the size of Claire’s index finger, her tiny hand hardly bigger than
Claire’s thumb. And yet, even in its
smallness, there was perfection – five little fingers on each hand, five round
little toes on each foot. The sight made
her eyes well up with tears.
It was with
blurred vision that she turned painfully to the other incubator and looked
inside. Blinking her tears away, she
found herself gazing at an almost identical sight. Her second-born was just as tiny, if not more
so, and looked no different than her twin – just as red and wrinkled and
scrawny, and just as beautiful. Wishing
she could hold them both in her arms right now, Claire settled for kissing her
own fingertips and pressing them against the plastic barrier of each incubator
in turn.
“They’re
beautiful,” her mother finally spoke up, sounding tearful. “Two little miracles.”
And Claire
nodded, remembering all that she had been through to have them. These two little girls had been a work in
progress for six years, ever since she’d had the procedure to preserve the eggs
from which they were conceived. The odds
had been against them through it all – the in-vitro fertilization, the
selective reduction, her complicated pregnancy and premature labor. But here they were. Too small, too young, but alive nonetheless,
both of them. They were miracles.
“Are you
ready to name them yet?” her mother asked next.
“I don’t want my granddaughters to be referred to as ‘Baby A’ and ‘Baby
B’ Turner.”
Claire
smiled, her mind again conjuring up the names she and Jamie had chosen weeks
ago. “Yes. This is Caitlin,” she said, touching the
incubator that held her firstborn, formerly ‘Baby A.’ “Caitlin Patrice… for Jamie’s dad.”
Her mother
nodded, a smile gracing her lips.
“And this,”
continued Claire, reaching out to the second incubator, the one in which her
second baby slept, “is Delaine. Delaine
Ryann.”
Her
mother’s smile grew. “Your dad will
appreciate that.”
Claire
smiled too. “We wanted them to represent
both sides of their family,” she murmured.
And all of a sudden, the rush of longing came, as she thought back to
the late-night talks she’d shared with Jamie, laying in bed with his head on
her belly, feeling the babies kick and dreaming of the future. “I wish Jamie was here…”
Her mother
pursed her lips tightly and nodded, taking her hand. “I know.
But he will be. Caitlin and Delaine
just had poor timing.”
Claire
smiled sadly, looking between the two infants.
Poor timing indeed. With their
being so young, the deck was still stacked against it. She only hoped they were strong enough to
overcome all of the odds.
***