Chapter 23
Chapter Twenty-Three
Ana
Grief stole her soul, then joy gave it right back.
Her baby was alive. Whole. Would be fine.
She was alive, would heal, could raise her perfect son.
But she’d lost the ability to give this man what he wanted.
More children.
“Oh, Ana,” her mother said, holding her hand, rubbing her thumb joint over and over like it was a worry stone. “I’m so sorry.”
“How’s Paolo?”
“Dennis is with him. You told the hospital staff he was the father?”
“It seemed easier. And it meant Paolo wouldn’t be–wouldn’t be alone,” she said, sobs taking over her words. Crying made her belly hurt, but this pain was worse than the absence of her baby or the surgical cut.
This was about losing so much more.
Like her uterus.
“You lost so much blood,” her mother said softly. “The doctor said it was touch and go after they removed Paolo. The uterine rupture we were worried about happened, and was made worse by your condition.”
“It hurt so much, Mom.”
“I’ll bet.” She squeezed her hand. “We’re just so thankful you’re alive, Paolo is alive, and so far, so good. You’re both healthy.”
“I know I should be grateful. I am grateful,” she whispered. “But…” Gesturing toward the pitcher on her tray, she asked for water.
Marian gave it to her. A few small sips from a straw felt good.
“I want to see Paolo.”
“Dennis is with him. He’s in the NICU. He’s so tiny!” Her mom held up her phone. Dennis was texting pictures in a group chat with Marian, Ana, Brie, and Lucinda.
Ana’s tears flowed freely. Her nipples tingled, a strange ache that made her cry harder.
“I want my baby.” She shifted in bed, her legs like rubber bands.
“You can’t walk yet, sweetie. The surgery and the anesthesia and the IV–”
“I want to hold him! Why can’t I go in a wheelchair?”
Marian surprised her by crying, too, holding Ana’s hand and pressing it to her face.
“I wish I could fix this for you. I do. But you’re okay, and so is the baby. All I can do is tell you I love you, Ana. I was so scared we might lose you.”
“I love you too, Mama.” Using her old name for her mother tipped Marian into sobs, the two of them crying, Marian from relief.
Ana from grief.
After lots of tissues and a bit of time, Marian looked at her phone.
“Rick says he’s talking to Dennis–he’s back in the waiting room. He wants to see you.”
“I want to see him, but Mom, how do I tell him?”
“He’ll understand.”
“I–”
“That man loves you, Ana. I don’t know how you two found each other, but I’ve never met a man so driven. And Rick likes him! Do you know how rare that is? Rick hates everyone!”
Even Ana had to laugh at that, though it hurt her incision.
“Can I tell Rick to send Dennis up? He says I can go to the NICU and see Paolo now.”
“Go. I’m fine.”
“You’re not fine.”
“I’m–go. It’s okay.” Nothing was really okay, but this would have to do.
Marian leaned down and gave Ana the sweetest of kisses on her forehead. As she left the room, Dennis entered. Marian looked back and blew her another kiss.
“Hey, there,” he said as he walked in, holding his phone toward her, showing a photo. “You made a beautiful baby. Here.”
A tiny, red-faced cherub was in an incubator, a few electrodes on his body and a little oxygen tube near his nose.
“Is he–is he okay?”
“Three pounds, thirteen ounces. Not bad for just over thirty weeks. They say he needs to be in the NICU for a bit, maybe another two or three weeks. But so far, his lungs are good. They let me touch him, but not hold him.”
Her nipples felt like someone attached electric wires to them, her eyes filling with tears.
“I want to hold him!”
“Soon, Ana,” Dennis said, reaching for her as she cried.
“Just a few more hours and we can find a way for you to see him. The nurse said something about expressing breastmilk, and something about… kangaroo care, I think? But the doctors are amazed he’s as healthy as he is.
You did a wonderful job, Ana. I’m so proud of you. ”
He leaned in to kiss her, but the peck on her cheek felt alien.
“Thanks.” She didn’t feel strong or worthy of praise.
She felt like a failure.
“My mom and brother are here, getting to know your mom and Rick. Brie is texting me, too. She’s stuck behind some kind of accident near the Saco exit.
But all the people who love you are pulling for you and Paolo.
” His eyes were so tender, so kind. “And thank you for saying I’m his father. It made such a difference to me.”
“I hope you don’t mind. I tried my best to make it easy for everyone. I texted my mother and told the EMTs your name.”
“You’ve been through so much. But the worst is over. Now we do everything possible to help you recover and give Paolo the best possible chance.”
Ana squeezed her eyes shut, awash in emotion.
“Dennis. There’s something I have to tell you. Did Mom mention to you why my surgery took so long?”
“She said you wanted to explain something to me. What’s going on?”
She let out a long sigh. “I–the bleeding. The reason it happened was uterine rupture.”
“I gathered that.”
“They couldn’t stop it. The bleeding, I mean. And they had to–had to do a complete removal of my–of my uterus.”
He stopped short, the look on his face so painful that Ana turned away, staring out the window and sobbing. Her body rose and fell, the stitches pulling.
“I can’t have your baby,” she said through sobs, shaking so hard, her tears making it look like she was living through an earthquake.
Which was emotionally true.
“Ana. Ana.”
She stayed turned away from him.
“You’re breaking my heart. I can’t handle seeing you in this kind of pain.”
He moved around the bed. She closed her eyes, tears pooling at the bridge of her nose and dropping at a steady rate onto the sheet.
“Look at me.” When she did, she saw his exhaustion. His worry. The last few hours had taken its toll on him, too.
And now this. The end of an imagined future.
He pointed to the door. “Paolo.”
“What about him?”
“You already had my baby, as far as I’m concerned. I want to be that baby’s father, if you’ll let me.”
“It’s not the same.”
“Yes. It is. It is if we say it is. I love you. I know the world thinks it’s too fast, but I don’t. On my timeline, it’s taken far, far too long. I love you, Ana. I love Paolo, even though we’ve barely met, and only through a window and with one finger touch.”
She laughed through her tears, the sniffle at the end one of disbelief.
And hope.
He squeezed her hand, those beautiful eyes focused on her like she was nothing but love.
“If you’ll have me, I’m all in. One hundred percent.”
“I don’t think you know how to live any other way, Dennis.”
“I don’t know how to love any other way.”
“It’s easy to say all of this now, at the height of emotions and trauma. I know how this works. You feel this way in the moment, but–”
“Don’t tell me how I feel. I know what I want. I want you. I want Paolo. I want us to be a family. Together.”
“You said–the last time we were together, at my place, you said you wanted more children.”
“So did you.”
“I said if I could have them.”
“Right.”
“But Dennis, I can’t have more. I’m so lucky I was even able to have Paolo.”
“And I’m lucky to have you. So lucky. Both of you.”
“Dennis…”
“I need you to hear me, Ana. Really hear me. Not with your ears, with your heart. You may be all about the gray areas, the undefined, but I’m not.
This is black and white for me. I love you.
I love Paolo. I want to be his father. Your hysterectomy only concerns me because it causes you so much pain.
Everything else we can figure out, because I love you so much that the sheer force of my love will carry us. ”
She turned back to him, his eyes shining with… tears?
“Telling the EMTs you were the father came so naturally.”
“Good!”
“And it’s what I want,” she confessed. “I wish I could go back in time and make you his biological father. But I can’t.”
“This is close enough, Ana. Just say yes.”
“Yes!”
His kiss was sweet, not too hard, not too polite. Exhaustion and overwhelm swirled all around her, but so did love.
So much love.
“I love you, Ana. I knew it the second I saw you on the common in your gorgeous sundress dress. I love Paolo, and I knew it the second I saw him in the NICU.”
“I love you, too.”
Another kiss.
Then a knock on the door made them turn.
It was Brie, holding an enormous bouquet of flowers with three giant mylar balloons attached, openly crying.
She put the bouquet on a table, then plunked down a big bag of red foil chocolate hearts, which made Ana start laughing, Dennis joining in.
“Is there room for the honorary aunt in this lovefest?” she asked as she made her way to Ana’s bed, arms outstretched, smelling like lavender and cheese.
There was.
Because there was always room for more love.