by Laura Iding
She needed to stop imagining the worst.
“Have you seen the babies yet today?” he asked, changing the subject.
“Yes. I tried to nurse again this morning, but they didn’t do very well again. So I learned all about the breast pump.” She made a face.
“I thought it took a few days for your milk to come in?” he asked, as if having a detailed conversation about breast-feeding was perfectly natural.
Which didn’t give the impression he was having second thoughts.
“It does. But the colostrum that’s there before the milk comes in is very good for the babies, too, and my milk won’t come in unless I nurse.” Darn it, she could feel her cheeks getting warm again. Why was she embarrassed? Their tentative relationship seemed to be going well; there was no reason for her to overreact like this.
“And they’re still breathing fine on their own?”
She nodded. “Yes, even Gretchen, although she seems to be having more of that apneic breathing that they’re so concerned about. Grace has it, too, but I guess Gretchen’s percentages are a little higher.”
“Hmm. Something to ask Louis about, I guess. Do you mind if we go down to see them again?” Jadon asked. “Or if you’re too tired, I can go myself.”
“I’m not too tired,” she assured him, getting up out of bed. She was moving much better today and, as Kim had promised, was hardly sore at all. She’d spent over two hours in the level-three nursery that morning, but she didn’t mind going again.
Soon the babies would be her responsibility, full-time. Jadon would help, but she’d still better get used to it.
“Do you realize the girls are now a little more than twenty-four hours old?” Jadon announced as they made their way down the hall.
She had to smile. “Yes, I know. I was there, too, remember?”
“It’s just so amazing.” He took her hand again and she reveled in the closeness as they made their way through to the nursery.
This time she took Grace and Jadon took Gretchen. Although Gretchen was very sleepy, they traded off after a while.
Louis Downer came in to make rounds while they were there. “Hi, Jadon. Alyssa, how are you feeling today?”
“I’m fine, although I’m a little worried about how the girls still aren’t suckling very much,” she admitted.
“I know. But we’ll give them tube feedings so they’ll still grow fine.” He glanced at the babies they held in their respective grasps. “Which one is Gretchen?”
“I have Gretchen,” Alyssa said. “Why?”
“I’d like to examine her first. Her chest X-ray didn’t look as good as I would have liked this morning.”
Alarmed, she glanced at Jadon as she handed the infant to the neonatologist. “Do you think she’s sick?”
“Just something to keep an eye on,” he assured her, as he took the tiny twin. He gently set her back in her isolette, and then unwrapped the blanket from around her chest so he could listen. After he’d removed the stethoscope from his ears, he picked up her clipboard and reviewed her vital signs.
Alyssa craned her neck, so she could see, too.
“Well?” Jadon asked, when Louis set the clipboard aside and turned back toward them.
“She’s started to run a slight fever,” Louis admitted. “I’m going to treat her with IV antibiotics because I suspect she’s showing early signs of pneumonia.”
CHAPTER TEN
JADON wanted to reassure Alyssa that Gretchen would be all right, but it was difficult to put aside his own fears. She was so tiny, it was hard to imagine how her immune system would fight off something as serious as pneumonia. And there was the additional concern about how well her premature kidneys would tolerate the antibiotics. Not to mention how she’d maintain her oxygenation levels with lungs full of infection.
There was no doubt the next twenty-four hours would be critical for Gretchen.
And there was nothing he could do to help her.
Alyssa refused to leave. Watching her keeping vigil over Gretchen was difficult. After several hours Jadon had had enough. “You need some rest,” he pointed out in a low tone. “And it’s close to dinnertime. Let’s go back to your room.”
“No. I want to stay here.” Alyssa had been staring at the monitor over Gretchen’s isolette for so long she was starting to look like a zombie. It was as if her emotions had completely shut down. He understood how she felt—he’d always done the same thing when faced with one of Jack’s crises, shutting away the pain so it couldn’t hurt. Still, he didn’t like the idea of Alyssa sitting by the girls’ isolettes all night long.
“Alyssa, look at me,” he demanded in a sharp tone, breaking through her zombie-like stare.
Reluctantly, she turned to meet his gaze, her eyes dull with resigned acceptance.
“Wearing yourself to the brink of exhaustion isn’t good for you or for Grace. We have two daughters, remember? You need to eat, to keep up your strength and your nutrition, as you’ve told me you want to continue to provide breast milk for them.”
Alyssa slowly nodded, as if agreeing with him. But she didn’t move to leave.
He intended to keep pushing, to do what was best no matter what it took. He reached down, grasped her hand and tugged her to her feet. “Let’s go. We need to head back to your room.”
For a heart-stopping moment Alyssa looked as if she might burst into tears, but she allowed herself to be drawn upright. “You’re right. I know you are. But I just can’t bear to leave her. What if something happens while we’re gone?”
He understood her angst because he felt it, too. He pulled her into his arms, enfolding her in a warm hug. “I know it’s difficult to leave, but she’ll be okay.”
Alyssa didn’t push him away as he half expected, but clung to him, burying her face against his chest, as if she couldn’t stand under her own power. He could feel the dampness of her tears soaking his shirt. He held her close for countless minutes as he silently offered his strength and support, drawing strength from her closeness as well.
It was much easier to face the hardship together.
Although hardships also had the power to drag people apart, too.
Finally she drew a ragged breath and lifted her head. “Do you think Carla will call us if anything changes?”
He lifted his hands to cradle her face, using his thumbs to wipe away her tears. “Yes, I know she will. But I honestly think Gretchen is going to be fine. Louis Downer is a good doctor. Our daughter is getting the best care available. Besides, Gretch is a fighter. She’ll be fine, you’ll see.”
“She barely weighs three pounds,” Alyssa murmured, swinging around to stare down at Gretchen lying in her isolette. Both babies had lost a few ounces after the delivery, which was completely normal.
“I know,” he soothed, despite the grim certainty of knowing there were no guarantees. “But think about all these other tiny babies, most of them less than three pounds, and they’re doing all right.”
Alyssa’s mouth turned up in a watery smile. “They are all very tiny, aren’t they? You’re right, Gretchen is one of the larger babies in here. She’ll fight this and win.”
“Of course she will.” He slid his arm around her waist, turning her slowly away from the babies and encouraging her to walk along with him out of the nursery.
“How did she get pneumonia so quickly?” she fretted as they made their way back to her room.
“She was in utero longer than Grace,” he reminded her. “Maybe she aspirated during the delivery.”
He’d heard the story about his and Jack’s birth and the circumstances were eerily similar to those of Grace and Gretchen. Except he’d been the smaller, younger baby, in fact, much smaller than Gretchen.
He slammed a door on those wayward thoughts. The last thing he wanted to do was to draw comparisons between his daughters and how events had unfolded between him and his brother. There were plenty of neonates who got sick. A little pneumonia wasn’t the end of the world.
And no matter
what, he was going to pay attention to both of his children—focusing on their strengths and offering encouragement no matter how different their personalities.
He managed to keep Alyssa resting in her room for a full hour while they ate dinner, but when they’d finished, she insisted on returning to the nursery.
He accompanied her back to see Grace and Gretchen, noting the nursing staff had been required to change Gretchen’s IV site already because her other one had blown. Knowing it was a common occurrence for infants didn’t make looking at her bruised yet delicate skin any easier.
“Poor Gretch,” Alyssa murmured.
“Let me hold her for a while,” he said to the nurse. “I’ll keep her in the isolette as she’s getting another dose of antibiotics, but I’ll cradle her in my hands for a bit.”
“Of course,” Carla said, gesturing to the isolette. “Go right ahead. The more you hold her, the more she’ll become used to your scent and your touch.”
“I know.” He gently lifted a listless Gretchen off the blanket, drawing the tip of his finger down the side of her cheek in a slight caress.
He’d tried to be strong for Alyssa, but as he stared down at Gretchen, he silently prayed his tiny daughter would make it through unscathed. That she’d not only make it over this hurdle of pneumonia but also over all the other hurdles she’d face throughout her life.
There were some things he couldn’t do for her. And fighting off this infection was one of those things. There would be others as well.
The responsibility of fatherhood weighed heavily on his shoulders.
Alyssa had to bite her lip hard to prevent herself from crying out as Dr. Downer placed a tiny CPAP mask over Gretchen’s face, the device totally engulfing her cute button nose and perfectly formed mouth. The apparatus seemed overly large and invasive against her tiny, dainty features.
Her daughter was sick. Very sick. And she couldn’t simply tell herself Gretchen would get through this, because she wasn’t certain she would.
How could such a small baby fight off a life-threatening infection?
And why wouldn’t Jadon talk about his feelings?
Later that night, she followed Jadon back to her room. He stayed for a while, but then went home for a bit. When he left, she slipped out of bed and went back to the nursery.
The neonatal nurses looked at her with kind empathy, suggesting she needed to get some sleep, but she ignored their advice.
What if the mask didn’t work? She was too afraid Gretchen was going to need a breathing tube in her lungs and be placed on a ventilator.
“It’s after midnight, Ms. Knight,” Evie, the night nurse, said in her soft, quiet voice. “You really should go back to your room to get some rest.”
“Are you telling me I have to leave?” Alyssa asked sharply, annoyed by the nurse’s prodding. “I was under the impression I could stay for as long as I wanted.”
Evie’s eyes widened at her vehement tone. “Not at all, but wearing yourself out isn’t good for you either. I’m only concerned about your welfare.”
Alyssa closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She shouldn’t have snapped, but in that moment the nightshift nurse had sounded so much like Jadon she hadn’t been able to help her response.
“I’m sorry,” she murmured to Evie. “I’ll leave, soon.”
Her anger wasn’t really aimed at the nurse but toward Jadon. Over the past few hours she’d realized she resented how easily he’d gone home, leaving her here all alone. Granted, he’d been exhausted, and she’d noticed how he’d tossed and turned in the recliner. Still, she’d wanted him to stay.
Slowly she rose to her feet, understanding Evie was right. If she didn’t get some rest, she wouldn’t be any help to Grace or Gretchen.
If only Jadon were still here with her. Maybe then she wouldn’t have felt so alone.
The next morning, the uncomfortable tautness in her breasts confirmed her milk was coming in.
Good news that she’d be able to provide healthy nourishment for Gracie and Gretchen.
Especially Gretchen, who needed the extra boost now more than ever.
She went to the nursery for more attempts at nursing, and Grace did suckle for almost ten minutes, a record for the little one, but Gretchen was still wearing her mask, so nursing wasn’t an option.
She used the breast pump to provide milk for Gretchen’s tube feedings, taking time to hold the baby close for some additional bonding.
Kim showed up in her room after she’d finished with the girls.
“Good morning, how are you doing today?” Kim asked.
Alyssa’s smile was strained. “Fair, although I’d be much better if Gretchen’s pneumonia would clear up.”
“I know.” Kim’s expression softened as she continued, “You know, according to hospital policy, I’m supposed to discharge you today. However, considering Gretchen’s tenuous condition, and the fact that you’re breast-feeding, I could probably extend your stay one more day.”
She sucked in a quick, hopeful breath. “Really? You could do that for me?”
“Yes. I think I could make it work so your insurance will cover the extra day, too.”
“That would be wonderful,” Alyssa admitted. “Not that I’m thrilled with the idea of staying here in the hospital rather than being home in my own bed, but I really want to be close to the girls for a little while longer.”
“I understand,” Kim said with a smile. “Leaving your babies here while you go home is probably going to be difficult. And I can only promise one more day. Just remember you can come in to visit anytime.”
“Thanks, Dr. Rayborn,” she said gratefully. “I really do appreciate the extra time.”
“No problem. Please pay attention to your own body, too, though. You did just give birth and we need to make sure you’re fully healed as well. How have you been doing? Everything all right? No aches or pains, or problems that you might not have paid attention to?”
She hid a wince, knowing all her attention had been centered on Grace and Gretchen. She thought back over the past few days. “Well, now that you mention it, I did notice a little burning last night when I emptied my bladder.”
Kim arched a brow. “Hmm. Maybe you have a bladder infection. We’ll send a sample to the lab and start you on antibiotics.”
“Antibiotics?” she echoed in alarm. This was exactly why she hadn’t said anything right away. “But I’m breast-feeding. I don’t want to take anything that will harm the babies. Why don’t we wait to see if the infection will clear up on its own? I’ll drink extra cranberry juice, I promise.”
“Cranberry juice is a good idea, but I don’t want to take any chances. The antibiotic is very mild and it won’t hurt the babies at all,” Kim reassured her. “Don’t worry.”
“Okay,” she reluctantly agreed.
Jadon returned to the hospital earlier than the day before and at least he looked better, not nearly as tired and exhausted as the day before.
“Good morning,” he greeted her with a smile. “Has Kim been in yet? Are you officially discharged?”
“Kim has been in, but I’m not going to be discharged today,” she told him. “Turns out I have a bladder infection, for one thing. And she thought as Gretchen is so sick, she could work it out so that I can stay for another day.”
“Oh.” Was that a flash of disappointment in his eyes? “Well, it’s good that you can be close to Grace and Gretchen for another day.”
“Are you ready to see the girls?” she asked, swinging her legs out of bed. “My milk has come in, so I was able to nurse Grace this morning, but Gretchen had to settle for tube feedings.”
“Sure.” He smiled again, and took her hand as they went down the hall toward the nursery.
When they arrived, though, Dr. Downer was standing in front of Gretchen’s isolette with his stethoscope dangling from around his neck, discussing something intently with a nurse. Her stomach clenched in warning.
“Something’s wrong,” she
murmured.
Jadon gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. “Maybe not. It’s possible she’s doing better and they’re discussing taking off the mask.”
“Maybe.” But she didn’t think so. For one thing, Dr. Downer’s expression seemed too serious. And so was Renee’s.
“Hi, Alyssa, Jadon,” Louis greeted them when they came closer. “You’re just in time. We’ve been discussing Gretchen’s breathing.”
Alyssa’s mouth went dry. “Is there something wrong? Isn’t the CPAP mask helping her lungs?”
“It’s helping,” Louis said hesitantly, “but I’m not sure it’s helping enough. Her chest X-ray this morning doesn’t look much better and her pulse ox is hanging in the low nineties.” He shook his head. “I’d like to see her oxygen percentage up higher than that.”
The knot in her stomach tightened. “How?”
“First we’re going to give her a few breathing treatments and another dose of IV antibiotics.”
“And if that doesn’t work?” Jadon asked.
“Then we’d need to place a breathing tube in her lungs and put her on a ventilator,” Louis admitted. “We’ll try to hold off, using the breathing tube as a last resort. And if we do put it in, we probably won’t need to keep it in very long. I promise we’ll take it out the moment Gretchen doesn’t need it anymore.”
Alyssa didn’t know what to say. She didn’t want Gretchen to have the breathing tube; she knew there were all sorts of potential complications that went along with it. Yet not having enough oxygen in her blood available to all her vital organs like her heart, brain and kidneys could also create problems.
“Can I hold her for a while?” she asked Renee.
“Sure, but keep her in the isolette if you can.”
Holding Gretchen in the palms of her hands wasn’t nearly as rewarding as holding her against her heart, but she was determined to spend as much time with Gretchen as possible.
Renee and Louis left them alone. Alyssa found she couldn’t tear her eyes away from Gretchen, her brain already imagining what she’d look like with a breathing tube in.
