Rocker Series

by Gina Whitney

  I accepted them and stood, walking to the bathroom to change. “Yes, and no. The cord is around the baby’s neck causing the oxygen level and heart rate to drop.” Her eyes widened, and my own welled up. Saying the words out loud twisted my gut and broke my heart all at once. I swallowed the knot in my throat and closed the bathroom door. A shadow moved across the bottom of the door as Cindy leaned against it. I removed the scrubs, putting the pants on first.

  “Everyone’s in the waiting room and Jake is picking your parents up from the airport. So they’ll be here shortly. I’m praying for you both, and I’m sure the baby and Gia will be fine. I’ll let them know,” she said and then the shadow was gone.

  Prayer…has it come to that? I put my arms through the sleeves and over the pants. I turned the faucet on and splashed my face with some water, needing another minute to reflect. Man, you look bad. The tan I sported yesterday drained from my face. The man in the reflection was a ghost of emotions and thick scruff—a stranger. The man in the mirror had, in his short life, broken nearly all of the Ten Commandments, and it’s been a while since I’d felt so low. Fear usually drove me to drugs, and right now, I’d kill for a drink or a hit. I turned, leaning my forehead against the cold door. Despair clung to me, and emptiness filled my heart. And I prayed like hell Beauty would reward me and we’d share a new life together alongside our new son or daughter. I told myself: This is exactly where you’re supposed to be. So be here, now. This pain is a gift, just as your happiness will be. Find the stillness in it. Listen. Have faith. Learn. Rise.

  Become stronger than your struggle.

  The nurse knocked on the bathroom door, asking if I was ready. Was I? Yes, you are! I left, following her down the hallway and past the waiting room where my friends sat. Jake just walked in with my parents, who met me at the next door.

  “Be strong, son…be strong for her and your baby. We’ll be here waiting.” He grabbed me, hugging me, and my mother wrapped her arms around both of us. And then she said, “I’m praying for the three of you.” I nodded and continued through another set of doors until finally walking into OR Two.

  There must have been ten people in the operating room. I stopped short, staring at the sheet pulled across Beauty’s mid-section, my feet cemented into place. The lights were bright, and the sterile smell burned my nose. The team around her unwrapped the surgical instruments and placed them on the metal trays, the sounds echoing around me.

  A cheery nurse tugged my arm, and explained what was going on. “I’m Gail, the head nurse. This is all normal procedure and we do a few of these a day. So it’s routine,” she said as I followed toward the table that Beauty was on. “She’s been given an epidural block, so she won’t feel any pain at all.” Then she pointed to the bag the hung below. “That’s the urinary catheter and IV,” she continued explaining, and I nodded, understanding it all so far. “And if you’d like to see the birth, you can peek around the drape. Your role is to keep your wife calm and offer support. She’s been asking for you,” she said, grabbing a chair and placing it beside Beauty.

  A young man in green scrubs walked over, introducing himself. “I’m Dr. Nelson, the anesthesiologist.” He turned to address Gia. “If there’s anything you need or if you feel anything at all, let me know. At any given time, we can always put you under general anesthesia, but then he has to leave,” he explained and then directed his attention back to me. “She shouldn’t feel anything, so don’t worry; it’s perfectly safe for her and the baby.”

  Dr. Mills leaned around the curtain. “We’re going to begin,” he said and disappeared again. Gia was shaking uncontrollably, and I thought her body was going to jump off the table.

  “It’s just the anesthesia and cool temperature. Again, perfectly normal,” Dr. Nelson explained as he continued to monitor Gia’s heart rate.

  I was too nervous to sit and pretend this was a casual experience, and I wasn’t about to lose my fucking mind. I turned and spoke to her for the first time in thirty minutes. She still looked out of it, but was trying her hardest to smile. “What can I do?” I asked, feeling so helpless.

  “What you do best…be my rock,” she whispered, and the choking feeling squeezed my throat. I swallowed trying to breath past it. However, it continued to squeeze, squeeze…squeeze.

  “Always, my love. We’ll get through this…I promise.” I leaned in to kiss her cheek.

  The team was eager to start the surgery and the first incision was made. I winced and held in a gasp. Beauty’s hand squeezed mine, giving me what little comfort she had. An alarm sounded and I jumped in panic. It became evident how important removing the baby at that moment was.

  Gia shrieked, and the surgical assistant asked, “Can you feel anything?” She shook her head but didn’t verbally answer. Tears rolled down both of her cheeks.

  “She’s good,” the assistant said aloud, and then they continued.

  She gasped for air and her head lolled to each side. “What’s going on?” I yelled. “She can’t breathe!” I continued as she continued to gasp frantically for air. The anesthesiologist said that this was a normal side effect from the epidural. She couldn’t take a deep breath, and now her breathes were tiny, rapid pants.

  The nurse shouted to give her some Valium, and then turned, directing me to rub her arms…explaining how important touch was in a situation like this. This was something I knew about. The importance of stimulation. I rubbed her arms and cheeks, cooing endearments. And I prayed like hell. Please, dear god…

  “Abel, there’s going to be some pulling. Hold her steady,” the doctor yelled beyond the sheet. I looked down at Beauty, and her eyes fluttered. I moved above her head with the anesthesiologist to her side. I held, and they pulled. Her body was tugged across the table.

  Silence.

  I waited…one eye on Beauty, and the other toward the fabric barrier. The doctor held the baby up and I leaned over the sheet. The baby appeared lifeless for a moment or two as they sucked the mucus from the tiny mouth and nose. I held my breath and watched while they rubbed my baby to stimulate it. I threw up a silent prayer. Please let the baby be okay. Please, I prayed. Slowly, a pink glow continued to grow along the baby’s skin. And then she uttered her first cry of protest.

  My heart swelled and tears welled up in my eyes.

  “Pressure’s dropping,” someone yelled across the small space.

  “She’s hemorrhaging—badly.” The doctor called to his team and they sprang into action. “We need to get this bleeding under control. Get him out of here.”

  “Hemorrhaging?” I looked down at Gia’s grey face, her hand lifeless in my hand. “I’m not leaving her. I can’t. I promised.” My breath caught in my chest and I couldn’t breathe. It hurt too much.

  “Come with us, Mr. Gunner. We’re taking your daughter to the NICU, and you can hold her there,” the nurse said warmly, and offered me a peek at my daughter’s little swaddled body.

  She was perfect, and her wide-opened eyes landed on mine. How could I choose? There was no choice. I had to stay for beauty…for me…for our daughter. I shook my head, trying to blink the tears free.

  “Please, we’re trying to save your wife’s life,” he pleaded, and then they pushed me through the steel door.

  My wife…

  They worked, but despite their efforts, Gia’s heart gave up as soon as I left the room. The hallway swarmed with medical staff, but I refused to move from the window.

  The nurse held my daughter, cradled in her arms beside me. Her eyes wide and alert, and a feeling I never had came over me. “Please take care of my daughter. I hope to be there soon.” She nodded and I kissed my angel on her perfect head. I tried to project as much calmness at this child as possible. Whether she was able to understand or interpreted, I didn’t know. But the new father in me fought to protect what was mine.

  Mine.

  I directed my attention back to my love. Someone inserted a tube down her throat and connected it to the oxygen supply. Another charg
ed the defibrillator. The team stood back and Gia’s body jerked upward, her arms falling to her side. Could life be that cruel to give us a healthy daughter and take her mother away so soon? Someone yelled “charge,” and again, my love’s body surged upward, and the team froze, watching the monitor. I watched. Come on. Come on. A low blip crossed the monitor. A nurse yelled, “We’ve got a pulse,” and they continued to watch as her heartbeat grew stronger and stronger. The doctor picked up his instrument, and the team worked on the bleed. My own heart started again, and I slid down the wall until my ass met the cold hard floor. And I gagged.

  Some lessons are best learned through pain… Sometimes, our visions clear only after our eyes are washed with tears…sometimes, we have to be broken so we can be whole again. If God meant the day to be perfect, he would not have invented tomorrow… So don’t worry if today wasn’t perfect, because you still have another. And if there’s anything in your heart that feels right, go after it no matter what it takes…because you’re only given a limited amount of tomorrows.

  I remained in the NICU with my little precious angel. She was doing well, and the nurse said there were no complications from her birth and she’d be moving to the regular nursery as early as tomorrow. She was diapered and lay under the warming lights of the incubator to help regulate her body temperature—which was explained to me as being normal procedure for all newborns. I hovered over her, counting ten fingers and toes. She weighed eight pounds, two ounces with a mess of dark hair. I was surprised to see a baby with so much hair. Then again…I don’t remember ever seeing a newborn in my life. None of my friends had kids or were planning to anytime soon.

  Kristen, a nurse from the care-team, was rambling away when I noticed a red mark on my daughter’s thigh. “What’s that mark?” I pointed, concerned she was injured somehow.

  She leaned in and smiled. “It’s a birthmark, Mr. Gunner,” she quickly answered. “Looks like a dragonfly, doesn’t it?”

  I smiled and leaned in for a closer look. “It does.” And for the first time today, there was joy in my heart. I grabbed my phone and Googled Dragonfly birthmark.

  Folklore suggests that what a woman was experiencing during pregnancy is imprinted on the child in the form of a birthmark. She who wears this totem is the balance keeper between the ‘little me’ and the ‘God self.’ The Dragonfly carries the wisdom of transformation and adaptability in life, and is connected to the symbolism of change and light. Aerial lightness, those who have this symbol can develop the ability to take things lightly, even in the darkest moments. She invites people to keep a light, positive outlook no matter what, and transcends lightness in thoughts as well as lightness in feelings. She works with the power of light and fairy realms.

  My little angel of light, I thought. I placed my hand upon the top of her incubator and sent her back all the positive energy I had left. Whatever I had…I’d give it to my angel and Beauty.

  “She’s a special little baby. After all, her daddy is the lead singer of the Lethal Abel.” She grinned up at me and continued to fawn over my daughter. I completely forgot about the media circus that was going on around the hospital. I asked Dave to hold off on an official statement until Gia had some time with the baby. It didn’t seem right to do it any other way. “It’s time for her feeding. Would you like to feed her?” she asked, screwing a nipple on a tiny bottle of formula.

  “Yes, I would like to feed my angel,” I said, and she handed me the bottle and a cloth for my shoulder. As I took a seat in the padded chair under the window, she opened the incubator, scooped the baby up, and placed her into my arms.

  “Well isn’t that the perfect picture…Abel Gunner holding his baby for the first time,” she gushed, and my inner alarms sounded.

  Careful to cradle my daughter’s head properly, I addressed the snooping nurse. I looked at her name tag. “Casey, it would be unwise to share any of my private moments with my daughter. If I find out you’ve taken or shared anything to do with my family…you will pay dearly, and I promise you won’t have a job, either.” She blanched and nodded. “Now, please leave, and ask another nurse to take your place. I don’t feel comfortable with you around my daughter.” I kept my voice even. However, there was no wiggle room for interpretation. I wouldn’t take a chance with her safety and this bitch just creeped me out. She gathered her things and quietly left the room. Good riddance.

  In my arms, I cradled my angel and placed the nipple against her lips. Her soft, delicate fingers wrapped around my colorful inked finger. She was the medicine to my sorrow, and like slickened dust, it trickled over my skin, warming my heart until it positively glowed. Her eyes opened and they were the clearest blue I’ve ever seen. I chuckled when her pink tongue came out, searching for the nipple. Angel of mine. God, she already reminded me so much of Gia. She latched on to the nipple after a few tries. Her face wrinkled up, and she shut her eyes, making a sound of a small animal. She lay peacefully swaddled in my arms until she fell fast asleep.

  A soft knock sounded on the window above. I glanced up and saw my father’s eyes filled with happiness as my mother sobbed beside him, barely holding it together. A blanket of love surrounded me and I melted into it with ease.

  My mother opened the door quietly. “My little darling,” she cooed, stepping further in. “We just wanted to take a quick peek at our granddaughter.” She asked my father to close the door behind him and he glanced over her shoulder. Even though, technically, they were family…they weren’t allowed in this unit. She was brand new…germ free and fragile. I found myself cringing at the thought of anything unclean touching her. My father pumped the sanitizer once and motioned for my mother to do the same.

  “She’s as beautiful as her mother.”

  I winced. My father’s words hit me square in the chest.

  He stepped to my side and squeezed my shoulder. “They will page me as soon as she’s out of recovery. She’s in very good hands, Abel. I made a few phone calls, and one of the board of directors was an old client of mine. She was more than happy to help.”

  My mother took the bottle from my hand. “She did well for her first feeding…nearly an ounce. Did you burp her?”

  “No, not yet.”

  “Okay, just take her over your shoulder and rub in circles,” she explained. “The nurse should have shown you. Where is she?” she asked, looking around.

  “I kicked her out. She was a little too interested in my daughter and the band. I can’t have that drama right now.” I released a deep breath when angel burped. The last thing I needed after today is to have some “The Hand that Rocked the Cradle” situation.

  “I’ll make sure she doesn’t have access to her nursery,” he said as he typed out a message on his phone.

  “Thank you.”

  A new nurse walked in wearing white scrubs with blue and pink teddy bears and a stethoscope around her neck. “Hi, I’m Jill. I’m your baby nurse,” she said congenially. However, her demeanor held an air of formality to it. “I’m sorry, but you two can’t be in here—policy. When she moves to the step-down nursery, you’ll have special hours where you’ll be able to bond,” she elaborated further, and I liked her immediately. She took her job seriously, and that gave me some peace of mind.

  My father nodded his understanding, guiding my mother out the door. “I’ll get you as soon as you can see her, son.”

  I mouthed thank you and returned my attention to Jill.

  “May I?” Jill reached forward, grabbing my angel. “The relationship between the mother—or in this case, father for right now—influences the child. If the parent accepts the nurse, the infant is more apt to do so. I like to talk to the baby as I examine him or her,” she explained, placing her on her back to change her. “Have you named her yet, Mr. Gunner?”

  “No, I’m waiting for my fiancée to wake up.”

  “Sounds reasonable to me,” she said, removing her diaper. “I will explain everything you need to know, and everything you never thought to ask. When yo
u leave, you’ll be comfortable caring for her.” Her warm smile held some comfort. “However, we’ll wait until the baby’s mother is able to participate.”

  “I appreciate that. This is our first child, and I want to do everything together.” The words rolled off my tongue like it was meant to be. My father’s knuckles hit the window once, and I knew it was time to see my beauty. “I’ll be back soon,” I told the nurse before kissing my angel’s hand.

  It was time to see my beauty. Before my angel, she was my first glimpse of light in the depth of my darkness…

  I dreamed of you…wandering in the dark—or was that me? I reached for your hand. Just a little closer. I reached, but I couldn’t get to you. It’s so cold. I’m so cold…icy fingers of dread crawling along my bones…weaving juggernaut outlines of my life. Look at what you’ll never know, she cackled. I could feel another being there. Her voice strong, sure, and cruel. She floated out of the darkness with purpose and pointed her crooked finger at something I could not see. My eyes surrendered to follow through the darkness. I began to make out the silhouette of something small, wrapped in a white blanket.

  No…no…no…

  A baby lay swaddled in a downy white blanket. My feet were set, but I could see her plainly. The first thing that came into focus was her eyes. Bright and bold, the center was the deepest blue rimmed in black, focused and staring straight through my eyes and into my thoughts. They glistened softly with a reflection of some unknown light. Alluding to a hint of innocence and desperation in her stare. Even in total darkness, the pale creamy white of her skin, untainted, and without a single flaw was visible. My eyes darted around, looking for the unknown entity that lurked, and my arms sought to protect the baby. Keep her safe, the words echoed subconsciously. I hadn’t anyone to do so for me, and it was the most natural feeling in the world to me. Protect her, the words chased my thoughts. Wait, my baby. My hands roved over my lower torso, and I gasped at my soft, flattened stomach. Impossible, I thought. My heart skipped several beats and my pulse kicked to a galloping pace. I closed my eyes, trying to inhale…one breath in…one long breath out.