Then there is Sinclair, who barely leaves my bedside.
He looks exhausted as he sits here tonight, breaking open the hundredth container of takeout we’ve eaten together over the past weeks. I want to tell him to go sleep in a comfy bed instead of the futon sofa in the corner of this room or to go grab a decent shower. But I’m too selfish. He makes me feel anchored, like I won’t float away into the abyss while he’s here.
“You doing okay, baby?”
He strokes my hair, and I lean into the touch. It’s been so long since he could properly hold me.
I remove the oxygen mask from over my face. “I’m just sad. I never thought I’d be this upset during the days or weeks before I brought our son into the world. This just puts a damper on everything. And … I thought we’d have more time. We only just got back together. After this is over, we won’t have much time for us.”
Sinclair covers my hand with both of his. “Hey, don’t say that. I know it will be an adjustment, but being a family will be even better than being just the two of us. This baby, our son, will only enhance our lives. Our love. I’m still head over heels for you, that’s not something you need to worry about being a constant.”
Gulping, I try to calm my overanxious nerves. “And the nursery, we don’t have anything set up! We’re just going to bring a baby home to an empty room?”
Again, Sin just smiles like this is the calmest situation in the world. “Hannah and Colleen are breaking down boxes and setting us up with the most tricked out of all nurseries as we speak.”
“They are?” I blink.
“Of course. That’s what family does.” He nods.
Family. That’s what they’re doing for me.
I’m just hoping I can keep my own little family safe.
“I knew. I felt it for weeks, that something wasn’t right. But I chose to ignore it. What kind of mother does that?” I choke out a sob, and tears begin to fall down my cheeks.
“A first time mother who doesn’t know what to look for, that’s who. One who is determined in her work, and thinks her body can overcome all obstacles, because it’s always been able to. None of this is your fault. It’s just how your body worked with your placenta. That’s what the doctor’s said, you know this.”
He leans over me, gathering as much of my body as he can in his arms, and I try to imagine us out of this hospital room. My mind drifts to his big king bed and getting lost under the eight-hundred-thread count sheets with him. I drown out the noise of the beeping machines and try to get myself in a headspace of calm and happiness.
“Don’t you remember what I told you? I won’t let anything bad happen to our son,” Sinclair whispers in my ear. “It’s us against the world.”
How do I deserve this man? He’s been my champion these past few weeks. If I didn’t already know he was going to be a great dad, this would have proven it.
“I’m sorry we argued, it was so dumb and irrational, and—”
Sin presses a finger to my lips. “Hush. None of that matters anymore. We were upset and confused by those complete morons coming into my house.”
“Who the fuck does that, by the way? Whoops, sorry little guy.” I smooth my hands over my belly as if the baby could or comprehend my curse word.
“People who are too far gone in their addiction. Who don’t realize the wonders life can hold when you get your shit on track and find out what really makes everything worth it. I used to be like them.” He pulls back, and I know he’s thinking about that night.
“And now you’re my rock. My everything. You’re what makes all of this worth it. And our son. I love you.”
It’s my turn, for the split second I can muster it, to be brave. I know in the coming days I’ll have to gather all the courage I can. What we’re about to go through could rip us to shreds depending on the outcome.
“I love you. I promise, I won’t let anything bad happen.”
Sinclair sounds so sure, so sincere, that I almost believe his words have the magic to make that sentiment come true.
40
Sinclair
Colleen was the one visiting with Frankie when she went into labor, and I was the boyfriend on the phone about to die in a car crash.
Fitting, how a car crash somewhat started the ball rolling in my life to get me to this point.
But with the speed I was going to get to the hospital, even though the nurse told Colleen it would probably be hours before my son arrived, it’s a miracle I’m here in one piece.
I wind through the halls, knowing this place like the back of my hand at this point. I probably look insane, but then again, these doctors and nurses have seen far worse.
Finally, I make it to her room, where I’ve spent much of the past three weeks. Taking one last calming breath, because I need to be strong for Frankie so she can be the one to freak out, I push it open.
She’s lying on her side, and her exhausted violet eyes brighten a little as I walk through the doorway.
“I’m here. Baby, I’m here.” I kiss her head, rushing to her side and practically pulling her into my arms.
“Ah!” A yell rips from her throat, and I immediately back away as if I’ve burned her.
“No, it’s all right, she’s just having a contraction. A real one. This baby is coming,” the nurse who attends to the machines Frankie is hooked up to tells me.
I’ve been waiting for this moment for what seems like eons. I always thought I’d get here and start freaking out, that the nurses would have to escort me out of the room and feed me ice chips. But now that I’m here, a full-body calm washes over me, every part of me at peace and ready to be her warrior through this if she needs one.
“Okay, baby. I’m going to hold your hand the whole time. We’re doing this. Just think, at the end of this, we get to meet our son.” I try for reassuring and even flash her a small smile.
“But I’m only thirty-three weeks.” Frankie’s voice is pure panic.
“Almost thirty-four,” I remind her gently, because that was the goal. She’s just two days shy of it.
“The steroid shots should have developed his lungs, and we’re going to try to get him out as healthily as we can. I can’t make promises, you both know that. But I’m hoping to place your son in your arms and keep him there.” The doctor who met us when we first came into the hospital walks into the room.
Dr. Nina has become quite familiar to us and is the hospital’s ob-gyn. She rounds on all the pregnant patients while the private practices visit with their respective laboring mothers. She’s become a source of great comfort to us, always answering our questions and explaining in detail what is about to happen and the possible outcomes.
“Thank you. For everything up until now,” I say quietly to her as Frankie clutches my hand, another contraction rippling through her as I watch it on the monitor.
For two hours, she endures the pain ripping through her. And finally, when I ask for the umpteenth time if I can do anything, she demands I go get the anesthesiologist to give her an epidural. I almost kiss the man myself, because whatever he shoots into her spine makes her as relaxed as a house cat lounging in the sun.