36. Chapter 36
Chapter 36
Emilio
O ver the next eleven days, my life is pure hell. There are times when I feel like walking out of the hospital, holding a gun to my head, and pulling the trigger. I've never been one to think of suicide as an option but the thought of living without Serena and Alessandro makes me sick to my stomach.
Serena has been on life support and unable to breathe on her own. Today they intend to try to take her off the respirator. Her kidney function has improved, and she's regained some of her strength from the loss of blood. They've kept her sedated, so she hasn't opened her eyes yet.
Alessandro has had three MRIs over the last eleven days, and the doctors have told me he has suffered significant brain damage. His future is unpredictable. One positive that I cling to is the knowledge that babies’ brains grow and develop at such a rapid rate that they are able to reroute themselves and recover from catastrophic damage. Adult brains are unable to do that. That's in his favor. We won't know until he's older how badly the damage will affect him. Each milestone will be a sign of where he's at developmentally.
For me, I'm just grateful they are alive. I would have sold my soul to have them both wake up.
While they remove the breathing tube from Serena, they make me leave the room. I stand outside, waiting to see her, hoping her eyes are open so I know that she's okay. Pacing back and forth in the hallway in front of her room, minutes feel like hours.
"Mr. Esposito, you can come in now," the nurse informs me.
As I walk into the room, my wife looks so tiny lying in the bed, so fragile and pale. Her ordeal has taken a physical toll on her body. There are IVs hooked up to both arms and things that are pumping up with air on both legs.
"What are they on her legs?"
The nurse smiles warmly, answering, "They keep her from forming more blood clots since she's been confined to a bed for so long."
I give her a nod because I don't know what else to say. The monitor over Serena's bed is beeping and there are numbers and graphs on it that make no sense to me.
Soft words come from the bed. "Emilio." Her eyes are still closed.
"Baby, baby, wake up. Show me those eyes." I walk over and wrap her in my arms, carefully avoiding her IVs.
Serena's eyes open slowly. "Our baby, Emilio, is he okay?" She starts to panic.
"He's in the NICU, baby. He's growing and as soon as you are able, I will take you down to visit him."
At this point she's still too weak to get out of her hospital bed and Alessandro is too weak to leave the NICU. That means for now, they can't see one another, and that breaks my wife's heart.
It takes her two more days before Serena can stand up with assistance.
Physical therapists come in to help Serena walk and gain her strength back. At first, she's only able to use a wheelchair, but she soon graduates to a walker.
My wife fights every day, determined to get strong enough to go see our son. Alessandro is three weeks old before Serena gets to go to the nursery to see him.
She still can't walk the distance, so I take her down in a wheelchair. As I roll her into the room, tears stream down her cheeks. The nurse standing at Alessandro's bassinet turns and gives Serena a warm smile. "Mrs. Esposito, we are so happy to see you are well enough to come down. Alessandro is strong enough we can let you hold him now. He's breathing on his own, and when you are ready, you can try to feed him."
The nurse picks up my son and places him in Serena's arms. The joy I feel seeing my baby boy in my wife’s arms is indescribable. Our son is exactly where he's supposed to be. Our family is whole again.
The nurses set up a privacy shield around Alessandro's bassinet, allowing Serena and I to do what they call Kangaroo care. They place the baby, wearing only his diaper, against our bare skin.
We spend every day in the NICU for as long as they allow us to be there. My wife and son continue to gain strength until they are well enough for us to go home. My life has new meaning and there's nothing better than seeing Serena hold Alessandro with a smile on her face.
After twelve exhausting weeks spent in the hospital, Serena and my son are finally coming home. Valerie offers to stay with us, and the remaining family members surround us with so much love and support, I feel my heart could burst. Finally, I have the family that I've always dreamed of.