Thinking back on those months, all her fumbling around in an effort to find herself, Libby realized that her old life was nothing like the new one and that was fine by her. Like the butterfly on the small of her back, she was undergoing her own metamorphosis. The fact that she didn’t have any pressing cases didn’t send her into a tizzy of worry. Clients would come with time. It felt good to be back in a groove, although that groove remained pretty shallow at the moment.
Another huge change was about to take place in her life. She’d discussed the adoption with both Phillip and Robin. They had listened and then asked serious questions that had caused her confidence to waver a bit. Caught up in all the possibilities, Libby hadn’t been thinking clearly. Yet she still felt a deep sense of peace that this was the right decision.
“What about day care? Would you hire a nanny?” Robin had asked.
Libby knew she’d need to find someone and fairly quickly. She’d do her best to keep the baby with her for the first few months, she’d told Robin.
“You can’t be serious,” her friend countered. “You’re going to bring the baby to the office and try to work at the same time? Are you out of your mind?”
Libby quickly revised her plans. Robin was right. She couldn’t work and care for the baby at the office. She’d need to make provisions for day care.
“What about a father’s influence?” Phillip had asked, giving her pause.
“There are plenty of single mothers in the world.”
“A baby needs a father.”
“Well, things don’t always work out the way we want,” she argued, but deep down she worried Phillip was right, especially in light of the fact that the adoption agencies were crowded with applications from married couples hungry for a family.
Regardless, Libby planned to schedule a couple of preliminary interviews with possible day-care facilities. She would keep the baby with her as much as possible when she wasn’t at the office. There was also the matter of making her home ready for the baby. Robin had promised to help her shop.
As she exited the elevator, keys in hand, Libby found Ava sitting on the carpet outside her front door.
“Ava?” She called out the girl’s name and hurried to the teenager’s side. “What’s wrong?” Weeks earlier she’d given Ava her address and phone number and told the young teen to come to her if she ever needed help.
Ava clenched her stomach. “It hurts, Libby, it hurts real bad.”
The girl was in labor.
It was too soon, although maybe not. Libby couldn’t be sure because Ava hadn’t even been to the doctor yet.
This had been one of Libby’s biggest fears—that the baby would arrive before Ava had had any prenatal care.
Fighting off panic, Libby’s hands trembled as she unlocked her front door and led Ava inside. Once in the front door, Ava yelped in pain and water gushed from between her legs.
As calmly as she could, Libby hurried to her phone and dialed 911. She had to get the girl to the hospital. Next she contacted Phillip.
After explaining the situation, he said, “Call an Aid Car.”
“I already did.”
“Have them take her to Seattle General.”
“Okay.” Libby’s heart was pounding so hard that she could barely hear him above the roar of her own pulse. She had towels between Ava’s legs and wrapped one arm around the girl’s waist as she listened to Phillip’s advice.
“Contact the guardian. The grandmother will need to sign release papers before we can treat her.”
“Okay.”
Libby disconnected the call. “Has your grandmother left for work yet?”
Ava, who looked pale and shaken, shook her head. “I … I don’t think so. I snuck out of the house before she was awake. She didn’t hear me, otherwise she would have stopped me.”
Libby kept her cell phone in her hand. “I need to get ahold of your grandmother.”
“No!” Ava screamed. “Don’t, please don’t.”
“Sweetheart, I’m sorry, but it’s necessary.”
Darlene Carmichael answered on the fourth ring, at the same time the paramedics arrived.
“This is Ava’s friend Libby. Ava is with me … I’ve called an Aid Car to take her to the hospital.”
“What does she need to go to the hospital for?” Darlene demanded.
“She’s in labor.”
The teen’s grandmother gasped. “No, she isn’t. She can’t be.”
Libby didn’t have time to argue with her. “Listen, Mrs. Carmichael, I’m taking Ava to the hospital. She’s in terrible pain and needs to see a physician.”
“I can’t afford this.”
“I don’t want you to worry about the expense; that isn’t important just now. Taking care of Ava and her baby is.” Libby was willing to agree to just about anything as long as Ava’s grandmother cooperated. “You need to meet me at Seattle General to sign papers in order for Ava to be treated.” Before the other woman could complain she added, “If there’re any medical charges I’ll pay those, too.”
“I can’t be late for work,” Darlene cried, sounding like she was close to tears. “I can hardly afford to feed these kids, let alone pay hospital bills.”
Her own voice quivering, Libby carefully enunciated each word. “I’m sure your work will understand if you’re a few minutes late. You need to get to the hospital and sign those release papers so Ava can be treated. Understand?”
“All right,” Darlene muttered. “I’ll be at Seattle General in fifteen minutes.”
“Please hurry.”
Because Libby wasn’t allowed to go in the Aid Car, Ava was already set up in the labor room with Sharon Jennings when Libby arrived at the hospital. The admission papers, which awaited Darlene Carmichael’s signature, were on a clipboard at the end of the gurney.
“Libby.” Ava half rose from the bed and stretched her arm toward her.
Libby grabbed hold of the girl’s hand and brought it to her lips. “I’m here. Everything is going to be fine.”
Ava relaxed against the pillow and breathed in deeply. “No one told me it would hurt this much.”
Never having experienced labor and never having been with anyone who had, Libby hardly knew what to say to comfort her. She hoped the pain wouldn’t get much worse. As it was the teen’s face was pale and pinched, her eyes wide with pain and fear. Libby brushed the hair back from Ava’s forehead. The teenager looked so young and vulnerable against the white sheets, far too young to be in this predicament.
Within a few minutes Libby heard Darlene Carmichael outside the labor room door. “Where is she?” Darlene called out. “What have you done with my granddaughter?”
Apparently someone pointed the way because Darlene burst into the room. “What is Ava doing in here?” she demanded, not bothering to greet her granddaughter.
“Ava is in labor,” Sharon said and handed Darlene the clipboard for her signature.
Darlene penned her name and handed it back to Sharon. “In labor? Are you all fools? Ava isn’t having any baby. She just eats too much.”
Just then a pain contorted Ava and she squeezed her eyes closed and groaned while twisting her head back and forth against the pillow. “Make the pain stop. Make it stop.” As the labor pain eased, she exhaled and gradually relaxed.
“Tell them you aren’t pregnant,” Darlene told her granddaughter.
“Grandma,” Ava said, her voice reed thin. “I’m having a baby.”
Darlene gasped and cupped her hand over her mouth.
“Mrs. Carmichael,” Sharon said, glancing down at the chart and Darlene’s signature. “Your granddaughter is in labor. She is definitely giving birth within the next few hours.”
“She’s only thirteen,” Darlene cried.
“Apparently she’s old enough,” Sharon replied calmly. She brought an IV bag over to Ava.
“What’s she doing?” Ava demanded of Libby, watching Sharon.
She gripped hold of Libby’s hand so
hard that she had to pry the girl’s fingers loose.
“I … I don’t like needles.”
“It’s all right,” Libby assured her softly. “Turn your head away, and don’t look.”
Darlene stood by mutely, as if in shock, while Sharon inserted the needle into Ava’s arm and then secured it with tape.
“I don’t believe this is happening,” Darlene cried, and started to weep loudly. “All this time I just thought she was overeating.”
“I’m sorry, Grandma, I’m sorry.” Ava started to sob now, too.
“It’s all right,” Libby tried to reassure Ava.
“I can’t have you upsetting my patient,” Sharon told Ava’s grandmother.
Darlene Carmichael wiped the tears from her face. “What are we going to do? A baby? How will I ever be able to afford a baby?” Then, as if she suddenly realized Ava hadn’t gotten pregnant all on her own, the older woman squared her shoulders. “Tell me who the father is.” Angry now, she slapped the side of the bed. “I’ll string him up by his balls, I will.”
“Mrs. Carmichael,” Sharon said again. “You’re upsetting my patient.”
“You don’t think I’m upset?” Darlene flared back. “I just found out that my thirteen-year-old granddaughter is having baby.” With that she gave a wail of frustration and shock.
“Grandma, I’m sorry, so sorry …”
“Mrs. Carmichael,” Libby said, putting her arm around the older woman, “now isn’t the time to demand answers. Ava hates that she disappointed you.”
“I want to know who did this to her. Who’s responsible.”
Libby had guessed but she couldn’t be sure. “There will be time enough later to find that out. Right now we need to do everything we can to help your granddaughter.”
Darlene stared back at her as if she hadn’t understood a word Libby had said. “If I’m late again for work, I could lose my job, then what will happen to us?”
Ava endured another contraction, thrashing her head back and forth against the pillow as she softly whimpered, “It hurts, it hurts.” She clenched hold of Libby’s hand in a grip so tight it left marks.
“Help her,” Darlene cried. “Do something to help her.”
It was easy to see that the grandmother would be more of a distraction than a help.
Ava must have felt the same thing. “Go on to work, Grandma, I’ll be okay. Please, just leave, okay?”
Darlene hesitated and then nodded. “Okay, but someone will phone me, right?”
“Of course,” Libby promised.
Darlene Carmichael patted Ava’s shoulder. “Everything will work out, Ava. I’ll find out who did this to you and we’ll deal with what to do with the baby later. Don’t you worry.” Tears glistened in her eyes as she turned away and hurried out of the labor room door.
“Who’s her physician?” Sharon asked.
“She doesn’t have one,” Libby explained. “She had her first appointment scheduled for later this week.”
Sharon shook her head. “Okay …” Then, looking to Ava, she smiled and gently patted her shoulder. “Not to worry. Libby and I are here and we’ll help you through this. I’ll be with you as much as possible and will explain what’s happening to your body. Everything is going to be fine. You, me, and one of our great doctors will bring this sweet baby into the world together, okay?”
Her reassuring voice was exactly what Ava needed. “Okay,” she agreed, her own eyes bright with tears. “But I want Libby with me, too.”
“You got it,” Sharon said, and gave Ava’s arm a squeeze.
Libby stayed with her as the labor progressed.
“Sing to me,” Ava pleaded. “Sing to me the way you said you sing to the babies.”
“Okay.” Libby chose a Kelly Clarkson song and to her surprise Ava’s voice joined hers after the first few words. The pure quality of it stunned her. Ava had mentioned before that she liked to sing, but Libby hadn’t realized how talented she actually was.
“Ava, you have a lovely voice.”
“I like singing …” She paused as another pain overtook her.
Ten hours later, with a staff physician attending, Ava delivered a four-pound, one-ounce baby girl. Libby had to admit, the teenager had been a real trouper. Not once had Ava given in to the pain and screamed. Instead she sang. Sharon had praised Ava several times for her self-control. Ava cooperated in every way, although she wouldn’t let Libby leave her side for more than a few moments.
Phillip was in and out of the labor room and between pains Ava smiled up at him. “I know you.”
Phillip cocked his head to one side. “You do?”
Ava’s smile widened. “You were the doctor we saw in the elevator that day, the one Libby talks about all the time. She’s hot for you.”
“Ava,” Libby protested, embarrassed.
Phillip winked and leaned forward and whispered to Ava, “Well, the truth is, I’m hot for her myself.”
“Good. I’m glad.” Another contraction came then and Ava focused all her attention on getting through the pain.
Following the delivery Ava was taken to a hospital room, where she promptly fell asleep. Libby took the opportunity to check on the baby … her daughter. The infant was incredibly tiny but she was a giant compared to another one of the babies, who weighed in at less than three pounds.
“How is she?” Libby asked when Phillip joined her. He stood behind her, his hand at her neck.
“She’s relatively good. We’re estimating that she’s about thirty-five to thirty-six weeks. Early is never ideal but her vitals are strong and her lungs seem developed enough that she should be fine.”
“She’s perfect, isn’t she?” Libby whispered, looking down on the small, sleeping bundle. “And so beautiful.” Her voice cracked with emotion. This was her child, her daughter.
Phillip brought her closer. “She’s a little lazy just yet, not sure she wants to breathe on her own. Would you like to hold her?”
“Can I?”
“Of course.” Phillip reached into the incubator and tenderly lifted the newborn from her bed, placing the tiny bundle into the cradle of Libby’s arms.
Libby sank into the rocking chair and was surprised when the baby opened her eyes and looked straight up at her. Their gazes connected and it seemed as if this tiny four-pound baby had found a soft place to nestle in Libby’s heart. To her surprise Libby’s eyes instantly moistened.
“I’d like to name her Amy Jo,” she whispered. “My … my mother’s middle name was Jo and I’ve always liked the name Amy.”
“Amy Jo,” Phillip repeated, standing behind her, his hand on Libby’s shoulder.
“I know you and Robin raised some excellent questions about me adopting this child. I had a few doubts myself, but the moment I saw her, I knew making her part of my life was the right decision. I’m going through with the adoption, Phillip. This baby is my daughter.”
His hand tightened briefly against her shoulder. “You’re going to be a wonderful mother.”
His confidence in her meant everything to Libby. She crossed her arm over her chest and placed her hand on his resting on her shoulder. “Thank you,” she whispered as the emotion clogged her throat.
Phillip leaned forward and kissed the side of her neck. “Congratulations, Momma.”
Libby was grateful they’d had the opportunity to talk about the changes bringing this child into her life would mean. She needed his support, and his heartfelt reassurance was enough to send a fresh batch of tears rolling down her cheeks. For a woman who rarely cried the tears seemed to flow with relative ease. Emotion blocked her throat. It’d been quite the day and it wasn’t over yet. She’d need to make all the legal arrangements necessary to start the adoption process and arrange for custody of the child until the adoption was formalized. Then she’d need to look into day-care options and prepare to bring Amy Jo home from the hospital. She had no crib, no stroller, no diapers. In fact, she had nothing.
“You were wonderful
with Ava,” Phillip said. “Encouraging, supportive, helpful, and loving.”
Libby had been so preoccupied with Ava she’d barely noticed that Phillip had been in the labor room several times during the day. “I love Ava.” And Libby loved this baby, too. It astonished her that she could experience so much love for this tiny being when she hadn’t carried Amy Jo within her own body or physically given birth to her. Yet the instant Libby had laid eyes on her, she knew intuitively that this baby was hers, and that she was going to love her beyond anything she could ever have imagined.
Amy Jo’s birth would be the turning point for Libby. Her life would forever be marked by this day, the day she became a mother, the day when her world came to focus on this infant who’d been entrusted to her care. She had to believe God wanted Amy Jo to be part of her family.
Libby wiped the tears from her eyes and smiled up at Phillip as he lifted Amy Jo from her arms. He placed the baby girl back inside the enclosed crib that would help the baby breathe.
Libby left the neonatal intensive-care unit. The first person she phoned was her father.
He sounded surprised to hear from her after eight on a Monday night. “Everything all right?”
“Yes, I know this is late notice but I thought you should know I’ve made you a grandfather today.”
The returning silence was deafening. “You’re pregnant?”
“No, I’m adopting a baby girl. She was born just an hour ago. I’m naming her Amy Jo. The Jo part is for Mom. She’s tiny, just over four pounds, and she’ll need to remain in the hospital for a week or so, but everything should be fine.”
“Adopting a baby?” he repeated, sounding shocked.
“You’re going to love her, Dad. Your first grandchild.”
“Yes … I suppose I will.”
“Sorry to make this so short but I’ve got a zillion things to do.”
“Okay, well, congratulations.”
“Thank you, Dad.”
This was probably one of the longest telephone conversations Libby had experienced with her father in the last ten years. She felt good; in fact, she felt wonderful. The next person she phoned was Robin.
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