Chapter 15
Karissa
Emma’s curled against my chest now—soft, warm and so tiny. I don’t want to put her down.
The door opens again and Cody steps back in. He lingers near the door for a second before closing it gently behind him. His eyes move to Emma, then to me.
He shifts, like he’s not sure what to do with his hands. “I didn’t know if you wanted me to leave for that or not,” he mutters, almost like he regrets doing it now.
I can’t help but laugh. “I figured you would. But…you didn’t need to.”
He nods once, slowly, then clears his throat. “Sorry.” He comes into the room and stops at the bedside. “How’d it go?”
I can tell he’s not trying to be nosey, he just cares.
“Good,” I say, adjusting the blanket over us. “Kinda hurt.”
“Oh. Sorry.”
A soft knock interrupts us—again—and another nurse steps in holding a clipboard, her tone gentle and practiced. “Alright, Mama. Ready to try standing?”
I nod, because what else am I supposed to do? Say no? Refuse to move forever? Just shifting myself around in this bed hurts, so to say I’m not terrified of putting my feet back on the ground would be a lie.
Cody gently takes Emma from me. Another nurse comes in and lowers the bed. Everyone gracefully moves around the room like this is just another day. Like I’m not about to stand on a body that feels like it’s been torn open and sewn back together.
Cody’s just watching, staying out of the way. He stands beside the bassinet like Emma’s guard. Like this is something he’s definitely not leaving the room for. And I don’t want him to.
“Alright,” the nurse says, glancing toward him with a small smile. “You get her other side?”
Cody’s expression shifts, just slightly, like he wasn’t expecting to be included. But he doesn’t hesitate.
“Course,” he says, stepping forward.
Getting to the edge of the bed so my feet hang off took longer than it should. My stomach feels like it’s ripping with every move.
Cody moves when she does, the two of them sliding their hands under my arms. I stare down at my feet touching the cold tile floor that feels a mile away.
This nurse, no offense to her, is tiny, sweet, but no more than a hundred and twenty pounds. I was nearly double that pregnant, so I’m not fully convinced she could catch me.
Cody, though? He could bench press me with one arm.
“Slow and steady. We’ll just go to the chair,” the nurse says.
I nod again, looking to said chair. It seems way too far away.
She counts softly. “One…two…three.”
I try to stand on my feet. They pull me slowly but it’s like my stomach catches fire. It takes my breath away to the point that I let out a gasp.
“Oh my God,” I cry. “I can’t.”
“Yes you can,” the nurse says gently but firmly. I feel both of their grips tighten.
The pain rips through me like someone’s dragging glass across my stomach. My vision goes spotty just thinking about that image.
“Let her sit,” Cody snaps, like a command rather than a suggestion, and they set me back on the edge of the bed carefully. But the pain zings through me again with that too. At this rate, maybe standing felt better.
I’m crying harder than I want to be. Everything hurts. I don’t know what I was expecting…maybe that it would just be sore. No, it quite literally feels like my stomach is ripping back open again.
“Alright,” the nurse says gently, still beside me. “That’s okay. That was a start.”
“I can’t even stand,” I mutter, frustrated.
“You did stand,” Cody cuts in.
“The first time’s always the worst.” The nurse rubs my shoulder.
I blink fast, trying to stop the tears. “Feels like my stomach’s on fire.”
She nods. “That’s normal after a C-section. We’ll try again in a bit.”
“You wanna sit back in the bed?” Cody offers, I shake my head. I wanna sit just how I am. Something about my feet being able to graze the floor makes it a little more believable that it is my body and they didn’t swap it out with someone else’s while I was unconscious.
The nurses leave, telling me to call if I need anything and that they’ll be back to try again soon.
The second the door clicks shut, Cody’s already talking. “Don’t be so hard on yourself.” His voice is low and firm.
“I didn’t expect this.”
“Well, that’s kinda how your life has been going, isn’t it?” He lets out a light laugh.
I sigh out a laugh too, but even that hurts, and a fresh wave of tears slips out before I can stop it. I bite them back, swallowing the urge to sob, too scared it’ll make everything hurt worse.
I hang my head, eyes shut tight, just trying to breathe through it.
Then I feel it…a rough finger brushing beneath my eye, wiping the tears away.
I open my eyes. Cody’s kneeling in front of me. His expression is soft, the same expression I saw a time or two before. Concern, care, something deeper than his typical glance.
“Can you just help me?” I ask and he blanks.
“Up?”
“Yeah.”
“I think two people is a good idea.”
“But that nurse is as big as my thigh.”
He laughs. “She’s probably stronger than you think. She does this on a daily basis.”
“Fine,” I mutter, and he stands to call the nurse.
They come in within fifteen seconds. Cody tells them I wanna try again and everyone resumes their prior positions.
The nurse counts off again and up I go, slow and careful. It feels like barbed wire ripping into my stomach again. It’s a little better than last, because I knew what to expect, but still.
“Take your time,” Cody tells me. I step out and shift my weight forward.
“I can’t do this,” I whisper, shaking.
The nurse steadies me. “You’re doing good. One more step.”
I stare at the ground. The chair’s only about three feet away, but in this current moment, it feels like miles.
Cody leans his head against mine gently, his nose just touching the top of my ear.
“I’ve got you,” he whispers. “I’m right here.”
His words give me more confidence, and somehow, crying, shaking, and with a painful pins-and-needles sensation, I take the next step.
“Great job, Karissa,” the nurse tells me.
By some miracle, I make it to the chair. Walking itself wasn’t terrible. It’s not like my feet hurt.
When they start to ease me down, I gasp again. The other nurse talks me through it like we’re landing a plane. But the second I’m off my feet, when I see the bed being literally almost an arm’s reach away when I feel like I just moved miles, I just…break.
It’s the kind of crying that doesn’t come out pretty. It’s shaky and raw, and I can’t stop it. Nobody says anything, I just feel hands rubbing my back and shoulders. Then I hear Emma crying. Great.
The other nurse picks her up and Emma quiets.
The nurse helping me crouches beside me. “You’re doing so good.” Her hand is on my arm; it’s comforting. “That was a huge first step. Literally.”
I shake my head, still in denial. This can’t be real life right now. “It didn’t feel good. It felt like I was getting ripped open all over again.”
“I know,” she says gently. “But your body will heal.”
I wipe my face. I know I probably look like a wreck, but I don’t even care.
Cody’s still standing nearby, quiet as ever. He looks like he wants to help but doesn’t know how. That might be the worst part, because I don’t even know how to help myself, let alone tell him how he can help me.
Emma starts to fuss again, soft at first, then stronger.
I turn my head toward her, heart thumping, wondering what she needs, but I don’t move. Not because I don’t want to…I can’t. The fear of the pain soaring through me again is enough to have me frozen.
“I can’t even get up to get her,” I whisper, my voice cracking. “How do people do this?”
The nurse squeezes my arm. “One thing at a time. You just had major surgery. You have to let yourself heal and let people help.”
Cody crouches beside the chair. He doesn’t say anything, just lets me fall apart for a few seconds.
The nurse starts to say something, something comforting probably, but Cody turns to her with that tone that doesn’t warrant her to continue.
“Can you give us a minute?”
It’s not rude, it’s just…final. Like he’s not asking.
She nods. “Of course. Just press the call button if you need anything.”
Both nurses slip out. Emma is quiet now, back in her bassinet, and the second the door clicks shut, I fall apart more, my stomach stinging with every tear. Cody squats down in front of me.
“Alright. Breathe. You’re being way too hard on yourself.”
I try to do what he says but it’s hard to catch my breath through the tears.
I bite my lip, still shaking. “I can’t be alone when I go home.” My voice cracks again. “There’s no way I can do this by myself.”
He rests one hand on my leg, eyes steady on mine. “I’ve come this far with you, sweetheart, you think I’m leaving now?”
I blink at him, not quite sure I heard him right.
He continues, “I’ll stay with you at the lodge until you’re back on your feet. I’m not leaving you alone.” He shakes his head.
I stare at him, tears still falling. “What if I take weeks to recover? What if I can’t—”
“I don’t care,” he says flatly.
And I believe him, because when Cody says something like that, he means it.