My eyes flutter open, and I hear a baby’s cry surround the room. I blink a couple of times, the light shining above me making it hard to open them.
“Mrs. Owen, I’m Dr. Walter, you’ve been out for a while now.”
My eyes focus on his gloved hands he’s holding up, and I notice a little blood on them. I try to talk but begin to cough instead; my throat feels so dry.
“What? What’s going on? Where am I?” I manage to croak out eventually. I feel weak as I look around at my surroundings. I’m in hospital? What happened to me? My baby? Oh my God, my baby. I look down at my hand, feeling a pinch when I move it, and see there’s an IV inserted. A blue curtain is in front of me, starting at my waist, and I’m unable to see anything of my body beyond it.
Dr. Walter smiles. “Mrs. Owen, you have had a baby boy.”
Wait? Did he just say baby? My eyes widen.
A blonde nurse walks over to my side, pushing a clear glass-like box on a trolley, which has something inside of it. Wait a minute! Is that a baby? Oh my God, it’s my baby. Tears burn at my eyes, and I begin to sob. My baby. My baby is safe.
I struggle to sit up, and Dr. Walter quickly removes his gloves, throws them in the bin, and pushes me back down gently, holding me until I remain still. “Now Jasmine, you’ve just had a C-Section and your blood pressure is low, you mustn’t try to get up.”
“But… but… I want to see my baby. Please can I hold him?”
The doctor’s expression is sympathetic. “I’m sorry, Jasmine, being that he’s ten weeks premature, it’s critical for him to get strong. He needs a little help with that, but the good news is he’s a strong little boy, and I have good faith in him.”
Lying still, I turn my head and see him. My baby. He’s so tiny. I lift my hand and run my finger against the clear box. “Hi, my little angel. Mommy loves you.” I sniffle, and then notice the tubes that are inserted into his cute little nose, and the wires taped to his tiny chest. He has a woollen hat over his head, so I can’t see if he has any hair, or what colour it is.
“Jasmine, we’re just going to take him to get checked out, then we’ll get you settled and into your room so your husband can visit you. I’m sure he’s dying to find out how you are.”
“Wait! So Quill is okay?”
The doctor smiles. “That he is. He’s worried, though, so I don’t want to take too much of his time. I’ll send a nurse out to inform him you’re well, and that he’s got a new baby boy.”
“So Quill doesn’t know that I’ve had the baby yet?” I ask.
The doctor smiles again. “No, we haven’t had a chance, we had to work quickly. You lost a lot of blood, Jasmine. We had to give you a blood transfusion, so you will be feeling weak for some time. You will also feel numb below your waist for a while because of the epidural we’ve given you. You may experience some pain once the epidural wears off, but we have painkillers ready for you, and an anti-inflammatory for the swelling. Now, John here”—he looks over at an orderly who appears nearby—“will take you to your room. Then you can start receiving some visitors.”
I clear my throat before speaking. “Thank you, doctor. Thank you for saving my baby’s life,” I say hoarsely, new tears appearing. I’m feeling so overwhelmed.
Dr. Walter places his hand on my shoulder. “It was my pleasure, and congratulations. Let’s get you and your baby well so you can enjoy each other, hey?”
I nod. “Thank you.”
“Nurse Jane will just take him to the nursery, where he will be well looked after, and we’ll go get your husband for you.”
I nod and smile before he leaves, and touch the vessel that holds my baby one more time before they push him out of the room.
The orderly smiles, and lifts up the side of my bed. “Here we go.”
I’m taken to a nice room, and I can hear babies crying so I know I’m not too far from my own. It’s not long before Quill comes running through the door, and freezes just inside the room. Our eyes lock and I can’t help but notice how terrible he looks. His skin is pale, eyes bloodshot, and his hair is sticking up in all directions. Tears that I was holding in begin to fall, and I whisper, “It’s okay, Quill. I’m okay. Our baby’s okay.” Quill rushes to my bedside and lays his head on my chest, crying so hard his shoulders are shaking. I have never seen him look so broken. “Shush, shush,” I say trying to soothe him, running my hand through his hair. “I’m fine, I promise. Look at me, Quill.”
His body is still shaking, and when he finally stops he looks up at me, drying his eyes with the back of his hand. “I’m so sorry, baby, so sorry. I didn’t protect you. I let you down.”
“No, don’t say that!” I snap. “It wasn’t your fault.”
“How can you say that?” Quill sounds pissed. He pushes himself off me and begins to pace the room, running his hand down the back of his neck.
“Quill, look at me please,” I beg.
He stops but doesn’t look up at me. Instead he links his hands behind his head, and yells, “Fuck!”
I jolt in the bed at his outburst, and realize this is the time I need to be tough with him, stand my ground. “Quill, you listen to me, and listen good. We just nearly lost our baby, do you hear me? I will not let you make this a bad thing. Now if you don’t get your ass over here and kiss me, I’m going to kick your ass.”
That gets his attention, and he faces me, his expression turning from anger to a slight smile. “You’re going to kick my ass?” he jokes, pointing a finger at his chest.
I smile, glad his mood has changed. “That’s right, Mr. Owen, I will kick your ass. Now don’t make me ask you twice to kiss me.”
“Okay, baby,” he replies, shaking his head in defeat, a smirk on his tired face. “You win.” He slowly inches toward me, then grasps my face in his hands. The smirk is gone now, replaced by a look of sheer pain. “I love you so, so much,” he whispers hoarsely. “I thought I lost you, and our baby.”
I cover his shaking hands with mine. “Never, Quill, you’ll never lose me. And as for our baby, he’s doing fine.”
Smiling, he says, “What did I ever do to deserve you?”
I smile back at my handsome husband, my rock. “Just by being you,” is my answer, and with that he finally kisses me, so gently and softly it’s as if he’s remembering every part of me.
I pull back after a bit. “Have you seen him?”
He shakes his head. “No, baby, I wanted to see you first.”
“He’s perfect, Quill, so perfect. If it’s okay with you, I’d like to call him Jack—after my father.”
He runs his thumb over my bottom lip. “I think that’s perfect.”