Bent not Broken

by Lisa De Jong

  Dad poked his head through the door. “You’re all cleared. Are you ready to go?”

  I nodded pensively, both eager and terrified to meet my daughter.

  Cautiously, I stood, the ache searing through my chest.

  Mom wrapped a supportive arm around my waist as we followed Dad to the elevator. The gesture wasn’t enough to keep my anxiety from boiling over.

  It was hard to breathe as the elevator door opened to the floor below. I reached out to the wall for support as the window came into view, the one displaying the perfect, healthy babies. Families stood with smiles on their faces, excited to catch their first glimpse.

  Dad stopped me at the sign directing us to the neonatal intensive care unit. “Daniel, do you need a few minutes?”

  I shook my head. I needed to see her now, no matter how scared I was.

  We walked farther down the hall to a window with a woman behind a counter. In a very low voice, Dad said, “Baby Montgomery.”

  “ID’s please.” She began to go through a list of the rules, but Dad cut in. “I’m a consulting physician on the case. I’ll go over the details with them.” He took out his ID and the woman verified it.

  Even though infants were not his specialty, I took comfort in knowing my father would watch over her care.

  Once the nurse buzzed us through double doors, we scrubbed our hands at a sink. I washed beside Dad, my gut twisted in knots, unable to grasp what I was preparing to face. Finally, we entered through a second pair of double doors, the light dim and the room quiet. It was as if I had entered another world. Little incubators sat between curtained walls, nurses quickly and silently moving around the room. Couples sat in rocking chairs next to some of the incubators, a few of them with babies in their arms.

  Fear traveled up my spine and settled in my neck as it all became real. A lump formed in my throat. Swallowing over it, I followed Dad across the room.

  My knees became weak when I first saw her, and Dad reached out to steady me. Placing all my weight upon him, I tried to rid myself of the apprehension I felt so I could focus on my daughter.

  Wires were everywhere—in her legs, in her arms, running through her nose and mouth. I couldn’t hold back the sob when I saw just how small she really was. Her legs and arms were not much thicker than one of my fingers, and her whole body was not much longer than my hand. Her skin was almost transparent, as if I could see every vein in her body. Her eyes were taped closed, and her little chest rose and fell with the machine that kept her alive.

  It was simultaneously the most horrifying and beautiful thing I had ever seen.

  She was so broken and yet so perfect.

  My daughter.

  My heart swelled with love for her and broke all at the same time. “Eva,” I whispered to her, hoping she could hear me.

  “What did you say?” Mom asked, a small smile on her face and her cheeks wet with tears.

  “Her name is Eva. We decided last night.” How long ago that perfect moment seemed now.

  “It’s beautiful.” Mom reached a tender hand out to me, once again, giving me comfort.

  “Can I hold her?”

  Could I? I was terrified, but I’d never wanted anything more.

  “Give me a minute and I’ll check” Dad walked to one of the nurses, talked to her lower than I could hear. She followed him back and pointed to the single chair that was in the enclosure.

  “If you’ll sit there, I’ll bring her to you.”

  Obviously she was adept at her job as she shuffled wires around and wrapped Eva in a blanket at the same moment she lifted her. Carefully, she transferred my daughter to my arms. I cautiously held my little girl, her chest resting against mine.

  Precious.

  I closed my eyes against the fear and the pain and just loved her.

  It was the only thing I could give her.

  Breathing her in, I committed her unique scent to memory. She smelled almost sweet, like her mom, but something altogether her own. I smiled against her head and cradled her to me, rocking her, murmuring my adoration to her.

  “Please, baby girl, you have to be strong.”

  In silence, my parents stood by my side, each with a hand on one of my shoulders, their support complete and unending.

  I flinched with the flash of light as Mom snapped a picture of us. “Sorry,” she mumbled. I shook my head. I didn’t mind.

  I’d only held her for a few minutes when the nurse said it was time to return her to her incubator. I watched as the nurse settled her back and checked her monitors. As much as I hated the thought of leaving her, it was time to go to Melanie.

  When I reached in to touch her little hand, Eva wrapped it around my finger. I smiled as I felt her against me. I whispered, “I love you,” as I caressed the back of her hand. Longing filled my chest when I turned to walk away.

  The second we were in the hall, Mom pulled me into a hug. “I’m so proud of you, Daniel. You’ve grown into the man I’ve always prayed you’d become.” Swollen and red, her eyes shimmered in the light as she looked at me.

  I hugged her back, needing her support now more than I ever had. “Thank you, Mom.” My voice was strained with the fatigue that quickly set in, the unrelenting pain in my chest absolutely killing me as I sagged against my mother.

  Dad joined in our embrace, drawing us close as the three of us grieved together. He pulled back first. “I think Melanie should be in her room by now.”

  Taking Mom by the hand, he led us upstairs to Melanie’s room. When Dad reached for the latch, I stopped him. “Can I go in alone?” I just needed to be with her by myself for a while. With a nod of understanding, he opened the door and stood aside.

  The room was quiet and dark as I entered, and all air escaped my lungs in an audible rush when I saw her lying in that bed.

  Melanie.

  She was white against the already white sheets, except for the huge purple bruises beneath her eyes. An IV bag hung near her head, the tube trailing down and attached to her wrist. Her mouth was slack and covered with tape that held the tube in her throat, her chest rising and falling at a constant rate. The heart monitor with its rhythmic beeping and the soft, steady sound of the ventilator were the only background noises. A blanket was pulled up over her chest and tucked under her arms, her body a silhouette beneath it.

  Everything else was completely still except for the energy flowing between us. It was all the reassurance I needed to believe that she was really going to be okay. My relief was almost palpable as I released a weighted breath.

  Moving to stand beside her, I took her hand in mine. Her fingers twitched, and I knew she was aware I was there.

  “Hey, Mel.” I placed a soft kiss on her temple and ran my fingers over her cheek, whispering near her ear, “My love. You’re going to be okay.” I settled into the chair next to her, her hand still in mine.

  “We have a baby girl.” I smiled at the image of Eva in my head. “You have to get better quickly so you can meet her.” How much I wanted Melanie to see and hold her, but all I could do was tell her about her. “She’s amazing, Melanie. So beautiful, just like you.” I choked on the emotions, knowing Melanie would understand them better in my touch than with any words I could say.

  I sat by Melanie’s side for hours before Mom and Dad finally insisted I get something to eat.

  “I’ll be right back, baby.” I glanced at her one more time as I stepped outside the room, praying she would be fine until I returned.

  When I turned down the hall, I came face-to-face with Steve. His face was red and contorted, chest heaving with rage.

  “You fucking coward!” I barely registered Steve’s arm cock back before a stinging pain tore through my head as his fist connected with my face. The force knocked me to the ground. My hand went to my eyebrow, fingering the wound where the stitches had been ripped open.

  “Are you insane? Don’t you dare come in here and make this any worse than it already is,” Dad hissed at Steve. I looked up at Melan
ie’s father. His face full of bloodlust just moments before now looked down at me in horror.

  “No, Dad. He should be angry,” I sputtered as blood flowed down my face and over my lips.

  “Steve, I’m so sorry.” I swayed to the left as I tried to get to my knees, my body threatening to collapse at any moment. “We never should have kept this from you. Please understand. We were on our way to tell you.” I shuddered as memories of the accident flashed in my mind.

  The remorse evaporated as he seethed and leaned toward me, his hands resting on his thighs, his face close enough that I could smell the alcohol on his breath.

  “You expect me to believe anything you say, Daniel, when I get a phone call two hours ago that my baby girl,” he ground out, gesturing to himself with his thumbs and exaggerating the words, “was in a car accident on the way back from Boulder when she was supposed to be staying the weekend with a friend?” His breaths came heavy, and I could actually hear his teeth grinding together. “Then I show up here and ask for her room number, and they want to know if I also want the room number for her baby. Do you have any idea how that feels?”

  I jumped as he abruptly stood and swung around, smashing his fist against the wall, crying out in both pain and fury.

  “Steve, you have to calm down. I know you’re angry, but this isn’t the time or the place for this.” Dad tried to temper the situation, but Steve’s rage only grew.

  “You!” Steve shouted as he pointed a shaky finger at Dad. “You knew the whole time, didn’t you? Every time you passed me on the street, you fucking knew, didn’t you?” Dad’s silence served as confirmation. Steve rubbed his hands over his face, his eyes wild. “Were you taking care of her?”

  Dad’s patience finally hit its end, his cheeks red and his voice low, but sharp and stinging. “Of course I was taking care of her. Would you expect me to do anything different? She came to me!” He jabbed himself in the chest with his forefinger. “Maybe she would have come to you if you paid her a little attention instead of spending every free second drowning in your own self-pity. Did you really not see it, Steve? That girl,” Dad said, pointing at her door, “has been showing for two months! And what did you do? You turned your head the other way.”

  A crowd had gathered, visitors peeking out from cracks in doors, two nurses watching nervously at the front end of the hall. A security guard rounded the corner, and Steve stepped back, raising his hands in surrender.

  “Sir, we’re going to have to ask you to leave.”

  The hostility bled from him as his shoulders slumped, and Steve turned his face to the floor, his brow twisting in torment. “Please...I just...I need to see my daughter.”

  “Let him stay. Steve, you need to go to her,” I said. Steve seemed unwilling to look at me while he waited for consent from the security guard. The guard gave Steve what he said would be his first and only warning.

  Dad helped me to my feet, and we left Steve to stand in the hall in front of his daughter’s door.

  “Come on, Daniel, we need to get your eye fixed.” While my eye was resutured, Mom brought us dinner from the cafeteria. We ate in silence, exchanging nothing more than the occasional apprehensive glance. It was so hard to just sit and wait, each of us subject to the hands of fate.

  “I’m going to go back upstairs.” I finished my food, tasting none of it, anxious to get back to Melanie. “Dad, could you check on Eva?” I felt an impossible pull between my two girls, wanting to be with both of them at the same time.

  When I returned to Melanie’s room, I found Steve sitting next to her bed with unshed tears in his eyes. He didn’t acknowledge me as I came in, but I didn’t feel threatened by him, either. We both sat in silence, neither of us regarding the other, each of us just there for her.

  I turned when I heard subdued footsteps. Dad came up behind me and placed both hands on my shoulders.

  His voice was muted. “I just left Eva. Nothing has changed since this afternoon.”

  I nodded, both thankful and discouraged at the news. At least she was no worse.

  A few seconds passed. The room was quiet except for the sound of the ventilator.

  “Eva?” Steve whispered.

  My heart broke as her name came from his lips, his heartache unbearable.

  “Yeah, your granddaughter’s name is Eva. Melanie and I picked it yesterday.” I hoped giving him this information wouldn’t remind him of where Melanie had been, but rather help him focus on the fact that he had a granddaughter. I wanted him to talk to me, to ask me about Eva. Instead, he stood and strode from the room.

  ****

  Dad left for the night and I tried to settle in, falling into fitful bouts of sleep that didn’t last for more than a few minutes at a time. Nothing changed, though I woke often just to make sure Melanie was okay, to feel her skin under mine. Then my eyes would flutter closed once again for a few moments.

  My eyes fought against rays of sunlight coming in through the window. I must have fallen asleep. The last time I looked at the clock it was three in the morning. Hushed voices wrestled in the background; I could discern one was Mom, the other familiar, but unidentifiable. They were quiet, but not friendly.

  “For six months? How could you?”

  “What else was I supposed to do, Peggy? She didn’t feel she could come to you. Maybe if you focused a little bit more on your daughter, you would have realized what was going on. She needed you. Instead, she had to come to me. I didn’t mind, of course, I love her like my own, but she needed her mother!” Shifting in my chair, I rubbed my face to get rid my fatigue, before I stood and walked to them.

  “It’s okay, Mom.” This wasn’t a battle she needed to fight; if Melanie’s mom had a problem, she needed to take it up with me. Mom had only done what was right.

  “Peggy,” I started to speak to her, but she held up her hand.

  “Don’t give me any excuses, Daniel. This is all your fault. I can’t even stand to look at you. You make me sick.” She shook her head, turned, and walked to Melanie, shutting us out. I wanted to resent her for her words, but how could I? I already knew I was to blame.

  “I’m going to see Eva. Call me if anything changes, okay?” It was the right time to go. Peggy needed time alone with Melanie, and I needed to see my daughter.

  I hurried to the NICU, checked in, and washed up, this time not hesitating as I went to her. She looked the same as she had the day before, yet somehow, I loved her more.

  They let me hold her for a short time again, stating that it was good for her to feel me, but she also needed the warmth of her incubator. It was so frustrating. I wanted to hold her all day, but I also wanted what was best for her.

  That’s how I spent the next day and night—dividing my time between my girls. I felt like the go between until the three of us could be together. It was as if I were carrying a piece of one to the other, making them whole, as if we were part of the same soul.

  Just as I had the night before, I slept in Melanie’s room. Mom woke me with breakfast that she had picked up from the diner near the hotel.

  “Good morning, sweetheart.” She kissed me on the head, her smile soft, but her body weary. “Did you sleep okay?”

  I shrugged. How well could you sleep in an uncomfortable chair in a hospital room? But I wasn’t going to complain. I was the one who had gotten off easy.

  Pursing her lips in transparent worry, she pulled my food from the bag, setting it before me. She looked as exhausted as I felt, drained from days of stress and far too little sleep.

  I glanced at her and then the Styrofoam container. She really was an angel. “Thanks, Mom...for everything.” I hoped she understood how much I appreciated her.

  Her mouth twisted, her expression serious as she lifted my chin. “Your my son, Daniel. You know I’d do anything for you.”

  Nodding, I mumbled, “Yeah...I know.”

  Her face brightened as she seemed to push aside the heaviness. “I’m going to head down to check on Eva. Why don’t you f
inish your breakfast and then meet us down there? Your dad took Peggy and Steve over to meet her, so you might want to give them a few minutes alone with her.”

  “Yeah, I’ll come down in half an hour or so.” Yesterday they’d sat vigil over Melanie for the entire day, refusing to leave her side. I just hoped that meeting Eva now would finally soften their hearts toward her.

  As I ate, I talked to Melanie, knowing she could feel my presence. I finished and sat by her for a few minutes more, letting her know how much I loved her.

  “Sweetheart, I’m going to see Eva now.” I kissed her head, and her pulse quickened beneath my touch.

  “I love you too, Mel.” I smiled. Finally, I felt like everything was going to be okay—that we were going to make it.

  I ran downstairs, now familiar with the routine. I jogged down the hall and to the elevator. I rushed past the newborns and turned into the hallway leading to the NICU, stumbling over my feet when I turned the corner. Mom clutched Dad, sobbing as he held her up, her legs slack beneath her.

  My eyes scanned, finding Peggy in a similar position against Steve.

  My heart stopped.

  My feet that were frozen seconds before broke flat out into a run. Racing the rest of the way down the hall, I passed my parents and gripped the handle to swing the door open.

  I had to get to her.

  Two strong hands yanked me by the shoulders, holding me back.

  “Daniel, stop.” Dad’s voice cracked. His hands slid from my shoulders to wrap around my waist, dragging me back. “Daniel,” he grunted through his tears. “Look at me.” I struggled against him. I had to see her.

  “No, Dad! Let me go!” I screamed at him, but he wouldn’t release me.

  He couldn’t keep me from her.

  “Daniel, please,” he choked, his words like poison as they came from his mouth. “She’s gone. It was just too soon.”

  “No.” I shook my head. “No!”

  “Daniel, it’s too late.” Hands restrained me, but my body pushed forward.

  “No! Please. Save her. You have to save her!” I begged. “No!” If I said it enough, I could make it true. She couldn’t be gone. I just saw her.