Chasing Someday

by Lindzee Armstrong

  A few minutes later Christina heard a siren, and Dr. Blakely helped her stand. A nurse brought in a wheelchair. The waiting room was full of people with wide, curious stares, but Christina didn’t care. Two EMTs were already pulling a stretcher out of the ambulance, and they raced toward her.

  The trip to the hospital was a blur. An EMT took Christina’s blood pressure and started an IV. At the hospital they were met by Dr. Henderson and raced up to labor and delivery. Nurses swarmed around her, and two monitors were hooked to Christina’s stomach.

  “Heartbeat one sixty-seven,” a nurse told Dr. Henderson. “Contractions three minutes apart.”

  “Start a magnesium drip,” Dr. Henderson said. “Christina, you’re definitely in labor. The magnesium sulfate will make you feel horrible, but it’ll hopefully stop the contractions.”

  “What if you can’t stop them?” Christina asked, her voice high with panic.

  “Let’s not think about that.”

  “Gary.” Christina gasped as another pain—what she now knew to be a contraction—overcame her body. “I need my husband.”

  The doctor nodded at a nurse, who hurried out of the room saying, “I’ll call him.”

  Christina knew Gary was in Provo for a client meeting. It would take him at least an hour to get to her. An entire hour of pure, unadulterated fear.

  That hour was a blur. Doctors and nurses swarmed around Christina, but despite their best efforts, they couldn’t make the contractions stop. They got harder and harder, and Christina felt the overwhelming need to push.

  “No!” she screamed, clenching the bed rails. Her vision blurred from the magnesium—a muscle relaxant—and she fought the urge to throw up. “It’s too soon.”

  Gary rushed into the room, and Christina sobbed in relief.

  “They can’t make it stop,” she said. He grabbed her hand, looking at the doctor for confirmation.

  Dr. Henderson’s eyes locked on Christina’s. “This will be the hardest thing you have ever done, but I need you to push.”

  Christina turned her head into Gary’s shoulder and sobbed. Their baby’s heartbeat, strong and steady on the monitor, pounded in her ears.

  “It’s too soon.” Christina stared up at Gary, and his eyes were wide and haunted. She wanted to stay in that moment forever, holding onto her baby. As soon as she pushed, it would be all over.

  Another contraction hit, hard and painful. Christina’s breath caught.

  “Now,” Dr. Henderson said. “Christina, push!”

  It was impossible to fight the pressing need. Gary gripped her hand, and she bore down.

  Beep beep beep. The heartbeat, strong and clear.

  Christina gritted her teeth and gave a mighty push.

  Beeeeeeeeepppppppp. The heart monitor flat lined.

  There was no mad rush to save their baby’s life. A nurse took the infant and placed it on the scales.

  “What is it?” Christina gasped. She and Gary had decided they wanted to be surprised, and hadn’t found out the gender at their ultrasound. Had that really only been last week?

  “It’s a girl,” Dr. Henderson said.

  A daughter. Christina held a hand to her mouth.

  The nurse came over, a bundle tinier than Christina thought possible cradled in her arms. “Would you like to hold her?”

  Christina nodded, holding out her arms. The nurse gave her the bundle of blankets, so light Christina could almost imagine their baby wasn’t inside. Could pretend she was still pregnant.

  “Thirteen ounces,” the nurse said. “Eleven inches long.”

  Christina looked at her baby’s face, and the tears fell harder. The baby was so tiny, so perfect. She pulled back the blanket, counting all ten fingers and toes. She had Christina’s nose and Gary’s chin.

  “She’s beautiful,” Gary said, his words choked.

  “I’m so sorry,” the nurse said, and Christina saw tears glisten in her eyes. “We’ll clean her up, and you can have family come and say their goodbyes if you’d like.”

  “No,” Christina said quickly. This moment didn’t belong to anyone else. “I don’t want anyone else here. Can I hold her a while longer?”

  The nurse nodded, and soon they were alone. Just Christina, Gary, and their daughter’s tiny body.

  “Why couldn’t you stay with us, little one?” Christina whispered, stroking the baby’s head. “We worked so hard for you.”

  “Can I hold her?” Gary asked. Christina nodded and transferred the baby, overwhelmed by blankets, into his arms. He started to sob—great, wracking sounds that ripped through her. Sounds Christina had never heard from her husband before.

  “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’m sorry for waiting so long for you. I’m so sorry.”

  A nurse came in a while later. Christina stood, sore but determined, and she and Gary helped bathe their baby girl. The nurse gave them a tiny gown to dress her in. A photographer arrived, somber but professional, and took the first—and only—family photos they’d ever have with their little girl.

  Then they took her away. The grief counselor arrived, and then the doctor.

  “What happened?” Christina asked Dr. Henderson. “Why did I go into labor?”

  “I believe you have what we call an incompetent cervix. It can’t stand the pressure of a baby, and once the fetus gets too big, your cervix starts to dilate and you go into labor.”

  Christina hung her head. It was her fault. Her body’s fault.

  “What do we do now?” Gary asked.

  “When you’re ready, we can discuss it in more detail. But basically, the next time you get pregnant, we’ll perform a surgery at about fifteen weeks and sew the cervix closed. It’s called a cerclage.” He placed a hand gently on her arm. “You did nothing wrong, Christina. Unfortunately, the only way to diagnose this problem is when something like this happens.”

  “If I’d come in this morning, could you have stopped labor?” Christina didn’t want to ask, but the question haunted her.

  Dr. Henderson’s eyes were hooded. “There’s no way we can speculate over that. I am so sorry for your loss.”

  But Christina had her answer in his eyes. If she had come in earlier, she might still be pregnant. Might still be listening to the beep beep beep of her baby’s heartbeat.

  Might not be mourning the loss of her only child. Her firstborn. The daughter they’d gone through hell and back to conceive.

  “I want to go home,” Christina said. “When can we leave?”

  “As soon as you feel up to it,” Dr. Henderson said. “We can keep you overnight for observation if you’d like.”

  “I’m ready to go.”

  “I’ll have a nurse bring in the discharge papers.”

  Two hours later, Gary pulled into their garage and helped Christina from the car. She walked slowly up the stairs and into the mud room. The house felt empty. So frighteningly silent. She started to cry again.

  Gary’s arms held her tight. “Let’s get you upstairs. You need to rest.”

  “We need to let people know,” Christina choked out.

  “I’ll take care of it.”

  “I’m sorry, Gary.” Christina sobbed, turning in his arms. She caught his gaze, begging for understanding. “I had no idea I was in labor. If I had known . . .”

  “Shhh.” He put his finger to her lips. “Don’t you dare blame yourself. It isn’t your fault.”

  “It hurts so bad.”

  “I know. I want her back, too.”

  “Grace. She should have a name, and I want it to be Grace.”

  “Can I help make dinner?” Sophie asked Kyra, wandering into the kitchen. Sophie had turned into quite the helper. The last three months she’d thrown herself into the adoption. While Kyra tracked down documents and filled out paperwork, Sophie had patiently practiced changing diapers on her baby doll. She’d helped Kyra organize the yard sale to earn money, and then put on her adorable smile and helped sell most of the items. She’d eagerly offered input on
the scrapbook Kyra had made for the expectant mothers to look through.

  Last week, their profile went online with the agency the crisis center had recommended. Now it was a waiting game.

  “Of course you can help, baby girl,” Kyra said.

  Sophie frowned. “I’m not your baby anymore, Mommy.”

  Kyra’s heart cracked. Sophie had turned four right before Halloween, and all traces of toddler were disappearing. “No, I guess you aren’t.”

  “Can I squish the potatoes?”

  “Sure.” Kyra helped Sophie onto a chair and handed her the potato masher. “Let me know when you’re finished, and I’ll get the beaters.”

  The telephone rang and Kyra fished it from her pocket. The number for their caseworker, Molly, scrolled across the screen.

  Kyra’s heart stuttered, then started pounding. She scrambled to answer the phone. “Hello?”

  “Are you sitting down, Kyra?” Molly asked.

  A birth mother was interested. That had to be it. “No, I’m making dinner. What’s up?”

  “Another caseworker called me. She has a birth mother delivering in a few weeks, and she wants to meet you and David as soon as possible.”

  Kyra nearly dropped the phone. “Are you serious?”

  “I wouldn’t joke about this. Her name is Sienna. She said she knows Megan. Do you know who she’s talking about?”

  Sienna. Megan’s piano student. The girl Megan talked of with such fondness. The girl Kyra had bumped into a few months ago when picking up Sophie. And she was with the same agency as them. “Yes, I know Megan. When can we meet Sienna?”

  “Friday afternoon, here at the office. Her mother will be with her.”

  “What time?” David could cancel whatever was going on at work for this. He’d have to. This could be it. Kyra’s heart galloped in her chest.

  They ironed out the details, and Kyra hung up.

  “Mommy, are the potatoes squished enough?” Sophie asked.

  “Keep squishing. I’ve got to call Daddy.” David would be thrilled.

  Kyra’s fingers dug into David’s arm as they waited in the conference room for Sienna and her mother to arrive.

  “Why are you nervous?” David asked, prying Kyra’s hand from his arm. He laced his fingers through hers. “You said you’ve met her before.”

  “Only briefly. And not like this.”

  “Well, she obviously liked you enough to set up this appointment.”

  Kyra had been analyzing that first meeting in excruciating detail. Had she been friendly? Positive? Cheerful? Knowing she’d met Sienna before almost made Kyra more nervous.

  The door swung open and Molly walked in. Kyra’s hands felt clammy, and she wiped them discreetly on her jeans as they stood. If this went well, they could walk away with a baby.

  A rustle at the door had Kyra’s stomach jumping. In walked Sienna. She hadn’t changed much since Kyra last saw her, other than the size of her stomach. Sienna had the same long blonde hair, the same scared blue eyes. Kyra couldn’t imagine how hard this must be for her. Kyra’s heart leapt and fell in her chest with each breath she took. She wanted to run and hug Sienna. Wanted to stay frozen so that she couldn’t ruin this. Two other women followed Sienna into the room, presumably her mother and caseworker.

  “Thanks for coming today,” Molly said.

  Like they would’ve refused the introduction. Sienna was considering giving them her baby. They would meet her whenever and wherever she wanted.

  “I’m Rebecca, Sienna’s caseworker,” the woman holding a file folder said. “This is Annabelle, Sienna’s mother. And this is Sienna.”

  Kyra smiled, hoping it said “I’m happy to meet you” and not “Give me your baby. I’m desperate.” Kyra held her hand out to both of them and prayed they didn’t notice how it shook. “I’m Kyra, and this is David.” David held his hand out as well.

  “We’ve met before,” Sienna said. “At Megan’s.”

  So she did remember. Of course she remembered. Kyra should’ve mentioned it first. Did Sienna think Kyra was trying to hide her relationship with Megan? Kyra needed to calm down. All she could do was be herself.

  “We’ll leave you to talk,” Molly said. “Rebecca and I will be in our offices if you need anything.”

  They left, the door clicking shut behind them. Silence fell over the room like a suffocating blanket. What were they supposed to do now? Kyra should’ve asked Molly. She didn’t want to blow this. “Thank you so much for meeting with us,” Kyra said finally.

  “Megan said your little girl wants a baby brother.” Sienna’s hand dropped to her stomach. “Is that true?”

  Kyra mouth fell open, but she closed it quickly. Obviously Megan and Sienna had talked about this at length. Kyra admired Megan for keeping Sienna’s confidence. “She prays for one every night.”

  “When Rebecca sent your profile, I recognized Sophie in the photo.” Tears filled Sienna’s eyes. “Your profile is the only one that’s ever made me cry. I think I knew you were his family almost immediately.”

  Kyra’s heart pounded. Did she just say what Kyra thought she’d said? Kyra had expected a polite interview. But it sounded like Sienna had already made her decision.

  “Do you mean . . .” Kyra trailed off, unable to finish that sentence.

  Sienna looked away. Annabelle’s arm went around her daughter’s shoulders. “Sienna’s been trying to find a family for months. She’s poured over every file.”

  “No one’s ever felt right,” Sienna said. “Until you.”

  A baby. Was this really happening? David’s eyes were wide with shock.

  “Wow,” he said. “We’re honored.”

  Sienna’s hand went to her belly. “I know he’d be your baby, not mine. But it would be nice to be Aunt Sienna. To come to his birthday parties and send him Christmas presents. I don’t want to confuse him or be the mom.” Her voice choked. “I just want to know he’s okay. Megan said you’re interested in an open adoption.”

  Kyra glanced at David. He nodded. They’d discussed this in detail.

  “We want our baby to know the wonderful person who gave him life,” Kyra said. “We’re happy to have you as Aunt Sienna.”

  Sienna wiped away the tears running down her cheeks. “Do you play the piano?”

  Kyra’s heart hammered. Would this be a deal breaker? “No, but Sophie is begging for lessons.”

  “I’m moving to Pennsylvania in January to study music, and I’ve composed a lullaby for the baby. I was hoping if I put it on a CD, you’d play it for him every night before bed.”

  Tears filled Kyra’s eyes. Sienna loved her baby so much. “Of course. We’d be honored.”

  “I’m not considering any other families right now. I don’t want you to worry. You’re it.” Sienna leaned forward, placing her elbows on the conference table. “You know Megan pretty well, huh?”

  “She goes to my church, and we’ve worked together on a book and coat drive. I consider her a dear friend.”

  “Megan helped me realize it was okay to place my baby for adoption.” Sienna glanced over at Annabelle. “Mom and Dad kept telling me I should, but Megan’s the one who helped me make a decision. Every time I looked at profiles, I kept thinking of her, and what a great mom she’ll be. And I wanted someone like that for my baby.”

  “Megan’s a wonderful person,” Kyra said, not sure where Sienna was going with this.

  “If you’re friends with her, you must be pretty cool. And I know you’ll be great parents too, just like them.”

  Kyra leaned forward. “Is that why you’re picking us, because we’re Megan’s friends?”

  “No, I’m picking you because it’s right. But knowing you’re friends with Megan makes this easier. I respect her.”

  “Me too.” Kyra swallowed hard and asked the question that burned. “Is the father around?”

  Annabelle made a noise of disgust.

  “Dane doesn’t want anything to do with the baby. He told me it was m
y problem.” Sienna wrapped her arms around her stomach. “But this baby isn’t a problem. He’s a blessing. Your blessing. It’s not his fault Dane and I made a mistake.”

  “He is a blessing,” Kyra said. David reached out, and Kyra took his hand in hers. “He absolutely is.”

  Another day of bed rest. Megan sighed, shifting uncomfortably on the couch. It was only ten o’clock, and already she was bored.

  She had just decided on a new TV series to watch on Netflix when her cell phone rang. She picked it up, surprised. Christina? She never called during school hours. Megan paused Netflix and answered the phone. “Hey, what’s up? Aren’t you supposed to be in class right now?”

  “I didn’t go to work today.” Christina’s voice was thick and full of emotion, but dead somehow at the same time.

  Megan pushed herself upright, gripping the phone. “What’s wrong?”

  Christina cleared her throat. “I went into labor yesterday and had the baby. A little girl.”

  Megan stood, already walking toward the door. “Christina, please tell me . . .”

  “She’s gone.”

  The hand holding her cell phone trembled. Megan slipped her feet into shoes and shrugged into her coat, closing the door behind her. “Oh, Christina.”

  “I wanted to tell you before you heard it from someone else.”

  “I’m coming over.”

  “No, really, it’s fine.”

  “I’m already here.”

  The phone went silent, and Megan wondered if Christina had hung up. The front door slowly opened. Christina eyes were red-rimmed, her face devoid of makeup. Her red-orange curls splayed every which way, frizzy and uncharacteristically free. Megan disconnected the call and pushed her phone into her pocket.

  “I’m so sorry,” Megan whispered, holding out her arms.

  Christina fell into them without a word, and for a moment they stood there, holding each other tightly. A baby kicked, and Megan closed her eyes tight. Please keep them safe, Megan prayed. Oh, God, why?

  “What happened?” Megan asked.

  Christina pulled back, wiping under one eye to clear away a tear. “Can you come in?”