“Mr. and Mrs. Gerard?”
Jackson turned as Spence walked out in his scrubs.
“Yes,” they said in unison as Spence approached.
“They’ve stabilized Alyssa,” he said, and her parents sagged against each other. Tears flowed down Teresa’s cheeks.
“But . . .” her father said, seeing the distress on Spence’s face.
“But we had to deliver the baby. It’s a girl,” he said, and he took a breath.
“Is . . . is she alive?” Teresa asked, a shudder racking her body.
“She’s in critical condition. She was born three months early so her heart’s not fully developed, and that places her at risk for a lot of complications. Alyssa won’t be awake for some time, and I need to go in immediately and try to stabilize the baby’s heart. I’ll need to have permission to do this.”
“Can’t it wait for Alyssa to wake up? I don’t want to make a wrong decision,” Teresa said, shaking in her husband’s arms.
“I’m afraid that if we wait, the baby won’t live long enough for her mother to meet her.” Spence spoke with confidence, clearly laying out the situation.
“What are the risks?” Donald asked.
“The risks are that the infant won’t make it off the table. She only weighs two pounds three ounces right now. She’s tiny and she isn’t fully formed, but she is fighting, just like her mother. If we can stabilize her heart, keep her in the NICU, I think she stands a real chance.”
Spence waited for Alyssa’s parents to process what he’d just told them.
“Do whatever you can,” Donald finally said. He moved to a chair and pulled his wife into his arms as she collapsed against him.
“I’ll have the nurse bring you the papers to sign.”
Without saying another word, Spence made eye contact with Jackson. Jackson could see clearly what his brother was telling him. Spence would fight with all he had to keep this child alive. Jackson nodded his thanks, struggling against the pressure building up in his chest. The waiting room was deathly silent.
The next few hours were going to decide the rest of their lives.
Pain radiated from just about every imaginable spot on Alyssa’s body. She was afraid to open her eyes—what if it made the pain get worse? And anyway, if she opened her eyes, she would have to face whatever news the doctors had for her.
Someone was speaking to her. Someone knew she was awake. She could hear the monitors buzzing, and she could hear voices whispering in her dark world. No. She would just refuse to look. If she managed not to look, this was nothing more than a bad dream.
But her fingers twitched. She wanted desperately to lift her hands and feel her stomach, to assure herself that her baby was still safe inside her body. But without lifting them, without feeling the bump that was supposed to be on her body, she knew beyond any doubt that the baby wasn’t there. She couldn’t feel the infant, couldn’t feel movement, couldn’t feel his or her heart beating inside her.
Tears leaked from her eyes.
No. She wouldn’t open her eyes. She wouldn’t face this day. If they told her that her child had died, she would give up the fight altogether—she wouldn’t care about her own life anymore. She just couldn’t lose a baby she’d grown so fond of, couldn’t let her child go before she’d even had a chance to hold it close to her heart. What cruel world would allow her to live while taking an innocent child?
“Alyssa, baby. Are you awake?”
That was her mother, and her tone bespoke so much anguish. That only confirmed to Alyssa that she couldn’t wake up and face whatever they wanted to tell her.
“Alyssa, please wake up. Please open your eyes.”
She wanted so much to assure her mother that she was okay. But she wasn’t okay, so how could she look into her mother’s eyes and lie to her?
“Alyssa. Come on. Wake up so we can tell you about your daughter.”
This time Jackson spoke. What was he doing here? Wasn’t he supposed to be in Alaska? It must be worse than she thought if he’d flown all the way back so soon. Or maybe she’d been in a coma. Maybe months had passed. A ray of hope shot through her. Maybe she’d delivered a healthy baby. But why would she hurt so much if that much time had passed?
But they said they wanted to tell her about her daughter. Jackson’s words finally registered. Jackson wouldn’t be so cruel as to say something like that if her baby wasn’t still alive.
A girl. She had a baby girl!
Slowly, Alyssa’s eyes opened, and she was grateful that the lighting in her room was dim. She turned her head and focused on her mother, who was sitting right beside her and holding her hand.
“Mama?” she croaked, her voice weak.
“Hi, baby girl,” Teresa said through her tears. “You don’t know how good it is to see your eyes open.” She rested her cheek against Alyssa’s for a brief moment.
“My baby?” That was all she cared about.
“You have a strong, beautiful daughter, Alyssa. She’s tiny, but she’s alive,” Teresa said, her lips forming a smile.
“Really?” Alyssa didn’t know whether she could believe her mom. Wouldn’t a mother say anything to get her daughter to fight for her own life?
“She’s alive, Alyssa,” Jackson said. “Spence performed surgery yesterday. He’s the best in his field. She came through the surgery beautifully, and she’s a fighter.” He wore a proud smile.
“Surgery? Why would a baby need surgery?” she asked, fear a constant inside her.
“There was a problem with her heart, but he fixed her, and her vitals are good,” he said.
“Have you seen her?
“Yes! She is so beautiful, just like her mother.”
Alyssa finally allowed herself to believe them, to hope that everything would be okay. She knew there was a long road ahead of them, but she felt a stirring of hope.
“Can I see her?” That’s all she wanted.
“Oh, baby. I know you want to see her,” Teresa said. “But you have to stay in bed right now, and she can’t leave the neonatal ICU. I have pictures because I knew you’d want to look at her.” She pulled up her phone and held it close for Alyssa to see.
Alyssa’s tears fell in rivers; why did her first view of her child have to be on a piece of glass? She needed to hold her, care for her. “She’s so small,” she gasped, running her finger across the screen.