43. All you gotta do is die a little to survive
Moth
I couldn’t remember how I got to the hospital. I couldn’t remember the birth of our child.
All I remember was waking up in pain, and when I looked down, my bump was gone. I was alone in the room, looking at the cold, sterile walls when the nurse walked in the room, her head down and nose in a clipboard. She looked up at me with wide-open eyes, realizing I was awake.
“Well hello there, Miss Harper!” she beamed, rushing to my side and pressing two fingers against my wrist to take my pulse. “How are we feeling this morning?”
She had fluffy, fizzy auburn hair, thick glasses, and kind eyes. I could look into her eyes for hours. Her eyes held the answers that I so desperately wanted, even if tears choked my voice.
“Where’s Tommy?” I asked, blinking as my vision blurred, and she swam through my tears. “I-is our baby—”
I shook my head, forcing myself to look away, my jaw closing with a snap.
I couldn’t say it. I couldn’t say the words.
“Tommy?” she asked, looking down at the clipboard with wide, terrified eyes. Why? Why was she terrified? What did she have to tell me? “Is that your husband, sweetheart?”
“Y-yes,” I said, nodding. Placing my shaking palms on the bed on either side of my hips, I tried to readjust, to lift myself into a more comfortable position, but all I got was a stab of pain twisting into my abdomen so violently that I couldn’t bite back the scream that crawled up my throat. Instantly, my forehead slicked with sweat, and a flash of heat pulsed through me.
“Woah, sweetheart. Hold on.”
She pulled back the blanket, and when I looked down, she was rolling the hospital gown up from the bottom. Across my stomach, and the swollen bump that should have been there, I was wrapped in bloodstained bandages.
“I’ll have to call the doctor,” she sighed. “You had an emergency Cesarean, honey. You can’t use your abdominal muscles. If you do, you could rip—”
“Where’s my baby?” I asked her, blinking away the tears. “Where’s Tommy? I need to see him.”
“It’s okay,” she said, flashing me a smile as realization bloomed behind her eyes. “The baby is just fine. A little small, but she’s a fighter. She’s down in the NICU right now, didn’t even need help breathin’. And that man of yours? He’s right there alongside her. Hasn’t left her side for a minute, except to come in and check on you.”
I felt a mixture of relief and anxiety wash over me. Our baby was alive, and her father was right by her side. It was a small comfort knowing that she had someone, and she wasn’t alone, even if I was. He was there for her, providing the support and love that I couldn’t offer at that moment.
“S-she?” I whispered, my voice quivering. “I had a g-girl?”
“Yes,” she said, nodding. Her smile widened, and her eyes sparkled. “And she’s gorgeous.”
I tried to push aside the pain and focus on the happiness that swelled inside me.
“Can I see her?” I pleaded. Every fiber of my being yearned to hold my baby, to see her tiny face for myself.
The nurse nodded.
“Of course, sweetheart,” she whispered. “As soon as the doctor gives the go-ahead, we’ll take you down to the NICU to see your little fighter.”
As I lay there, waiting for the doctor’s approval, I couldn’t help but feel a surge of fear and unease beneath the happiness.
Where was Barrett? What had happened in that house? The last thing I remembered was pulling myself through the front door and losing consciousness on the porch.
Finally, the doctor arrived and gave me the green light to visit the NICU. With a mix of excitement and trepidation, I mustered the strength to sit up with considerable help from my nurse, whom I came to learn was named Rebecca. She helped me into a wheelchair, and together we made our way down the sterile hospital corridors, past happy families meeting their babies for the first time, and fathers outside surgery suites, their hands wringing anxiously as they waited for news.
Then there was me—battered, alone, and confused .
As we reached the NICU, my heart raced. Rebecca wheeled me through the doors, scanning her badge with a beep. The doors popped open and she wheeled me through them.
Inside, there was a long, pink and blue hallway. On each side were twin sets of clear glass doors, each of them decorated with pink or blue cutout construction paper handprints, and the baby’s name spelled out in bubble letters written directly on the glass.
Quietly, Rebecca and I made our way down the hall and turned the corner, continuing down another brightly colored hallway towards several handwashing stations.
I couldn’t wait to see my baby, to hold her and let her know that I was there and that no one would ever take me away again.
We finally got to her door, and I looked up at the handprints and the name.
Babygirl Eades
I sighed a bit and looked up at Rebecca.
“We didn’t have a name for her, so…” she shrugged and gave me a warm smile.
“I didn’t have one either,” I muttered, and I had never felt lower in my life.
She was already here, and I didn’t even know what to call her.
“Hey,” she said, and I felt the warmth of her hand on my shoulder. “This is completely normal. You should have had more time, and no one is faulting you for that.”
I nodded, my heart pounding as she pressed the button on the wall that would slide the doors open and allow us to wheel inside. The minute they popped open, I smelled sterile air and hand sanitizer—and beneath it, the familiar scent of Tommy. When the curtains parted, I looked into the dimly lit room and saw him, and instantly, my eyes filled with tears.
His brown leather jacket had been discarded, and he wore a simple white t-shirt and jeans. His brown eyes were tired and half-lidded, but when he looked up and saw me, they popped to life with a vitality that I only saw when I looked into them.
“Hey!” he said, turning in the chair he sat in to face me. “You’re awake!”
Now, I could see his face—and the bruises that circled his eye. Now I could see his cut lip and the bandage across the bridge of his nose.
Now I could see just how hard he had fought for me.
The nurse wheeled me closer to the small incubator where our baby lay, surrounded by monitors and wires.
And there she was, my precious baby, so small and fragile. I couldn’t help but burst into tears as I reached out to touch her tiny hand.
“Can I hold her?” I asked, looking from Rebecca to Tommy. They exchanged a glance.
“Of course you can,” Rebecca beamed, and I felt her kick the brakes on my wheelchair and step away. “Let me go grab the nurse. She’s hooked up to a lot of wires and things, so you’ll need some assistance for the first little while.”
I watched as Rebecca hurriedly left the room, leaving me alone with my new little family. My heart swelled with a mixture of joy and apprehension. I longed to hold our little miracle, but the sight of all the wires and monitors surrounding her made me anxious .
Tommy, with his bruised face and bandages, gently leaned closer to me. He looked at me with love and concern in his eyes. Those eyes that had once held the secrets to all of my fear now held every piece of what made me feel whole again.
“She’s so beautiful,” he whispered. “And she’s a fighter, too. Just like her mom.”
Tears welled up in my eyes again as I ran my thumb across the back of our baby’s delicate hand. She was so small, so fragile, yet filled with a strength that amazed me. I couldn’t help but marvel at the softness of her skin, yet at the same time, a stab of anxiety flowed through me.
I wasn’t ready. I wasn’t ready for her to come home. I hadn’t folded the clothes and hadn’t finished the nursery. I didn’t finish decorating it, and I—
“Moth,” Tommy’s low growl caught my ears, and I turned to look at him. “You okay?”
I shrugged and then nodded. I didn’t know what to say or how to answer. I wasn’t okay, but I needed to be.
I had to be strong.
“You’re not,” he said, turning to me and placing my one free hand in both of his. “What’s goin’ on?”
I shook my head, trying to deny it, but even as I did, I burst into uncontrollable tears.
“I-it’s my f-fault,” was all I managed to choke out.
“What?” he asked, turning his body to face me. “What’s your fault?”
There was a calmness in his voice that I needed, even if it didn’t stop my tears .
“Sh-she’s in there because of me,” I whimpered. “I o-opened the door, and I—”
“And you had no way of knowing what would happen. You didn’t know he would come in and—”
He stopped when a soft knock on the door behind us grabbed our attention. We turned to see Sheriff Banner standing in the doorway, Rebecca standing behind him with a soft smile. He held his service cap between his hands, his fingers rolling the rim over and over again as he flashed a brief smile.
“Is this… a bad time?” he asked, and Tommy shook his head.
“No sir, not at all. Just a little new mom jitters, is all,” Tommy said, looking over at me with a smile that I accepted and returned.
With a simple nod, he stepped through the door, and Rebecca moved past him and made her way to the incubator. I watched with awe as she pulled down the side and reached inside to begin unhooking several wires.
“She’s about three pounds,” Rebecca told me with a maternal smile. “So you’ll have to be very gentle, but these preemies? They grow fast, and they are mighty, so watch out. You’re about to have a very feisty girl on your hands, Tommy.”
Behind me, he chuckled.
“No worries there,” he said. “I already have one in the house. Another one will be easy.”
Rebecca was kind and gentle as she explained the intricacies of the wires and monitors that were keeping our baby safe. With her help, I carefully held our precious bundle in my arms, making sure to support her fragile body. It was like holding a porcelain doll, and I was terrified I would break her .
As I cradled our baby, a surge of overwhelming love enveloped me. It was like I had known her all my life, and the moment she touched my skin, I recognized her like a long-lost love. I couldn’t believe that this tiny being was ours and that she was coming home with us. I whispered sweet words to her, promising to protect her the same way her father had protected me—with all the ferocity of a wild animal.
“Olivia,” I said, turning to Tommy. “I want to name her Olivia.”
Sheriff Banner sighed happily as he stepped up beside me.
“After your mom,” he said, and I nodded. “She would be so proud.”
“I know,” I said, fighting the roiling ball of tears that stuck in my throat. “I still feel her in that house.”
We stayed that way for a long while, enjoying the love in the room as Rebecca bustled back and forth, gathering supplies and typing on the computer. It wasn’t until she left the room and returned with a window marker and began to write that tears leaked from my eyes.
When she’d finished, ‘Olivia’ written in pink bubble letters across the glass door, I released a wavering sigh of relief. That was it then. It was official.
“She’s beautiful,” Sheriff Banner said, looking down at us.
“Do you wanna hold her?” Tommy asked. “After all, you saved her life.”
“No, no thank you, I really can’t stay long, and she’s so tiny,” he shook his head. “There will be time for that when she’s got a bit of weight on her. I just came to give you some news.”
There was a small pause before he continued .
“Barrett Foster died of his injuries,” he said, looking down at the baby, and then up toward her father. “But seeing as how it was self-defense, Tommy, I got you off clean and dry. It’s over now. You two can enjoy that baby in peace.”
I should have felt relief. I should have felt a weight lifting off of me knowing that he could never hurt me again, but I didn’t.
All I felt was pain, regret, and mourning.
Even if I knew, somewhere deep inside me, that he was never my best friend, it still felt like he had been.