Through my haze, I heard voices. My body was lethargic and I would have panicked at my inability to make my limbs work, but that voice… I couldn’t make out what was said, but the soothing voice was familiar and reassuring. It didn’t make me scared to be surrounded by blackness in a perpetual state of stillness.

Sometimes, I heard other voices as well, familiar ones too, but this voice was different. Special. It made my heart ache. At least my heart still worked and each time I heard the voice, as if my heart was able to make the connection, it would beat harder.

I concentrated on the voice, trying to claw my way out of this nothingness. The voice continued, droning on. I focused on the sound and the words started to penetrate my semi-conscious state.

“…will be happy to know you’re a week old today.” I smiled, now able to recognize Lucas’ voice. I felt relieved he was here with me. I wasn’t alone as I feared.

“You know, I thought you looked more like me when you were born,” he continued. “But now, I’m not so sure. You’re starting to look more like your mommy. Hear that, Mommy? You’ve got a baby here who looks just like you but you won’t see unless you wake up.”

So that was what was different about my body. They’d taken the baby. My last memory was talking to Lucas and then everything else was blank. Did he say the baby was a week old? Oh, my, how was he managing with the baby on his own?

“As soon as your mommy wakes up, little man, we’re going to ask her to marry us.”

I gasped in surprise although I intended to be quiet and eavesdrop on the conversation between father and son.

“Debra?”

It took considerably more effort than I would have thought to open my eyes. Light exploded through my pupils, causing me to groan and close them again. This time, I was careful to give my pupils time to adjust to the light by opening my eyes slowly.

Lucas stood over the bed, our son balanced against his shoulder, one hand supporting the child’s back. He looked such a natural, I smiled weakly at him.

“Oh, God, Debra, you’re awake!” he exclaimed and the worry clouding his eyes was chased away by relief and happiness.

“Hey, Dad-dy,” I uttered on a croak.

“Don’t talk,” he advised. “I’ll buzz the doctor that you’re awake. We were worried sick about you. It’s been a whole week!”

He pressed the buzzer then came back over to the bed. “We have a son.” He beamed.

I chuckled weakly. “I know. Don’t I get to see him?”

“Gosh, yes.” He came over to the bed and sat, transferring the baby from his shoulder to his arm so I could take a look at the little bundle. I was too weak to hold him so I contented myself with admiring him. I knew his daddy had him anyway and would until I was fully recovered.

“You’re wrong,” I told him with a smile. “He still looks just like you.”

“You heard?”

I nodded.

“Then that means you also heard…”

“That too,” I affirmed.

Dr. Francis walked into the room with a smile. He was the doctor who had worked with me and Dr. Howard since my first seizure.

“Miss Hoskins, I was on my way to pay you a visit when the nurse alerted me that your buzzer went off,” he announced, drawing close beside me. “Welcome back.”

Lucas stood back, walking the baby and cooing to the child as the doctor made his checks. I couldn’t tear my eyes away from him and how natural he seemed at fatherhood. And to think I had thought to keep our baby from him. I’d been concerned he wouldn’t be able to bond with the child. Even when we’d spoken, it hadn’t escaped my attention that he rarely referred to the baby. His concern had only been with regards to my health. But watching him now with his son, it seemed my days spent in a coma had done some good. And I couldn’t be any happier for them.

I had a twinge of regret that I hadn’t been there to hear the first cry or get to hold him, but seeing the two together made up for every moment of his life I’d missed.

“You’ll regain your strength in a few days,” Dr. Francis said to me. “Your blood pressure is stable once more, as we predicted it would be once we got the baby out. I’ll make another check on you during my evening rounds.”

I thanked the doctor who left, and I was alone again with my family.

“Do you want to hold him?” Lucas asked, moving back to my bedside to sit.

“Not yet. My arms feel too weak. He’s beautiful.”

“Yes, he is,” he agreed. “Debra, thank you.”

“For what?” I asked, puzzled. All I’d done was lie to him.

“For being brave enough to keep him,” he answered. “You didn’t have to.”

I reached up to touch the baby’s soft hair. “Yes, I had to because he’s ours. He was a part of you I wanted to keep.”

“I’ll put him in his cot so we can talk.” I observed him as he placed the baby in the cot inside the room. I hadn’t even been aware of it.

He returned to the bed and straightway, kissed me gently on the forehead.

“I was so worried about you,” he informed me. “But I knew I had to be strong for you and the baby.”

“I’m glad you were here for him.”

“I doubted I could do it,” he confessed. “I wanted to reject him at first, Debra, but when I saw him, when I first held him, I felt this great love for him. I’ve only ever felt a love so great with one other person and that’s you.”

“I was wrong for keeping you away.”

“All that’s in the past,” he assured me. “Now we have our lives together to look forward to.”

“Yes, the three of us.”

He smiled brightly at me. A knock sounded on the door and we drew our attention away from each other as my parents entered the room. Mom had flowers and Dad held the door for her. They had started being cordial to each other when I was sick but there was something different between them now. I glanced questioningly at Lucas and he gave me a grin.

I winked at Lucas. “While they’re here, you have time to think of how to propose to me.”

“I’m on it,” he said with a loving smile. Our eyes held and we shared a look that told me everything would be fine between us.

“Well, don’t monopolize her!” Dad announced jokingly and Lucas stepped back as we all laughed. I watched him return to the cot where the baby had woken up with all the excitement and energy in the room.

I’d never felt more loved and complete as I did in that moment. Last year, I’d been depressed at only being a college student and the rest of my life unfulfilled. That sense of irrelevance no longer haunted me. For I was many things, a daughter, a friend, a mother, a lover.