by Nikki Ash
My heart pangs at the thought. I want to be excited, but I’m also scared. I can feel it in my bones. I’m sick. The cancer is spreading, and I’m terrified every day that I’m not going to make it to see my baby being born. But I don’t tell Cole that. I made this decision, and I won’t for a second regret it.
“I’m really excited,” I say. “I can’t wait to meet him or her.”
“Have you spoken to Dr. Morton about starting your treatment as soon as the baby’s born?”
“I have. They’re monitoring me closely, and they have a game plan in order.”
“Good, because Delilah...” Cole looks over at me. “I can’t do this without you.”
chapter thirty-three
Cole
“...and this is the recovery floor.” Paula, the labor and delivery nurse, points to the hallway where several other nurses and doctors are bustling about. “Let’s take a look in an empty room so you know what you can expect.” She guides us to the first empty room, and we all congregate inside. There’s about ten of us here for the hospital tour. Paula has taken us by the registrar’s office to make sure we’re all situated and the paperwork is filled out, then to the labor and delivery ward.
Now we’re in the hospital wing where the women are taken to recover after they’ve had the baby. Being here makes it all feel so real. Like holy shit, we’re going to have an actual baby. One we’re responsible for loving and taking care of. And while all these couples are ecstatic, I’m freaking the hell out because Delilah’s situation isn’t like any of these other couples. She has abnormal cells that like to multiply in her body and slowly—or not so slowly—kill her. Every time I think about Delilah and how her body keeps working against her, I want to curse God. How could he make someone so beautiful on the inside and out and then make it to where she has to fear and fight for her life every goddamned day. She’s one of the good ones. Give cancer to the rapist or the pedophile! Not to Delilah. I mean, come the fuck on. My grandma used to say God only gives you what you can handle, but fuck, so because Delilah is strong, he’s going to just keep throwing this at her?
I take a deep breath, so I don’t get myself worked up. I just hate that while everyone is smiling and planning for the future, Delilah and I are silently praying for her to just simply live. I try every day to remain positive and strong, but it’s getting harder and harder.
“Hey Cole,” Delilah says softly, taking me out of my thoughts. “I’m not feeling too well. I think I need to...” She doesn’t finish her sentence because her eyes roll in the back of her head, and she goes limp. Luckily, I’m standing next to her and catch her before she falls. It takes me about a second before I realize Delilah has just passed out.
“I need a doctor!” I yell, and everyone looks at me as I lay her gently on the ground. “Now! She has cancer. I need Dr. Blake and Dr. Morton, now!”
Paula immediately jumps into action, and less than a minute later, everybody is removed from the room and several doctors are scurrying in. Using a gurney, they move her into a hospital bed and start checking her out.
“What’s her name?” one of the nurses asks.
“Her name is Delilah Cross. She has Hodgkin’s Lymphoma, and she’s thirty-five weeks pregnant,” I tell her.
“We’re going to need you to wait outside until we get her situated,” the nurse says as she walks me outside and into the waiting room.
“I’m the dad. Can you please let me know when you know anything?” I beg.
“I will.” She scurries away, and I drop to the chair, my head falling into my hands as I say a prayer for Delilah and our baby to be okay. Then I start calling everyone. I first call Delilah’s parents who tell me they’re on their way. Next, I call Xander and leave him a voicemail. I call Delilah’s obstetrician’s office and her oncologist just to be sure. I text Summer and let her know, and she texts back that she will let Delilah’s other friends know.
“Are you the father of Delilah Cross’s baby?” a nurse asks. Her nametag reads Lucy.
“I am,” I say, standing. “Is she okay?”
“Dr. Blake was on call and notified. He’s prepping her for an emergency cesarean. Her blood pressure was too high, so he wants to take the baby out now, so as not to risk infection to the mom due to her condition. They have her stable and gave her anesthesia for the surgery. Would you like to be in the room?”
“Yes, please.”
“Follow me.” Nurse Lucy hands me a set of scrubs, booties, and a cap. “Wash your hands twice, and I will be back to get you as soon as the doctor is ready.”
A few minutes later, she returns, and I follow her to a freezing cold surgical room. I walk around the corner and see Delilah laying on a medical bed. There’s a rectangular drape covering her entire lower half, but because I’m tall, I can see her pregnant belly on the other side.
The doctor is throwing out orders, and everyone is preparing for this birth, and me, I’m freaking the fuck out. The nurse moves a stool next to Delilah and tells me I can sit down, so I do. Delilah isn’t awake, so I take a moment to move a stray hair from out of her eyes, pushing it under the surgical cap.
“Alright, sweet girl,” I say, using Xander’s nickname for her. “It’s time. I need you to be strong, please. They’re going to take our baby out of you, and then you’re going to start getting better.” Bending over, I give her a kiss on her forehead.
“Dad,” I hear the doctor say, and I look up. “Do you have a camera?”
Oh shit! “No, I left my phone with my clothes.”
“I have one,” the nurse says with a smile. “I’ll take some pictures for you.”
“Thank you.”
“Okay, here we go,” Dr. Blake says. “Unless you have a strong stomach, don’t look over the sheet until I tell you to.” He gives me a wink, and out of morbid curiosity I look over the sheet. Delilah’s stomach is being cut open. The doctor presses on her stomach slightly and liquid gushes everywhere.
“And...it’s a...” The doctor pulls the balled up baby from inside Delilah. “...girl!” The nurses scramble to clean up the baby, and a few seconds later, our baby girl is screaming her head off. They do whatever they do while Dr. Blake starts to clean up Delilah.
“Here you are, Dad.” One of the nurses comes around and hands me my daughter, and for a brief second all is right in the world. The nurse with the camera takes a couple pictures as I look down at her. She has a tiny patch of brown hair, and her eyes are black. She’s squinting, trying to keep her eyes open, but it’s too hard. Her nose is scrunched up in a cute button shape that is identical to Delilah’s nose. Dipping my head, I kiss her nose.
“We have to take her to run some tests. Once we’re done, we’ll bring her to you.” And just like that, they whisk our baby girl away. I want to tell them to give her back, but I don’t. I know they need to do their job.
“Follow me,” Nurse Lucy says, “Dr. Blake needs to finish stitching up Delilah and then they’ll meet you in her room.”
After changing out of my scrubs and back into my clothes, I head back to the recovery ward where I spot Delilah’s parents and Summer.
“Is she okay?” Joanne cries. “Is my baby okay?”
“She’s okay. She had high blood pressure so they had to deliver the baby early, but she’s perfect. They both are.”
“It’s a girl?” She smiles through her tears.
“It’s a girl, and she looks just like Delilah.”
I give Summer a hug and thank her for coming, promising that once Delilah is awake and up for visitors, I will text her and let her know. Then Delilah’s parents and I head to her room to wait for her.
chapter thirty-four
Delilah
My head feels groggy like everything is in a haze. I attempt to open my eyes, but I’m so tired. I just need a small nap and then I’ll wake up rejuvenated. Then I remember why my eyes are closed. Cole and I were taking a tour of the hospital, and I started to feel light headed. Oh no! The baby. My eyes fly op
en, and I look down at my belly. It’s deflated. It’s not flat but there’s no longer a baby bump there. Where the hell is my baby?
“Cole,” I yell out, and he comes to my side. That’s when I look around and see my mom, dad, and Cole are all in the room with me. I’m still alive...
“Is the...is the baby okay?” I ask.
“She’s perfect,” Cole says. She? The baby is a girl? “How are you feeling?”
“Tired...kind of out of it,” I admit.
“You gave us a scare.” Cole half-smiles. “Here, take a sip of water and then I’ll introduce you to our little girl.” He presses a button that slowly raises my bed so I’m sitting up, then he hands me a cup of water. I take a sip, wetting my mouth and throat, before I hand it back to him.
“Oh, sweetheart,” my mom coos. “I’m so glad you’re okay.” She kisses my forehead then backs up so my dad can do the same.
“Alright, Delilah,” Cole says, “I would like for you to formally meet your daughter.” He places the most angelic, bundled up baby girl into my arms and the tears instantly fall.
“She’s perfect,” I cry, and then because I have to make sure everything is perfect, I undo her blanket, ignoring the fact that she’s sleeping. I lay her on my lap, and she starts whimpering. I count her ten fingers and ten toes. Then I undo her diaper and check that she has all her parts. Her belly button still has the brown looking stump I remember reading about. It will dry up and fall off in the next week or two. I close her diaper back up and run my fingers down the side of her face. It startles her awake, and she starts crying, and my heart picks up speed at the beautiful sound.
“Most moms try to let their babies sleep,” the nurse chides, walking into the room. She smiles at me and hands me a tiny bottle.
“I know. I just wanted to make sure she’s okay.” I look down at my daughter’s coal eyes and wonder what color they will end up being. Light brown like mine or black like Cole’s?
“Understandable. Her Apgar scores came back perfect. She weighed in at six pounds two ounces which is a great weight, especially for being a little over four weeks early. Why don’t you feed her and if you have any questions, Cole can come get me so I can help.”
“I need to go pee,” I say.
“You’re on a catheter. I’ll remove it once you’re done feeding her.”
“Thank you.”
I swaddle my baby girl back up and, settling her into my arms, feed her for the first time.
“So, now that you know it’s a girl, what are you going to name her?” my mom asks.
“I was thinking about Zoey for her first name, and for her middle name Amelia.” I look to Cole for his approval.
“You want to give her my mom’s name as her middle name?” His eyes are glossy with unshed tears.
“Well, Zoey is my mom’s, grandma’s, and my middle name so I thought it would be perfect. She could have a piece of both of us.”
“Oh, sweetheart,” my mom murmurs, coming over to me for a hug. “I think it’s beautiful.”
“I agree,” Cole says. “Zoey Amelia.”
“Zoey Amelia Andrews,” I say, and he smiles.
I watch Zoey drink her bottle, and for a few minutes everything feels simply perfect.
“Oh my god! Cole!” My hands cover my mouth in shock and awe as I take in the amazing nursery Cole created for our daughter. “It’s perfect! It’s everything I wanted.” I turn to face him. “You did all of this yourself?” My eyes follow along the light pink wall in front of me to the golden moon and array of stars. Underneath them is a comfy-looking white rocking chair. On another wall, directly above a white washed wooden changing table, there’s a cluster of stars, and in the middle is the quote: We wished upon a shooting star and twinkle twinkle here you are.
“Well, except for setting up the furniture. I left that to the experts.”
“Cole,” I say his name again because I’m in shock. “I can’t believe you did this.” My gaze goes to another wall. There’s a beautiful matching crib and directly above it, another quote: We love you more than a thousand shooting stars.
I step into the middle of the room and try to take it all in. It’s everything I circled in the baby books: the bedding, the lamp, the rug. Cole took everything I circled and ran with it, turning it into the most gorgeous nursery.
“Wait a second!” I exclaim. “How did you know she was a girl?”
Cole chuckles. “I might’ve cheated and asked Dr. Blake.”
“Thank you.” I cut across the room and pull him into a hug. “Thank you for making my dreams come true.”
We’re standing in the room hugging when I hear the front door open. We separate, and a second later, Xander enters the nursery, dressed head-to-toe in his basketball gear. “Where is she? Where’s the princess?”
“I’m right here,” I joke, wiping my tears, and he grins.
“As good as it is to see you, I’m looking for a tinier, cuter princess.”
While I was in the hospital, Xander must’ve texted me a million times apologizing for not being able to make it when Zoey was born. He said too many times to count that he hated not being able to meet her in the hospital, and I told him just as many times that I understood. He’s in the middle of his season.
Xander is about to give me a hug when Cole stops him. “Wash your hands and use the hand sanitizer first,” he says. He’s been like this since Dr. Morton visited me in the hospital after Zoey was born. All it took was Dr. Morton saying he’s concerned about my white blood cell count being low to send Cole into overprotective mode.
“Yes sir.” Xander gives Cole a two-finger salute and leaves the room to wash his hands. I make my way back out to the living room and place Zoey into the portable bassinet before sitting down on the couch. Cole, of course, excuses himself to the other room.
“How are you feeling, sweet girl?” Xander asks, pulling me into a hug.
“Like they cut me open and took a baby out of me.” I wink, and Xander laughs.
He looks into the bassinet, and I see the huge smile on his face. “Jesus, woman, if I knew you made such pretty babies, I would’ve knocked you up first.”
“Oh my god!” I laugh. “Shut up!” I slap Xander’s chest, and he grunts. “But she is beautiful, isn’t she?”
“She’s the perfect mix of both of you,” Xander says softly, staring down at my sleeping daughter.
“Xander,” I say to get his attention. “Would you maybe want to be her Godfather? I know I’m supposed to have a Godmother and father, but well...I just want you.”
“Oh, sweet girl,” Xander murmurs. “It would be my honor.”
chapter thirty-five
Delilah
“There you go. Burp for mommy,” I coo to my daughter, and just like the perfect little princess she is, she burps like a trucker. I laugh as I wipe her mouth. Who knew something as insignificant as my baby burping could make my heart feel so full. Well, I guess it’s not really the burping itself, but getting to experience the moment. Getting to feed her and change her diaper and give her baths. Getting to hold her and kiss her. It’s like a dream come true.
“Is she done?” Cole walks into the nursery holding his arms out, but I don’t want to give her up just yet. I know he’s just trying to help, but right now I’m feeling good. Since I’ve started my treatments, most days are rough, and that’s putting it mildly. There were a few moments when I felt so sick and weak I almost wished for death to take me. But right now I’m feeling okay, and I’m going to soak up every second I can with my daughter, knowing at any moment I can go back to feeling sick. My treatments are every three weeks, leaving me two weeks in between to recoup. They’re monitoring my blood cell count. It’s the reason I passed out and had to deliver Zoey early. My white cell count was too low. If it drops like that again, they’ll be forced to hold off any further treatment.
“She is, but I think I’m going to hold her a little longer,” I tell Cole, and he grants me a soft smile. I know he wants
to tell me not to overdo it, but he doesn’t say anything. Instead he dips his head and gives me a kiss on my forehead, then dipping lower, he gives Zoey one. He’s been amazing since we came home. He took a few weeks off of work and has been doting on Zoey and me every second of every day.
“I’m going to do some laundry. If you need anything just let me know.” He leaves the nursery, and my gaze goes back to my little girl. Her eyes are fluttering open, somewhere in between being awake and falling asleep, satisfied and content with a full belly. Raising her body to my nose, I sniff her, attempting to memorize her baby smell. If I could, I would bottle it up so I could have it with me when I’m stuck in the hospital for hours getting treatment. I hate any moment away from Zoey.
After rocking my baby girl to sleep, I bring her with me into my room and lay her down in her bassinet so we can take a nap together. “Sweet dreams,” I whisper. “Mommy loves you.”
“Good morning, sunshine. Did you sleep good?” I open my eyes to find the best view in the world. Cole is sitting up in our bed, holding our daughter and talking to her like she understands everything he’s saying. I love that he calls her sunshine. The first time he called her that, I asked why, and he said she’s the brightest part of everything. I happen to agree.
“Morning.” Cole smiles at me. “How are you feeling?”
I stretch my body out, and although I feel sore for so many reasons, I say, “I feel good.” He frowns slightly but doesn’t call me out on it. “How long was I asleep for?”
“Twelve hours. It’s five in the morning.”
“Geez, I guess I was tired. I can’t believe I slept through her waking up.” I frown. Scooting closer to Cole and our daughter, I give her a kiss. “What if she needed me and you weren’t here?”
“I moved the bassinet out to the living room, so don’t go there. You’re an amazing mom. You just gave birth a couple weeks ago, via C-section no less, and you’re going through chemo. Give yourself a break, please.”
