THE FEELING OF weightlessness from being lifted and secured onto a gurney causes my eyes to flutter open in a panic. I glance around at the inside of the ambulance until I hear the door slam shut and one EMT climbs in next to me.
“How are you feeling, ma’am?”
I reach for my pounding head and yelp in pain when my fingers connect with the huge welt.
“What happened? I ask.
“Seems you fainted and hit your head.”
“I did?”
The recollection of watching Tyler win the race and then seeing the video of him having sex with Penny hits me like a ton of bricks.
“Tyler,” I whisper. “Why would you lie to me?”
“Is that your husband?”
I shake my head slowly and bite back the tears from pooling in my eyes.
After answering a series of questions and being poked and prodded, we arrive at the hospital and are quickly ushered in.
My mother walks alongside the gurney and assures me that I’m going to be okay.
“Where’s my phone?”
“I have it. It’s in my purse.” Her eyes constrict momentarily.
“What’s that look for?”
“He’s calling relentlessly.”
An ache pierces my heart.
“Did you talk to him?”
“No. I figure he’s just calling to tell you about the race. It can wait.”
Odessa storms into the room and proceeds to lecture me about not taking care of myself as the nurse hooks me up to a stress monitor to make sure our baby is fine.
“I told you to stop eating all those sweets! That’s probably what toppled you over, you fat cow!”
I roar in laughter despite her words of insult.
“Just give me some ice and send me home.”
The nurse asks to speak privately, whispering and eyeing the machine.
Again, the dizziness returns and my fingers tingle.
“Odes—”
“Roll her onto her left side.”
I immediately know what’s happening.
My baby’s heart rate is dropping rapidly, a sign of distress; his life is in imminent danger.
I see my mother’s eyes widen and fill with moisture from worry and fear.
“Mom?”
I need her to say the words. I need her to say my son will be alright.
“Karrie, we need to get him out now. Prep the OR!”
I hate the gravity in Odessa’s voice.
“Please save my boy,” I cry. “Please save my boy.”
“Ma, call Tyler.”
I’m not ready for this.
I’m not prepared to give birth.
Tyler isn’t here.
This isn’t how we planned on bringing our little boy into the world.
***
WITH TEARS STREAMING down my face, a beautiful baby boy is placed in my waiting arms. The tightness in my lips gives way to a small smile as I try to suppress a full-blown sob when I look at the phone in my mother’s hand as she records the momentous occasion.
“He’s here, Ty! He’s really here.”
Broken words emerge as I attempt to lift and show Tyler his child, a tiny baby with a head full of dark hair and round chubby cheeks. I slide my nose against his soft skin before I kiss his lips, his eyes, and his head repeatedly, trying to convince myself that he’s really in my arms.
“Ty, he’s beautiful!” I cry.
“Congratulations, Karrie!” Odessa says from behind the sheet covering my lower half.
My mother uses the back of her hand to caress the baby’s head before she comments about his coloring. Now that I really look at him, I notice the bluish-tinted pallor.
“Odessa? Come here.”
“I’m a little busy at the moment,” she jokes, but I don’t laugh.
“I’m serious. He’s turning blue. Something’s wrong!”
In a flash, Odessa is at my side and in the next moment, she’s ripping my boy away from me.
My world is collapsing before my very eyes.
Somewhere in the chaos, my phone rings with the tone set for Tyler. My mother answers it, handing it to me as she speaks. “Oh God! Hold on, Tyler. Here she is.”
The phone rubs against my cheek, hitting the speaker button, when it’s shoved up to my ear.
“Tyler,” my mother barks.
“Ty,” I cry into the phone. “Something’s wrong. Something’s wrong. He’s turning blue.”
“What?” he yells helplessly, his voice booming through the phone.
“I can’t lose him.”
“Baby, I’m so sorry! I can’t believe I’m not there with you. He’s going to be okay.” His anxious voice fills the room.
Shaking my head from side to side, I deny his words.
I know something is wrong.
“Please come home.”
There’s a hesitation in his response. “Baby, I’m leaving right now. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
In his haste, he neglects to end the call. I hear him speak to someone, saying something about how she’s going to be okay. Then I hear a woman’s soft voice thank him.
I call his name repeatedly but get no response.
Seconds later I hear his truck start and the line goes dead.
My mother and I share a look of bewilderment and disbelief.
“Stay focused on your son, Karrie. Just focus on him.”
I nod and clutch the phone to my chest before dropping the phone onto the bed.
Focus on him.
“Karrie,” Odessa explains when she comes back, “we’re going to run a few tests. His Apgar numbers were low.”
“He’s going to be okay, right?”
Compassion beams from her eyes when she utters, “I hope so.”
I slam my palms against my face and wail powerlessly as my mother comforts me.
***
ODESSA ORDERS THE nurse to start morphine through my IV and although it assists with the pain of my incision, it does little for my heart.
“Where is he?”
“He’s in the NICU.”
My chin quivers. “He’s all alone. He must be scared.”
My mother swipes a soft hand across my forehead.
“He’s in the best hands. They’re taking good care of him.”
“I have the best hands for him! He’s my baby!” I struggle to get up, but my body simply refuses to cooperate.
“You need to rest. You can see him in a few more hours.”
“Hours?”
Darkness pulls me under once again.
***
“KARRIE, TYLER’S ON the phone. Do you want to talk to him?”
I drag my attention from the pin hole in the hall, the same spot I’ve been staring at for the last forty-five minutes.
I nod and turn my palm upward.
“Hi,” I mumble. “Are you almost here?”
“I’m about another hour away,” he replies, his voice raspy and deep.
“How is he?”
I cry, “He’s in intensive care.”
“Oh God!” The slamming of his fist against the steering wheel and the truck accelerating display his deep fear and anxiety.
“What’s taking so long? I thought you were going to leave right after the race.”
He sighs into the phone. “I was, but then…”
“What? What happened?”
“Something happened to Penny and she needed my help.”
The image of them having sex flashes before my eyes.
“Penny?! What?” I sob, my ears burning from his words of betrayal. “Why? Why are you with her?”
“I couldn’t just leave her there on the side of the road.”
“I need you. Your son needs you!”
“Baby, I’m sorry. I’m going as fast as I can to get there.”
I imagine her naked against him. I imagine them laughing at me, ridiculing my stupidity. I imagine them playing house with her children.
A rush of air escapes.
“You’re no different than he was.” I shake my head as a sardonic chuckle filled with anger emerges. “You’re just like Alex.”
“What? Don’t say that! You know I’m nothing like that bastard!”
“I hate you!”
Infidelity and deceit puncture then shred my heart.
“Baby, listen to me! She was drunk. Her daughter was in the car.”
“I don’t care! I don’t care about her or her daughter!”
“Apparently, the kid took a pretty hard spill at the track.”
“I don’t care! You know what, Tyler…stay there! Stay with her! I can take care of my son on my own.” I hurl seething words in his direction.
“Our son! He’s our son!”
My chest heaves as I continue to wail.
My mother grabs the phone and ends the call, silencing Tyler’s pleas.
***
THIRTY MINUTES LATER, my father arrives and paces the floor after having seen the baby in the NICU.
“You need your boy and your boy needs you.”
Two minutes later, a nurse strolls in with a wheelchair.
“Are you ready to go see your son?”
“Thank you,” I mouth to my dad.
“Any answers yet?”
“No, we’re still waiting for the test results.”
Carefully and very slowly, I am situated in the narrow seat and brought to see my child.
I am given the standard attire to wear and my hands disinfected ten times over.
Encased in a small clear plastic incubator, my sweet boy sleeps. He looks so peaceful. I reach my hand through the small opening and touch his tiny fingers, causing him to stir momentarily.
“Hi, buddy. It’s me, your mom—”
I break into a fit of uncontrollable tears, but I never break the connection of our fingers. I will never let him go. I won’t do it.
When the tears subside, I stare at him and admire his perfection. His little body is bare except for the tiny diaper and the blue cap which covers his head. He looks like a poster child for a beautiful, healthy newborn, but he’s not.
My mother taps on the window and waves her phone at me.
I shake my head. I don’t want to talk to Tyler right now.
After my brief visit, I return to bed, fatigued, broken-hearted and dizzy.
There’s a brief knock on the door. A team of medical students follows in behind Dr. Baldoni, a pediatric cardiologist. Although a handsome man, his expression is serious and grave.
“Mrs. Miller,” he greets me.
“Ms., but please call me Karrie.”
With that, Dr. Baldoni delves into an incredibly detailed explanation of my son’s severe congenital heart condition. My heart shatters at the grim prognosis.
My phone rings and my father takes the call. I glance over at him and notice his hard expression.
“I’ll tell her.”
I pull my eyes away from my father and address the doctor.
“How soon do I need to decide?”
“By tomorrow morning at the very latest. We’ll need to get him on the list as soon as possible.”
I nod my understanding as emotion overwhelms me and steals my voice.
Closing my eyes, I ask God what I’ve done to deserve this. What has my son done to deserve this?
I hear my mother sniffle.
“You’re a doctor. Make him better, Ma. You’ve always made things better,” I beg as I reach for her hand.
A tear slips from her eye.
“I wish I could.”
My father steps in and looks on over my mom’s shoulder.
“You did good, Kare Bear. He’s going to be just fine.”
I want to believe my father’s words, but I can’t.
***
LESS THAN AN hour later, Tyler bursts through the door and rushes to my side, taking my face in his hands, kissing me softly. His tanned face now pale and his eyes red-rimmed and swollen.
“I’m so sorry, baby. Please forgive me for not being here.”
My lips remain still, unaffected by his apology.
“Where is he? Where’s our boy?” He looks around the vacant room before turning wide, horror-filled eyes back to me.
I ignore him completely.
“Where is he?” He enunciates slowly, fearfully.
The soft spot in my heart speaks for me.
“They’re running more tests, but—”
“But what?” he asks as his hands encase his head and his chest puffs from a deep and loud gasp.
“But he’s still in the NICU. It doesn’t look good, Ty.”
“What does that mean?”
“His heart...he needs a new heart.”
“What?” he shrieks. “Why?”
I feel nothing in my heart except his betrayal.
“If you had been here instead of with your girlfriend, you would’ve heard the doctor’s explanation.”
Tyler looks utterly confused as he steps closer.
“What are you talking about?”
“You and Penny.”
He narrows his eyes.
“What about her? You think I’m cheating on you because I drove her to the hospital? Her kid was hurt. What did you expect me to do?”
“I asked if were ever involved with her and you lied. You told me you never touched her.”
“And I didn’t!”
I reach out to strike his face, but he grabs my wrist, keeping a firm hold on it.
Our faces are inches apart.
“Don’t fucking lie to me.” My chin quivers, but I remain steadfast.
“I never touched her. I never kissed her and I certainly never fucked her.”
“I saw the video, Tyler. I saw what you two did in the trailer. Granted, it was before we were even together, but you still lied to me.”
“Video? What video?
“The one in Alex’s race trailer,” I sneer.
I can see the moment of comprehension as his face falls.
“Karrie,” he sighs sympathetically. “Baby, you were never supposed to see that. Any of it.”
I turn hard eyes on him.
“Well I did. And you know what I think? I think you’re no different than he was.”
His face morphs as if he is in physical pain.
“Do not compare me to that animal. I am nothing like him. I never was and I never will be.”
“Save it for someone who cares.”
“You care! You fucking care and you love me!” He grabs my face and smashes his mouth against mine, kissing me hard.
“Stop!” I shove him away. “You lied to me!”
“I didn’t lie to you. The girl in the video…that wasn’t Penny. It was her sister, Rachel. They’re identical twins.”
“Twins?” I cry in disbelief.
“Yes. I messed with her that one time and that was only because I lost a race and…”
“And what?”
“I was so angry.”
“Why?” A niggling feeling in the pit of my stomach tells me there’s more to the story.
“Alex had just told me he was going to leave you.”
Overwhelmed by what I’m hearing, I feel like a lost little child, helpless and vulnerable.
“I don’t know why I did it. I just did.”
I see regret spread across his face.
Tyler drags the hospital chair over and sits in it. He drops his head onto my covered legs as his hands wrap around my feet.
“I’m sorry for hurting you.”
Slowly I lift my hand, my fingers itching to run through his hair.
He continues. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here for you. I’m so sorry I missed the birth of our baby. I’m sorry I wasn’t holding your hand when you talked to the doctor. I’m so sorry for it all.”
The damn breaks open, allowing the deluge of emotion to pour out of me.
“He has a congenital heart defect.”
Glancing up at me, a torrent of tears drips from his eyes. He quickly shields his face, burying it into the palms of his hands and his body shudders with quiet, painful sobs. He murmurs, rubbing his chest.
“He can’t die. He can’t. I’ll give him my heart so that he can live.”
My own heart is ready to explode, the ache completely unbearable.
“Come here.” I tug at his T-shirt and guide him into my arms, carefully avoiding my C-section.
He comes willingly.
Tyler and I cry in each other’s arms, vowing to do whatever we need to do to save our newborn son’s life.
“This is crazy,” he says, touching our foreheads together. “I haven’t even seen him yet and I love him so much.”
“He’s beautiful and he looks just like you.”
His phone chirps with a text alert and I see Penny’s name on the screen. Anger and hurt whisper in my ear, telling me to shove him away, but love and trust tell me to hold on. I inhale slowly as he reads the message. He types back quickly and slides the phone back into his pocket.
I glance at him, expecting an answer.
“There’s no change.”
My expression falls and I sigh heavily.
“I want to see him. I need to see him.”
Before I can even say another word, Tyler is out the door.
I stare at the crucifix on the far wall, again asking the question, “Why?”
Bowing my head, I pray the unthinkable, the unimaginable, the most selfish thing I could ever pray for.
When Tyler comes back into the room, his eyes are once again watery and red.
“Did you touch him?”
Shaking his head quickly from side to side, he replies, “I didn’t go in. I’m all dirty and sweaty.”
I appreciate the thoughtfulness to our son’s safety.
“Help me get in the wheelchair. We need to see our boy.”
Back in the NICU, the nurse encourages my son’s father to wash his hands and slide on proper attire so he can hold the baby.
Tyler sits in the chair and our child is placed gently in his arms. The nurse offers assistance and suggests he support the infant’s neck.
He smiles and says, “I know how to hold a baby. I have a nephew.”
The nurse returns the smile and proceeds to check on other babies.
My eyes remain fixated on the interaction of Tyler and his son. Genuine love and affection pour out of him as he whispers sweet nothings.
“He doesn’t have a name yet.”
Tyler’s eyes roam over the sweet face of our little boy before he reaches for his phone.
“What are you doing? Hold him with two hands!” I demand.
“He’s fine. I’ve got him. I’d never let anything happen to him.”
My anxiety speeds in my veins as he continues to use his phone.
I reach for the baby. “Give him to me. Finish your text and then you can have him back.” Even as I beg for the baby, Tyler does not relinquish control of our son.
“I’m not texting. I’m looking for something.”
I roll my eyes dramatically and huff angrily.
He looks down at our son thoughtfully; the baby’s head fitting perfectly in his father’s palm.
“Ethan. His name is Ethan.”
“Ethan?”
“It means strong in Hebrew. He’s going to need to be strong and brave so he can get through this.”
Like father, like son.
“Ethan Tyler Strong,” I murmur as a smile creeps onto my face. “It’s perfect.”
***
MY PARENTS WALTZ into the room, carrying a large bag of takeout food. My father and mother both give Tyler a stern glance and a frigid greeting.
“It’s not what you think,” I whisper in my mom’s ear when she leans in to kiss me. “We’re good. I promise. He feels bad enough. Don’t make this worse, please.”
She nods and walks over, offering a kinder salutation in the form of a kiss on his cheek followed by, “Congratulations.”
Once again, Tyler’s phone chirps and I suppress the annoyance when he rises to take the call.
On his way out, my dad grabs him by the shoulder and mutters something inaudible. Tyler nods and responds, “Yes, sir. You know I would never hurt her.”
Later that night as we weigh our options about the course of action for our son, Tyler caresses my face and speaks softly. I can see he’s troubled.
“I have to tell you something about Penny and I need you to just listen before you flip out.”
I stiffen.
“Please.”
“Her little girl, Alex, is in really bad shape.”
I stare at him as a lump in my throat forms. As much as I hate Penny for what she did, I don’t hate her child and I certainly wouldn’t want to see her hurt.
“What happened?”
“Penny was drunk and high on something—”
“High on something? She can’t be on drugs—she’s pregnant.”
He shakes his head sadly before mumbling, “Not anymore.”
My hand slides across my belly where my son was less than twelve hours before.
“She wasn’t paying attention to her kid; she was more interested in getting every guy’s attention.”
I encourage him to go on.
“Alex slipped and fell from the top of the bleachers, landed flat on her back.”
“How do you know all this? Did you see it?”
The image of a toddler falling nearly twenty feet onto the hard concrete horrifies me. Why didn’t anyone call the waiting ambulance? Why wasn’t she rushed to the hospital?
He releases a deep exhale and again shakes his head.
“Rachel told me…at the hospital.”
“Rachel from the video,” I affirm quietly.
“Baby, that was a long time ago.”
My lips tighten and I pull my eyes away from his.
“Penny rushed over and picked her up. She thought Alex was okay, but apparently, she wasn’t because when they left the track to drive home, the kid started bleeding from her nose.”
“And that’s when you stopped.”
His pointed stare suggests that I’m correct.
“Why are you telling me all this?”
“Because she’s on life support.”
My eyes widen and I clutch my chest, gasping, “Oh God!”
“I can’t believe I’m even saying this, but if that little girl dies, Ethan might get a new heart.”
My face crumbles in pain. The idea that someone else’s child must die so that mine can live is unbearable. I can’t fathom the pain of losing a child. The shadow of Death slices my heart open and it feels as though my soul has been ripped away.
“I don’t know what to say,” I cry broken words. “I don’t want her to die, but I don’t want my son to die either.”
Tyler’s voice cracks. “I know. It’s so hard…but this is my son, our son.”
My eyes close, needing a moment away from this unbelievable and unbearable reality.
Haunting words whisper in my ear.
“We will always be connected. I will always be a part of your life. You need me. You’ll always need me.”
***
DR. BALDONI IS informed of our decision to put Ethan on the list to receive a new heart. Again, he reviews the plan of action, the procedure and now the wait.
Time is not on our side.
Tyler and I spend every moment in the NICU, touching our boy, loving him, talking to him and praying for him. I want to cherish every single second; I don’t know how many more I’ll have with him.
My mother taps on the window and holds up a small gift bag. Tyler rises to retrieve it and thanks her with a kiss to her cheek.
Reaching into the white bag, he pulls out a blue onesie with an “S” on the chest.
“Superman,” he breathes, smiling back at my mom who is wiping away tears.
“Strong,” I correct.
After begging the nurse, she relents and agrees to let me put the onesie on our baby boy. Tyler snaps a picture on his phone and sends it to his mom who is traveling home from a visit with Tre in Georgia.
***
“OH, TY, HE’S beautiful! He looks just like you and your brother,” Stacy smiles before wiping her eyes. “I can’t believe how much he looks like Tre, too. All you boys looked so much alike.”
“It’s all in those handsome genes,” I suggest.
Tyler grins at my words and leans down to kiss me as I sit in the wheelchair.
“I can’t wait for Tre to see him.,” Stacy adds. “He said he wants to show him that he can ride his bike now.”
“Excuse me,” Tyler says, giving me a look as he holds his phone up, getting an update on Alexandra. He kisses me quickly and walks down the hall.