HER BABY'S SECRET FATHER (6 page)

Dr. Shrinivasan worked like the skilled professional he was, and in no time the chest tube had been expertly inserted. Terrance taped it in place. The results were immediate and amazing. With the tube and suction relieving the excess air pocket, the compressed lung would be able to re-expand. The leaking air sacs would now have a chance to heal over the next couple of days.

Tara’s oxygen saturation moved back up over the ninety percent mark and the ventilator quit squawking.

While Terrance readjusted the settings on the ventilator, Dr. Shrinivasan approached.

“You were very helpful today. As always. I’m glad you have decided to attend medical school.”

“Oh, hey—thanks, Doc S. Your vote of confidence means a lot to me.”

“If you’d like, I will make a recommendation at the University Medical School affiliated with Mercy Hospital. Instead of having to leave the state, you could continue living and working here.”

The compliment was greater than Terrance could ever have imagined. He shook the doctor’s hand and thanked him profusely.

“Now,” Dr. Shrinivasan said, “do you want to call this baby’s mother and tell her the successful news? Or shall I?”

Under normal circumstances only Dr. Shrinivasan would have done any updating on infant conditions. Terrance realized even the doctor had figured out that something more than the ordinary was going on between Terrance, Jaynie and Tara.

“You better do it, doc,” he said, gathering his equipment and moving on to the next incubator, with plans to be out of the unit before Jaynie arrived.

He wasn’t yet ready to face the woman who unknowingly had changed the course of his life.

* * *

As Dr. Shrinivasan had promised Jaynie, the chest tube got removed three days later, and Tara seemed surely set on the road to progress. But Terrance was nowhere in sight. The good doctor had explained everything to her so thoroughly, she couldn’t even manage to come up with a fake question as an excuse to call Terrance.

Another few days passed in comforting routine. Jaynie never so much as glimpsed Terrance, and chose to concentrate on her new life and daughter.

The following Monday morning, her phone rang, waking her up. She looked at the clock, surprised by how late she’d slept: seven-thirty a.m.

When she answered, Terrance’s deep, soothing voice vibrated on the other end. “I thought you’d want to be the first to know that I just extubated Tara.”

Jaynie gasped.

“She’s off the respirator and breathing on her own,” he said. “Beautifully.”

“I’ll be right over,” Jaynie said, throwing back the covers and sitting up with lightning speed.

An hour later, when she entered the NICU, Terrance had stuck around. With dark circles all the way to his cheeks, he looked exhausted. Avoiding her stare, he smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. He seemed tentative and distant. Too excited about Tara to stop, Jaynie disregarded his troubling appearance and flew past, brushing his hand on the way to her daughter’s incubator.

Sure enough, in no sign of distress, her baby slept with a knit cap perched on her head and the tiniest pacifier Jaynie had ever seen plugged into her mouth. Her tiny lip twitched and drew intermittently on the rubber binky, sucking like a newborn on a learning curve. The respirator had been replaced with a minute oxygen cannula, resting beneath her nose, and a tiny feeding tube inserted into one of Tara’s nostrils. How they could find a catheter small enough to fit amazed Jaynie.

“Oh, my Lord, I can’t believe it.” Joy leapt in her heart. She clutched the incubator to keep from floating away. More tears—the good kind—washed down her cheeks.

Dr. Shrinivasan approached. “We’re feeding her your breast milk through the nasogastric tube. It will help with digestion and the lining of her intestines.” He patted her arm in a fatherly fashion and nodded. “We want to encourage the sucking reflex. This is so far and so good.”

He squinted his eyes and gave a pleased smile, bobbing his head from side to side. “This will also help improve her blood oxygen level. We will observe her progress.” With hands crossed behind his back, he turned to leave, but first raised a finger. “One very reputable study showed that breast-milk-fed preemies go to their homes fifteen days sooner than formula babies.”

Jaynie wanted to hug him, but refrained. Her hands slipped into the portholes on the incubator and she stroked Tara’s tummy and whispered soothing words, then kept vigil for the next several minutes until the breast milk disappeared.

She wanted to thank Terrance for calling her, and share the good news about Tara’s progress with him. But when she turned he was nowhere in sight, and she figured he probably already knew, anyway.

Filled with delight and new hope, she hugged her newest friend, Arpita, when she arrived later for her daily visit. Unfortunately, little Manish, her son, wasn’t progressing as quickly as Tara. Jaynie felt some of her joy dissipate when she saw the preemie’s little ribs retracting and struggling with each breath, and the worried look in Arpita’s huge brown eyes.

Later, tears filled those doe eyes as Arpita told Jaynie that Manish had developed a respiratory infection during the night. Jaynie put her arm around her new friend and offered a shoulder for her to cry on, and before long joined her.

Exhausted, and on her way home for lunch and a nap, she glimpsed Terrance at the other end of the hall. He looked preoccupied with another employee, and she didn’t want to interrupt, so she left without saying goodbye.

Kim had the day off. She’d give her a call after talking to her mother long-distance, and she would tell Kim all about Tara’s progress. And then she’d talk her into shopping for some pillows, paint and a small indoor fountain for her house.

“Each day is one step closer to bringing Tara home,” she chanted like a mantra. “One step closer to bringing Tara home.”

* * *

The next morning, both a new R.N. and R.T. were assigned to the NICU. Jaynie wondered where Terrance was, and why he hadn’t been coming around. But she soon got distracted when the older nurse approached her with a sparkle in her eye and a tiny bath blanket tucked under her arm.

The nurse wisely stood back and let Jaynie do the entire a.m. care for Tara, who reacted to her mother’s attention with squirms, and made a tiny bleating sound.

Jaynie laughed.

“Oh, my gosh, she sounds like a little lamb.” She smiled and touched her index finger to Tara’s delicate chin, and the baby opened her mouth as if she wanted to eat. Jaynie slipped her pinky finger inside. Tara latched on. Surprised, Jaynie’s eyes widened, and she turned to the R.N. who nodded in approval.

As the morning progressed, Tara got fussy and couldn’t seem to settle down.

“I want you to go pump yourself.” The nurse spoke in gentle tones. “We’ll try an experiment.”

When Jaynie returned, a rocking chair had materialized and the nurse handed her an adult-sized bath blanket. “Now, open your blouse, take off your bra and sit down,” she said.

The R.N. went about untangling Tara from all of the tubes and wires strategically placed around her body, holding her like a football, and then put her against Jaynie’s chest, smack between her breasts. She wrapped the blanket around Jaynie’s middle, swaddling child to mother.

“This is called Kangaroo-care. Two doctors from South America discovered in the 1980s the amazing results of keeping preemies close to their mothers’ skin.” She winked and nodded at Jaynie. “See—it’s like a pouch.”

The feel of her own flesh and blood flush to her chest brought an incredible sense of peace. Her breasts tingled as if her milk was about to let down, and she was grateful that she’d just used the pump. The nurse placed a second bath towel over Jaynie’s shoulders like a shawl, and she settled in to rocking and humming to her daughter.

Within seconds Tara relaxed, and drifted off to sleep, allowing Jaynie to study her close up, press her to her bosom for warmth and kiss the top of her perfect little head.

“This will help your baby conserve her energy for growing, both physically and emotionally,” the nurse said with a kind, knowing smile, “while maintaining good body temperature.”

The peace of finally holding Tara the way she had dreamed, feeling her fine skin and warmth, acted like a drug. Before long, with her arms wrapped securely around her tightly swaddled child, Jaynie drifted off to sleep, too.

* * *

Terrance couldn’t stay away any longer. It had been days since he’d gone to see Tara and he couldn’t stand the separation. The same blood in her veins ran in his, and her precious preemie soul called out to him. Since returning from his rock-climbing trip he’d made a point to only come around when Jaynie wasn’t there—which was hard, because she always seemed to be there.

Today wasn’t even his day to cover the baby ward. He’d only been passing by, but he wanted to check on his daughter. Plus, he had a zebra-patterned soft toy to deliver. One of the NICU nurses had explained that newborns responded to that pattern and it was good for infant eye development. And so he couldn’t resist a visit.

With impeccable timing, Terrance rounded the corner and observed the most riveting sight of his life. There before him sat Jaynie Winchester, bare-shouldered and wrapped in a sarong made out of a thin hospital bath blanket. Tara’s tiny head was wedged between her full breasts. The most incredible look of contentment graced Jaynie’s face as she looked down at the baby tucked snugly to her chest. At first he thought she was nursing, and he panicked, tried to retreat, but couldn’t bring his feet to move.

Seeing Jaynie and Tara before him, a modern-day portrait of Madonna and Child, he stood dead in his tracks. He couldn’t manage to turn himself in the other direction and race out of the room, like any gentleman would.

Jaynie’s head of soft, full curls outlined her face and fell across her shoulders. Her eyes were serenely closed. Running the risk of being a shameless voyeur if he didn’t do something besides stand there and ogle a half-dressed woman—who happened to be the mother of his child—Terrance cleared his throat and prepared to speak. But then thought better of it.

Overwhelmed with emotion, coupled with days of insomnia and soul-searching over life and his priorities, and people he cared about, he felt his eyes go blurry. He sniffed and swallowed, and fought the surge of feelings.

Astounding.

Wanting simultaneously to curse Jaynie for messing up his plans, and rush to her side to tell her he was Tara’s father, Terrance withstood the urge, knowing it would only complicate things further. Jaynie had never meant to become anything more than a family of two. Butting into her dreams and plans with his sperm donor news would only mix her up. And Lord only knew he was mixed up enough for both of them. She deserved more than that, and she needed all of her energy to deal with being a mother for Tara. No, it wasn’t fair to drop a bomb like that and run.

And, besides, he still wasn’t sure if he wanted to be a real father. As long as he kept the information to himself, he had an option to back out, without ever hurting Jaynie or appearing like a coward.

If he didn’t think he could stand the responsibility of fatherhood, the risk of loving someone more than life itself and the pain of loss, he could retreat with his macho pride. And he had out-of-state medical school interviews to prepare for as a distraction.

The usual excitement he felt when he thought about his future didn’t manage to rally itself while he stood there watching Jaynie and Tara. Instead, his heart ached with a strange sense of yearning.

He took one last look at what should be the center of his universe and made a decision. He wouldn’t tell Jaynie he was the father…not yet. First, he needed more time to sort out his feelings for her and their child. And he could give Tara the zebra toy another day.

* * *

Another week passed and Tara was showing great promise, with a few ounces of weight gain and a stronger rooting reflex. Every time Jaynie swaddled and held her the little mouth seemed to search for a nipple, and on several occasions, with the nurse’s encouragement, she had offered herself for Tara’s exploration. Jaynie dreamed of the day when she’d finally get to nurse her.

“When we go home, you’ll have your own room, and lots and lots of toys.” Jaynie spoke quietly to her snoozing baby. “You’ll get to eat and sleep all you want—”

“Speaking of eating—” Terrance’s deep voice interrupted.

Jaynie’s glance shot across the room, finding him instantly. Her eyes went wide, and a tiny gasp escaped her lips. “Oh, hi.”

Reaching lightning-fast for a small cotton blanket, she draped it over her shoulder, covering both her and Tara. A flush of heat rose up her cheeks.

“Hi,” he said.

Tara jerked her head and Jaynie smoothed her fingers over the baby’s neck to help settle her down.

“I’m really sorry,” he said, raising his hands and moving closer. “I didn’t mean to interrupt anything, but to be honest you stunned me.” His face flushed, which struck her as odd. “I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

“No, you didn’t.” She smiled and shook her head. “I haven’t seen you in forever. Have you been away on a big adventure? Waterfall-surfing or something?” she teased, with a playful glance his way.

He scratched his jaw. “Now, that sounds like it has possibilities.” His eyes searched for hers, and when they met, she was struck by the change in his look from horsing around to dead serious. “Actually, I thought it was about time I took you out for another meal. You’re looking skinny—except for that large growth on your chest.”

She flashed a look at her ample cleavage over the top of the swaddling blanket, with Tara’s head tucked between, and subtly pulled it up a bit higher. Terrance’s cheeks grew the faintest shade of pink.

“I didn’t mean those… I meant that…” He scrubbed his hand across his face and grimaced.

Jaynie laughed at how he’d put his foot in his mouth…again. But Terrance recovered quickly.

“I meant the little bundle there.” He pointed toward Tara. Serious again, he continued. “Anyway, how about it?” He clapped his hands together. “Will you have dinner with me tonight, after I get off work?”