Look After You (4 page)

“Caleb,” I whisper, trying to get his attention, but it
’s like trying to wake up a corpse. “Caleb,” I whisper louder, this time punching his arm. He nearly gives himself whiplash as he wakes up with a start.

“Whoa, what?”

His disorientation makes me chuckle. “You fell asleep.”

He calms down slightly, smiling weakly at me.
 “Oh, sorry, I didn’t even realize.”

“It’s okay, but you need to go home and get some sleep, you
’re exhausted.”

“No, I am fine, honestly,” he says unconvincingly, while trying to cover up a yawn.

“Yeah of course you are,” I mutter, mockingly. “Please just go home, you look like crap.” That’s a lie, I don’t think it is ever possible for him to look like crap. He is too damn pretty.

“I don’t want you to be on your own, I can sleep in the chair in your room, honestly I don’t mind.”

“Yeah, but I do mind. You need a good night’s sleep in your own bed, go home. I’m just going to go to sleep myself when I get back to the room, I’m beat,” I lie, knowing I probably won’t be able to sleep for hours yet.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes! Now let’s go before I change my mind.

We say goodbye to my daughter, and once he assists me to my room he pulls me into a hug. We don’t say anything we just continue to hold each other. His warmth has always been comforting and in a moment like this, it
’s when I cherish it the most, especially when he is all I have at the moment. He finally pulls away, and presses a kiss against my temple, with his thumbs stroking delicately against my cheeks. “If you need anything, just call me okay?” I most definitely will not be calling him for anything, my boy needs his sleep, but I won’t tell him that. If I did, he’d never leave.

“Okay, I will.” He reluctantly exits the room and I am left alone, feeling a little out of sorts. I know I should try and get some sleep, but with all the crap going on inside my head, it would just be a lost cause.

Getting into bed, I begin to contemplate the past couple of days. I still don’t understand what’s happened. Why was my baby born now and not in three months time when she was actually due? I understand the anatomy of what’s happened, but what I don’t understand is why my body would betray me like that? Is it my fault? My past? Could that have caused the rupture in my uterus?

Through my obsessive thoughts, I somehow manage to fall asleep until the sound of buzzing awakens me.
 I squint groggily through the darkness over to the bedside cabinet on my right and notice my phone flashing. I move carefully, holding pressure to my stomach with my arm and reach over to retrieve the phone, and my heart literally leaps out of my chest at the name flashing on the screen. “Sebastian,” I sigh breathlessly as I answer.

“Hi
, baby,” he answers, a mixture of rugged emotion straining through his voice.

“I
’ve missed you so much,” I say. It feels so amazing to hear his beautiful voice. I miss him so much. It feels as if a lifetime has passed since I last spoke to him, six days ago. A lot has changed since then.

“I miss you too, how are you feeling?”

“I’m okay.”

“Really?” Sebastian
asks, questioning my honesty, and of course he is right to doubt me, I am far from okay. I’m an emotional wreck.

“No.” My whisper is barely audible through the receiver as my heart squeezes fist tight with a painful ache and I begin to sob uncontrollably.

“Oh, baby, it’s okay, just cry it out, I’m right here.” And that’s exactly what I do, I cry, letting out every emotion, crying harder than I have since my baby girl was born. And for five minutes we don’t say a word, we just cry out to one another. It’s a cry full of pure sadness, hurt and frustration.

“I’m sorry-” I begin to say as the tears finally subside and I can finally form coherent words of some kind, but Sebastian cuts me off.
 “No, you have nothing to be sorry about, nothing. I’m the one who should be sorry. When your life depended on me the most, I wasn’t there for you and you had to go through everything alone and you deserve so much better than that.”

Another pain surges through my heart, leaving me gasping for air. He can’t say that, it isn’t his fault he’s not here with me, it is just the way things are. It isn’t like he abandoned me for another woman and left me all alone looking after a small baby. How dare he put the blame on him? I mean yes, it’s been hard without him and even more so in the past two days, and I miss him like crazy, but nobody is to blame.

“I’m no good to you or our baby in a fucking war zone, where soldiers just like me are being killed on a daily basis. I am putting my entire life on the line and what happens if I die, where will that leave you then? I’m a selfish bastard. I’ve practically chosen a job over you and our baby, and I’ve only just recently realized it. And what for, huh? So I can get myself blown up for a war that makes absolutely no sense, because right now, Ava, it makes no sense to me, not now that our baby has a fight of her own to battle.

“I don’t see the point of continuing if it means being without you for any longer. You and our daughter need me. I’m coming to the end of my reenlistment contract. Once my duty has finished, that’s it, I’m not continuing. I can
’t be away from you anymore. I want to raise our child together. I want to marry you, be your husband, a husband who sees his wife and child every single day and not be worried that I could be deployed at any moment.”

Marriage. Leave the army. Shit. I close my eyes as I sink further into the
 bed, trying to make sense of his words. My mind feels as though it’s about to explode.

“Ava, are you okay? You haven
’t said anything,” he says after a short while with an apprehensive tremble to his voice.

“I’m just thinking,” I say, a little dazed by the sudden information.

“About?” he urges.

“That it
’s a girlfriends fantasy to hear ‘I’m leaving the army’ while their boyfriend is in Afghanistan. The relief to know they never have to return to a war zone ever again, the relief of knowing that every time the phone rings I won’t automatically think it’s bad news.”

“
Exactly, I-”

“
But the army has been your life for the past twelve years, it’s all you know and if you leave it will absolutely destroy you. We both know that if you hadn’t enlisted into the army at the age of eighteen that you wouldn’t be here right now.”

“Ava,” he warns.

“No, let me speak. I knew you back in high school, you were a tornado of a mess, spiraling out of control, addicted to drugs, and if it weren’t for the army, your first accidental overdose would not have been your last. I just worry that leaving could have a bad effect on you.” I know I am digging at a painful sore, but if he is considering leaving the army for good, he needs to know what the cost may entail in the long run. The army is his life, not only did it save his life, he actually found something he was good at and loves, and it took him a long time to find it. I just don’t want him to give it up because of me.

When I said I knew him back in high school, I meant the term loosely. I technically didn’t know him personally; he was a senior, I was a sophomore, we didn’t hang with the same crowds, plus he was a friend of my brother
’s, so I stayed away. It wasn’t until years later, celebrating my twenty-fourth birthday in a club in Seattle that we actually met again. It was a bizarre encounter really because we are both originally from Miami and to see a guy you went to school with, a school on the opposite side of the country was crazy. I don’t usually believe in fate, but that night I was convinced it had to be fate, because there was no other explanation. That thought makes me smile. The morning after my birthday we had our very first date, and that was the day I fell in love with pancakes and Calla Lilies. He met me outside a Denny’s restaurant for a breakfast date with a bouquet of pink Calla Lilies and treated me to a stack of pancakes and it has become a monthly ritual ever since. Well, it was a monthly ritual before he got deployed four months ago.

“Babe, that
’s not going to happen, I’m not the person I was before.”

“I know you
’re not but who knows what leaving the army would do to you. I just worry that if you quit, you would eventually hold it against me, and you would grow to hate me.”

“No, I wouldn
’t. I promise you that wouldn’t happen,” he interjects.

“Yes, you would,” I argue.

“No, I wouldn’t.”

“
How do you know that?” I question, doubtfully.

“
Because I just do. I would never put that kind of blame on you,” he says.

“
You say that now but how can you be sure?”

“
Because I love you, I love our daughter, and that’s how I can be sure.”

“
But-”

“But nothing, Ava. I understand your concerns, I do but I haven’t even thought about drugs for years, I haven’t wanted to take them, haven’t had the urge. It isn’t something I would want to do again. I
’ve been thinking about leaving the army at the end of my contract since you told me you were pregnant, but getting a phone message from the American Red Cross saying my girlfriend had given birth to my daughter thirteen weeks early, well it put everything into perspective. I want to give you a life that both you and our daughter deserve.” His words cause every single hair on my body to stand up, and my heart to hammer in my chest.

“This is exactly what you want?”

“Yes it is. I want a life with you, a family. This, talking to you on the phone, wasn’t how I pictured discussing marriage with you, it was supposed to be under romantic circumstances, not in a hysterical mess, but I was being serious when I said I wanted to marry you, but I want to propose properly, with a ring when I come back from Afghanistan-”

“Yes.”

“Yes what?” he questions, with confusion lacing his speech.

“Yes, I will marry you.”

His chuckle sends goose bumps trembling up and down my body. “But I didn’t ask you.”

“
I don’t care. I just want to be your wife.”

He clears his throat, and I don
’t miss the sound of excitement in his voice when he asks the next question. “We’re getting married then?” He chuckles nervously.

“
Yes, I think we are, husband to be.”

He moans affectionately down the phone.
“I like the sound of that. God, I love you.”

“
I love you too,” I say with a smile, holding the phone to my ear with my shoulder, my thumb caressing over my ring finger, visualizing what it would look like with a wedding ring on it.

“
Now, on to the other woman in my life. How is my daughter? I want you to tell me everything.”

I spend the next ten minutes telling him everything, from the fine hairs on the beautiful head of hers, to her breathing saturates and Sebastian just absorbs the information and listens. It isn
’t long after when he tells me he needs to go, and I have to ignore the disappointment that sinks to the pit of my stomach.

“I’ve requested emergency leave, but our unit is fucked up, it can go either way. If I can’t get emergency leave, then I will get ordinary leave, but just so you know, I’m coming home, and I don’t care what commanding officer I have to fight with to get the authorization, I am coming home.” I know he means well, but both he and I know getting any kind of leave isn’t easy, and there is a possibility he won’t be coming home yet, even with the severity of our current situation.

“If you can’t, that’s okay, I have Caleb-”

“Ava, I’ll be home, whether it’s in two days, or in two weeks, I’ll be coming home to you and my daughter.”

Chapter 4

It’s been a week since my little angel was born and every single day she gets stronger. Every day that she gets stronger it gives me an extra day of hope, hope that she can survive this. Her strength is giving me the power to carry on, to be there for her, to be there for me. Every day from the moment I wake up to the moment I go to sleep, I have spent every single minute with her. There isn’t a place on this earth I’d rather be, than here with my daughter. Every time I look at her, she takes another tiny piece of my heart away, expanding it to a size that I never knew could be possible. It really takes my breath away.

It
’s true when they say a child’s love is like no other because this love is definitely one of a kind. Unconditional. I would give my life for her, and if it were possible I would trade places with her in a heartbeat. It breaks my heart to sit here and watch, knowing there is absolutely nothing I can do. Everything is completely out of my control. There are no guarantees. I have to put my trust in a bunch of medically trained strangers and hope that she will pull through. At the moment though, everything seems to be heading in the right direction and for that I am truly grateful.

That’s not to say the past week has been easy, it hasn’t, far from it, in fact.

On Monday, I was told her IRDS had resolved itself, and her lung capacity was strong enough for her to be taken off the ventilator and put onto the Continuous Positive Airway Pressure, a machine where a tubing nasal mask is strapped directly over her nose and securely around her head with a special white hat that covers the majority of her face and blows mild air pressure through a tube to keep her airways open. Now, she is given intravenous caffeine, which stimulates her breathing regularly. And when I thought I’d finally be able to breathe again, it seemed that a new set of problems had occurred. Apnea. I was told it was normal for preterm babies to have a pause in their breathing because of how immature and undeveloped they are, but what I wasn’t told was how often they occur. Every couple of hours the monitor will trigger off an alarm and more often than not, a nurse will have to remind my baby how to breathe with a little nudge or stimulation. It scares the shit out of me every time.

During the week I have been learning new things every day, simple ways to interact and mother my baby, instead of just watching her in a plastic box, feeling
hopeless. None of which are of conventional methods but I’m learning how to adapt and I understand conventional isn’t a viable option at the moment.

On Wednesday, the nurse allowed me to assist with her feeding. It wasn’t anything to write home about. I literally just pressed down on a syringe that was attached to her feeding tube, but knowing I was the one feeding her made me feel ecstatic. It was the first time that I finally felt like a mother, instead of a passerby watching my daughter from afar. The nurse also showed me how to change her diaper, with tiny cotton balls and warm water. I actually changed her diaper myself. I was absolutely terrified that I was going to break her somehow, because of how tiny and fragile she looked. It was hard work, especially when I couldn’t raise her legs like you can with a normal baby, and having to maneuver what felt like gigantic hands against her miniature bottom without causing her distress was harder than it looked. It took me a while but eventually I managed it.

On Thursday, I was discharged from the hospital. My first night away from her was impossibly difficult. I don’t think I got a wink of sleep. I just tossed and turned all night, panicking, thinking something bad was going to happen. As the hours went by, I literally watched my cell phone like a hawk, waiting for the heartbreaking call to come. Thankfully, it never did. This morning couldn’t come quick enough, and I almost bounce through the door just to make sure she is still in one piece. When I approach her, I slap my hands to my mouth. The CPAP mask has been removed and has been replaced by a nasal prong. The CPAP mask is no longer obstructing her pretty little face.

“Oh my God, Caleb.” I grasp hold of his hand in a death grip. “The CPAP has gone.”

“Holy shit, look at that little fighter.” He opens up the isolette doors and caresses his forefinger against the palm of her hand.

“Language,” I scold. He chuckles, leaving his response silent. I retrieve my phone from out of my shoulder purse. I take a snapshot of her, and attach it to a message and type out a quick text to Sebastian.

Ava
: Look who isn’t on her CPAP anymore?

Love you.

xxx

I send him a daily picture, keeping him updated on her progress. I know the pictures are the only things helping him get through everything at the moment. I know it isn’t the same as seeing her in person but he will be able to see her soon, when he comes home on ordinary leave. The emergency leave wasn’t necessary considering how stable she became in such a short amount of time. He has been granted emergency leave if her condition deteriorates, but for now he should be coming home in the next week. I wish he was coming home for good, but I am grateful that I get two weeks with him.

“Good Morning, Ava.” My heart springs out of my chest at the sound of Doctor Bailey
’s voice and I spin around, almost giving myself whiplash. My heart drops when I see him staring at me, his smile reserved only for me.  I gulp nervously as I place my phone back inside my purse.

“Hi,” I say shyly, trying my hardest not to look directly into those brilliant green eyes of his because when I do, I feel as if I am being fast-forwarded into the twilight zone and all I can see his him. It is really distracting. My skin hums at his proximity and I feel disarmed just being in his presence. I don’t know if I should be worried or not that he is making me feel like this, on high alert and quite frankly, turned on. Every time I see him, it feels as if I am meeting him again for the very first time. I can’t breathe. It’s incredibly intense.

I take a nervous glance to Caleb to see if he has noticed the sudden flush of my cheeks, but thankfully he isn’t paying any attention. This is ridiculous. I am engaged. I am in love with Sebastian. Doctor Bailey shouldn’t be making me feel like this.

No. It must be the hormones. It is the hormones. I am not attracted to him. I just miss Sebastian, that’s all. I’m feeling like this because I miss Sebastian. Well, that’s what I tell myself anyway…

“How are you?” I almost combust on the spot at the sound of his burly southern accent, it is the most wonderful sound in the world. Shit. Why couldn’t my daughter be given an ugly doctor? Instead of this...sex
god
. Oh great. Now I have given my libido food for thought.

“Yeah, I’m great, good, I’m good.” I squirm on the spot, feeling extremely uncomfortable, given where my thoughts have just gone.

He smirks, with one eyebrow raised. “Great, good, good,” he mocks, and I get the distinct feeling he is teasing me. He knows he’s getting under my skin. I flush under his scrutiny, and for a moment I feel dizzy with lust. I begin to lose myself within his gaze, forgetting where I am, until he clears his throat and abruptly breaks our connection. “So we have good news. On Wednesday, we discussed the possibility of weaning her off the CPAP?” he asks. I nod, remembering the conversation we had two days ago.

“
With her breathing dramatically improving, we were finally able to take her off the CPAP. She is still on oxygen, but she is taking it all in her stride. Considering she didn’t have the steroids at the end of your pregnancy, the strength of her lungs is quite remarkable. But remember she is still undeveloped, so the possibility of her having to go back on to the CPAP is still high, but for now she is stable.”

I understand that a setback is possible. I don
’t expect this to be an easy journey, because I know it won’t be. I feel happy she is getting stronger and that she has pushed through a great hurdle. I am immensely proud of her for that.  Even if we take one step forward and two steps back, I will take this journey for what it is, and I will cherish every moment with her.

“We will continue to keep a close eye on her, but at the moment, everything is heading in the right direction. So you can breathe, for now.” I let out a breath that I didn
’t realize I had been holding. He gives me a breathtaking smile as he steps towards the incubator where my daughter is laid, taking breath after breath.

I take a sudden step back when Doctor Bailey’s elbow accidentally grazes my arm, electricity striking and humming through my body at our physical contact. He smirks at me, a smirk that tells me he felt that too, the instant chemistry. I stare up at him with a heavy mixture of heat, frustration and lust, and that makes his smile widen. His eyes sparkle with humor before he turns his head back to my daughter, getting back to his work. I take another step back, leaning into Caleb for support while I try to gather my thoughts.

The way he looks at me is as if he can see right through me, like he can hear my thoughts and read every secret. It is beginning to bug the hell out of me, but that doesn’t stop my heart from galloping in my chest. I try and shake the feeling off and turn all of my attention back to my daughter. That doesn’t work though. I can still feel him, his essence, even though he is three feet away.

“You okay?” Caleb asks, placing the back of his fingers against my cheeks. “You look a little flushed.” That statement causes my cheeks to glow fifty shades brighter because only two out of the three of us know why I am blushing and the quick intrigued glance I receive from Doctor Bailey only confirms it.

“Yeah I’m fine,” I lie, inwardly urging the heat to die down.

Caleb smiles at me.
 “It’s okay, just don’t watch when he has to take blood from her.”

That actually makes my blood boil because I hadn’t even realized that
 he was taking blood from her. This is ridiculous. I hate how he makes me feel. The moment I see Doctor Bailey everybody else in the room just fades away, even my daughter and that is just downright unacceptable. “Have you nearly finished?” I snap.

Caleb must recognize the brazenness of my question because he looks at me a little shocked. “Ava,” he scolds, and I have to refrain myself from rolling my eyes.

“Yep, just finishing up now.” Out of the corner of my eye I can see his mouth is curled up in a smirk. When he walks away, I am finally able to breathe again, away from his…intensity.

“Ava, that was rude.” Caleb sounds serious, but when I look up to him, I can see he is smiling at me.

“Whatever.” I shrug.

“He is sexy though, huh?” A rising heat seeps through me.

“Who, the doctor?” I feign ignorance, but the look on Caleb’s face calls me on my bullshit. Is there anything I can’t hide from him?

“Don’t play dumb with me, you know what I
’m talking about. The doctor was the one who was making you blush. I know it. You know it. He knows it. He couldn’t take his eyes off you.”

Why are we talking about this? I don’t want to talk about him or think about him, but of course my brain doesn
’t allow that, or Caleb for that matter.

“Then why did you call me on it, me blushing right in front of him?”
  I question defensively, placing my hands on my hips, staring up at him.

“Because I’m
mean
like that,” he says with a smile. “I can’t blame you though, he is ridiculously good looking. Have you checked out his credentials? I’m sure doctors aren’t supposed to be that hot.”

That makes me chuckle.
 “Discrimination is frowned upon you know.” I don’t add the fact that I had the very same thought myself.

“And?” he questions, like he isn’t bothered. I roll my eyes. “You’re an ass, you know that?”

“Language,” he scolds mockingly, causing me to laugh a little.

I reach into my purse, take a ten-dollar bill out of my wallet, and thrust it into his
hand. “Shut up and get me a drink, Momma is thirsty.” I smirk, looking down at my daughter. Momma. It is still strange using that terminology.

“Yes, Momma.”

I laugh to myself as he wanders off, leaving me to have a moment alone with my daughter. A moment where I can thank the God above that my baby girl is still alive and continues to fight for her life. Once I sanitize my arms and hands again, I open the isolette door to her incubator, placing my finger inside her hand, tracing gentle circles against the softness of her skin, before allowing her to take hold of my forefinger. She makes me gasp as she tightens her grip, literally clinging on to me. It isn’t the first time she has done it, but it takes my breath away every single time.

“Hey, baby girl. I am so proud of you. You’re no longer on your CPAP, way to go, baby. It was hard being away from you last night, but we managed it, huh?” I continue talking to her in a quiet whisper, talking about anything and everything. I like the idea that she can hear everything I am saying, that the sound of my constant voice is keeping her tiny heart beating.
 She is definitely reacting to me though. Whenever I hold her hand she always grips on as tightly as possible and moves a little more often when I do talk. I assume it’s something that is comforting to her, so I continue.

A little later that afternoon I turn to Caleb who is mumbling profanities under his breath. “What’s wrong?” I ask, concerned at the frustrated look etched along his face.