I tried to focus on his hand, the warmth, the way his perfectly shaped fingers looked. Trying my best to ignore that they were white, the blood drained as I squeezed onto them for dear life. My mind was racing and lost in my thoughts; I tried to think of anything I could besides the fact that I was only 36 weeks and this baby was coming.
Doctors and nurses came in and out of the room, their words lost on me. Lex, on the other hand, would ask questions in his medical jargon, the doctors surprised with his knowledge. When they left, he would talk to me, but I was scared to listen. The fear of losing the baby was ripping me apart.
“Charlotte, please look at me,” he begged.
If I looked, I would cry. The tears sat on the edge of my eyelids, ready to stream down my face.
“Everything will be okay. Please, look at me.”
I mustered up every muscle in my body to move and face him. The second my eyes met his, the floodgates opened. He pulled me into his embrace as much as he could without cords from the machine being tangled up and kissed the tears on my face.
“Please listen to me.”
I nodded and allowed myself to hear the words.
“The baby is breach but the heartbeat is perfect. Your blood pressure has spiked and if it doesn’t come down in the next twenty four hours, they may need to do a caesarean.”
“Cut me open?” my voice quivers.
“Yes, but it’s only a small incision and I’ll be in the operating room with you. You won’t feel any pain, maybe just some pressure.”
I listened intently, trying to garner any of the calmness that Lex felt.
“Twenty four hours?” I confirmed.
“Yes. And don’t worry, I will be here the whole time and outside you have a hoard of visitors waiting if you’re up for it.” I held onto his hand tighter, wanting to savor what was quite possibly our final moment alone as husband and wife before we were officially parents.
My eyelids felt heavy. I struggled to keep them open amid the sounds of panic around me. My heart started to beat fast, the wave of panic followed by nausea setting in. In the distance I hear my name being called, a familiar voice. I focus on this voice, something about it I just can’t decipher. I hear it again. Now I shut my eyes tight and every ounce of me is trying to focus on this voice.
“Sweet baby girl…everything will be okay…hush baby girl.”
My body jerked and my eyes opened rapidly. The voice…
It was my grandmother.
Lex looked panicked, and even with all the chaos in the room, this serenity enveloped me because I had an angel watching over me, two angels. One that could be heard but not seen, and the one that sat holding my hand beside me eagerly waiting.
“The baby needs to come out now, Charlotte. We need to go the operating room,” Lex said softly.
I smiled, unafraid of what lay ahead.
At exactly 2:46am, Amelia Grace Edwards was born. Her tiny screams echoed through the operating room, causing everyone to cheer. Around me, the hospital staff was hovering, the nurse took away the baby as they cleaned her up. It felt like hours later when Lex walked over to me, his face beaming with pride as he placed our daughter against my face.
“Say hello to Mommy.”
The second her face touched mine, I was complete. Her precious skin was so soft as I ran my lips over her cheeks. She was tiny and perfect. There were no other words to describe her.
With my vision clouded I turned to look at Lex; a single tear dropped down his face to be swallowed by the gigantic smile that was consuming him.
“She is perfect…just like you,” he murmured.
“Just like her daddy.” I smiled back.
The nurse came over and explained that Amelia needed to be taken to the NICU because she was premature. I didn’t argue, nor did Lex. The second she was taken away I felt the loss. Okay, Charlie, this is your maternal side kicking in. Just get used to it because life has changed forever.
The days seemed a blur. I was beyond exhausted and trying my best to recover. Thankfully, my vagina was still intact from the caesarean and not looking like a battered lasagna – you can thank Eric for that analogy, but I still felt disable
d. My body ached, sometimes it was painful. It took me days to get up and pee on my own. Thank the lord for a catheter! By day two I felt incredibly gross and was ready for a shower. Yeah, it took the nurse and Lex to help me; apparently my legs decided they could no longer function. Who would have thought such a simple task like showering would be so tiring? What made it worse was my fear of seeing the wound. The nurse, thankfully, changed my bandages without me seeing a single thing, but Lex, on the other hand, would hover over her, which she seemed to take offense at. Yes, she was like sixty and immune to his looks, unlike the candy stripers that wore their slutty outfits. I could have sworn they visited me more times than any other patient in here. It might have also been the reason why Rocky visited me every day, without Bulls.