by C D Cain
Sam hadn’t felt Jesse’s hand on her arm, nor the shake she gave it, but she did feel Gentry’s. Gentry’s eyes were filled with panic as they stared at her over the edge of the mask. She hadn’t needed anyone in her life for a very long time. At this moment, that all changed. She needed Sam. With every cell in her body she needed her to ease her fear and lack of control as to what was happening to her. Sam nodded assuredly and patted Gentry’s hand before grabbing the rails to help lead the bed out of the room.
Dr. Waggoner rounded the corner as the stretcher passed the nursing desk. “Looks like she’s ready to make her entrance.” She said as she looked down at Gentry. “I know this is scary and rushed but we need to do an emergency procedure to deliver the baby because she’s showing too much distress to be able to do a vaginal delivery.” She spoke rapidly as they continued pushing the stretcher down the hallway. “We are prepared for this. Okay?”
Gentry nodded just as the team met them to wheel her into the operating room. The doors closed briskly behind them.
In full muscle memory control, Sam stopped at the sink next to Timber who had already begun scrubbing her hands. She took a scrub brush packet from the box above the sink but struggled with opening it as she couldn’t steady the shake of her hands. Timber noticed the fine white line around Sam’s lips which were not covered with a mask as she had forgotten to put both her scrub hat on and her mask before starting her scrub.
“Hey Jesse,” Timber said softly as Jesse exited OR room. “Will you page for a first assistant to join us as soon as possible.”
Jesse stopped and turned back to Timber with a look of confusion. “But…”
“Dr. LeJeune won’t be scrubbing in on this case.” She motioned for Sam to drop the scrub brush. “She’s a partner and mother right now, not a doctor.”
Jesse reached back into her pocket and called for an assist as she ran back down the hallway.
Timber held her hands in the air and backed into the operating room. “Ms. Bell needs you more than I do right now.”
Anesthesia was positioned over Gentry’s head when they entered the room. He was explaining to her each step he was doing. Her lack of fully understanding his words from underneath his mask was doing nothing for her anxiety. The beeping from the cart next to her was deafening. It grew faster and louder as her fear began to overwhelm her. She closed her eyes tightly to drown them all out. She felt a breath at her ear followed by the sound of Sam’s voice saying, “I’ve got you.” She opened her eyes quickly to see a glimpse of Sam’s eyes holding her gently before the medication took effect. The furrow of her brow released as she drifted off to sleep.
For a moment, everything seemed to stop. Sam knew there was a whirlwind of activity around her as the team prepped and draped Gentry as fast as they could. She knew what was going on, yet she didn’t seem to be a part of it. In her small space of time she was frozen. Staring down at Gentry’s sedated face, she saw her world potentially seeing yet another change. She had grown closer to Gentry than she had let herself believe she had. She had stared at her baby’s ultrasound photo more times than she would like to admit. She looked down at her palm and slowly closed it into a fist. The thought of feeling the baby kick against her hand as it laid on Gentry’s belly being the only contact she would ever have to it, gave her body a chill. It was then that she thought of Rayne. Briefly, she closed her eyes to the vision of her. Sam had never come close to physically losing anyone she was close to…not to death. She was close to so few in her life. Standing here next to Gentry with the surgery taking place behind the drape that shielded her body, she understood loss with no chance of return. For the first time, she felt to her core a sliver of what Rayne had felt with Memaw’s passing. She understood the rock that changed Rayne’s world forever.
Beep. Beep. Beep.
As if in a distance or even a cloud, Sam heard the faint sounds of Timber calling for surgical instruments. She knew every step of the surgery. Every single step. When Timber called for the first assistant to apply upper abdominal pressure, she knew the uterus had been opened and the baby’s cries should soon follow.
Beep. Beep. Beep.
The neonatal intensive care nurse whizzed by Sam and quickly returned to her table with the baby. Sam steadied her dizziness by resting her head against the anesthesia cart. The metal was cold against the sweat of her forehead. Her stomach rolled in a wave of nausea when she head the nurse rhythmically counting off her chest compressions.
“One-two-three-four. Come on little lady. Come on. Breathe for us.”
Sam didn’t look. She didn’t have to. She knew from past experience exactly what she would see. Numerous times she had been the one to look over her shoulder while a team of nurses desperately tried to bring back a newborn who had suffered a loss of oxygen during delivery. She had even been the one on those times to tell the family the news that would leave many to collapse in a chair with screams of heartbreak. No, she didn’t have to look. She bent forward and kissed Gentry’s forehead softly and wondered if it were to be her last. Surely, Gentry would run after something traumatic like this happened to them.
“Whaaaaaa.”
The baby’s cry caused Sam’s neck to jerk so hard that she felt the muscles spasm in a prolonged contraction. The whole team applauded and screamed a sigh of relief.
Timber arched her back away from the surgical table to see Sam. “Congratulations. She’s a beautiful baby girl.”
They were there before she felt them. The tears. They had streamed down Sam’s face before she even felt them form. She breathed for what felt like the first time since they had entered the room. She didn’t know what to say. She couldn’t actually speak even if she did have the words. She rubbed Gentry’s cheek once more and stood up. She peered over the nurse’s shoulder while bracing herself with her hands upon it to look at the baby.
“She’s beautiful, Dr. LeJeune. Absolutely beautiful,” the nurse whispered from underneath her surgical mask. She slipped a pink cap over the head full of jet-black hair.
The wood of the chair creaked with each slow rock. It was one of two sounds in the dimly lit room connected to the NICU of MDI Hospital. The other was from the baby held in Sam’s arms as she drank her bottle. The feeling of holding a tiny little person who was already dear to you was not taught in medical school.
“I thought I might find you here,” Timber said as she entered the room. “I Just left Ms. Bell. She’s recovering nicely but is still sedated and sleeping.” She walked over to Sam’s chair and peeked down at the baby. She really is beautiful. Look at that tiny little nose.” She smiled. “There’s nothing like it, is there?”
“Nothing like what?”
“Holding your baby for the first time.”
Sam inhaled deeply. “But she’s not my baby.”
“She could be. It’s not about the pregnancy or the birth itself, Sam. It’s a bond. A connection between mother and child.” Timber paused and looked around the room. “It’s what you’re both feeling at this very moment in this tiny dark room with her in your arms.”
All Sam could see of the little girl was her face. The rest of her body was wrapped snuggly in a blanket. Her face was innocently free of worry. Sam felt an intense need to keep the scars of the world far from her.
Timber placed her hand on Sam’s shoulder. “I’ll leave you with this thought. Ms. Bell has not decided on an adoptive family as of yet. Although, she’s very sure she wants an adoption to take place. Why can’t you be the family she’s looking for? You need to tell her how you feel.”
“I don’t know how. Besides, you said it. She doesn’t want to be a part of her family. She’s not ready for that change in her life.”
“Have you two committed to one another? Actually, admitted you’re a partnership.”
“Well, no.”
Timber squeezed Sam’s shoulder. “Then maybe a family, whether w
ith a child or only a partner, is not what she wants altogether. Perhaps there isn’t a choice to make between them but rather only one choice.”
“Which is?”
“To hold onto what you’re feeling right this moment with that baby in your arms.”
Chapter 25
“Oh!” Quinn covered her mouth with her hands as her eyes began to well up with tears. She shook her head to and fro.
Sam looked at her with a quizzical look.
Quinn moved one hand down to pat her chest. “I’m sorry. I just never expected my little girl to open the door one day holding a baby in her arms.” She dabbed the tears from her eyes before her mascara could be smeared. “You’re so beautiful.” She tucked her finger inside the blanket of the swaddled baby to see her face. “You’re both just so beautiful.”
The edges of Sam’s eyes curled up with the width of her smile. She rocked Baby Girl in her arms as she rubbed her cheek with her finger. “She is, isn’t she? She’s the most beautiful baby I’ve seen.”
Quinn put her hand on Sam’s arm. “She rates right up there with one other I’ve seen.”
“Oh crap, Mom, come on in,” Sam said when she realized they were still standing in the doorway of her condo. “I’ll put her down in her bassinette and help you with your luggage. She’s sound asleep.”
“Don’t you dare.” Quinn grabbed the handle of her rolling luggage and followed Sam into the living room. “Or better yet, why don’t you just put her in my arms?”
Sam tenderly placed Baby Girl in her mother’s arms and stopped to take in the sight of Quinn staring at her sleeping face. She put her hand on her mother’s shoulder and leaned in to kiss her on her cheek. “Happy Thanksgiving.”
“Oh, Sam, she’s just perfect. Look at this precious baby.” Quinn ran her nose over the top of her head and breathed in her scent. “There’s nothing like the smell of a baby.” She smiled and held the baby closer to her chest. “What’s her name?”
“We call her Baby Girl. Or sometimes I call her Beeg. Especially if she’s crying and I’m at my wit’s end to know why.”
“Which she knows I detest,” Gentry said as she came out of her bedroom door. She closed it quietly behind her.
“Mom, this is Gentry.” Sam motioned to Gentry and then back at her mom. “Gentry, meet my mom, Quinn.”
In unison, the women greeted one another. Quinn quickly returned her gaze to Baby Girl. “She’s a beautiful baby, Gentry.”
“With a beautiful soul. She speaks volumes to me in her eyes.” Gentry walked over to Sam.
“Did you get a good nap?” Sam asked as she kissed Gentry’s forehead.
“I did. But when are these going to stop? It’s been four weeks since my surgery. Why do I still get drained sometimes?”
“Ummm, this little nugget wakes up every three to four hours. So there’s that. Plus, you cleaned the entire condo yesterday. Even against doctor’s orders. I think you have every plausible reason why you should be tired today.”
Gentry rolled her eyes. “I’m ready to be back to myself.”
Baby Girl started squirming in Quinn’s arms. “Sam, dear, I think she’s getting uncomfortable. Maybe we should lay her down so she can get some good sleep?”
“Sure. Do you want me to get her?”
“No, I’ve got it.” Quinn walked toward the door Gentry had exited from. “Is the bassinette in here?”
“Oh no, sorry. It’s in my room.” Sam took a step toward the other end of the living room. “That’s Gentry’s room. My room’s over here.”
Quinn followed Sam into her bedroom to lay the swaddled Baby Girl down. She covered her with the blanket from the bottom of the bassinette. “I don’t understand. Why isn’t she staying in her mother’s room?”
“I’ll explain later,” Sam said. “But first,” she extended her arms, “my mom hasn’t hugged her daughter yet.”
Quinn smiled broadly as she took her one and only child in her arms. She ran her nose over the hairline of her daughter’s forehead and breathed in her scent much like she had done Baby Girl’s. “There’s nothing like the scent of your baby.”
“Do you want some more coffee, Mom?” Sam held up the thermal carafe.
“Yes, please.” Quinn held out her cup.
Sam filled it and added a teaspoon of both creamer and sugar. Quinn brought the cup to her mouth and smiled at her daughter. “I can’t believe you remember how I take my coffee.” She took a swallow and hummed. “Mmmm. So good.” The warmth of the cup felt good against her hands in the Maine November air. The steam from the cup rose up around her face. “You’ve got a wonderful space here. Not that your entire condo isn’t lovely, but I do believe this is my favorite spot.”
“Mine too.” Sam watched as a sailboat drifted into the bay. She reached over to caress her Mother’s arm. “I’m glad you’re here, Mom. A true thanks this Thanksgiving.”
“As am I, dear.” Quinn brought one hand from the cup and patted her daughter’s hand. “I wasn’t looking forward to this holiday at all until you called.”
“How are you with Dad and all of that?”
Quinn raised her eyebrows. “With being an old divorcee, you mean?” She took a swallow of coffee and initially questioned the depth of her answer. Then again, her daughter had always known and even seen in her later adulthood years the truth of her marriage to her father. She hadn’t grown up in a household of loving parents, so why should she worry of the effect of the divorce on her daughter’s feelings as to the potential feelings of loss? Also, there was the truth of how lost she felt without the duties of a prominent wife in society. She was no longer asked to host nor invited to large social gatherings. The divorce had taken away what she had deemed her life. She wondered if that truth would hurt her daughter more than any. “It’s been an adjustment but I’m looking forward to finding my way again.” She gave her a half-hearted smile and then looked out at the still waters of the bay. After all, she was still a mother who needed to protect her daughter.
“Have you thought of what you may do with your extra time?” Sam knew her father’s mandates on her mother’s time was ridiculously controlling. Everything about her daily activities screamed a need to fulfill his personal or professional gains. She was constantly planning or attending some event or another for him.
Quinn shrugged. “I don’t know.” She set her coffee cup down on the side table between them. She pulled the blanket at her feet over her legs as they stretched out on the ottoman. “I’ve always wanted to do something with my degree but you know I never had time.”
“Your degree?”
“Yes.” Quinn smiled. “I’ve got a bachelor’s degree in interior design.”
Sam sat up in her chair. “What? You do? How do I not know this?”
“I don’t know. I suppose by the time you were born, it was such a part of my past that I didn’t think of it any longer. I think it was hard to think about because it seemed like such a waste of effort, time, and money as I never did anything with it.”
“But now you can. Why don’t you open up your own business?” Sam asked excitedly.
Quinn dismissed her idea with a wave of her hand. “Oh no. That time has passed. Furthermore, Atlanta is overpopulated with interior designers. I wouldn’t stand a chance. Maybe if I lived in a smaller area it would be possible, but not there.” She again straightened the blanket across her waist. “Enough about me.” She turned to look over her shoulder at the front door of the condo. “Let’s talk about you while we have the chance with the baby sleeping and Gentry away. I’ve got questions if you don’t mind me asking them.”
“Okay,” Sam said hesitantly as she turned down the volume of the static from the baby monitor which rested on the table between them. She smiled as she ran her thumb across the picture of the slumbering baby. “But I’m suddenly very nervous about these questions.”
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br /> “For starters, it’s that right there.” Quinn pointed to the monitor. “I don’t mind telling you that I’m worried about you where Gentry’s baby is concerned. In just the short time I’ve been here, I’ve noticed that you’re more of a mother figure to her than Gentry.”
“I’ve already told you Gentry is planning for Beeg to be adopted. She’s said all along that she didn’t want to or wasn’t ready to be a mother. I think it’s a very smart thing she’s doing knowing she feels so strongly about it. I support her one hundred percent. She doesn’t want to be a mother.”
“Oh, I see completely what you’ve told me. It’s not a natural instinct in her. It’s obvious. But it’s not so obvious in you.”
“What do you mean?”
“What I mean is…you’ve got those instincts. Everything about how you interact with the baby shows me that. The way you hold her. The way you look at her. You love her. At this moment, you’re a mom to her. I’m worried about you, Samantha. What’s going to happen to my baby girl when an adoptive family is found?”
Sam couldn’t hide or even attempt to hide the way her face fell. She picked up the monitor and listened to the sleeping sounds of Baby Girl. She wet and then bit her bottom lip. She gazed up at her mother with tears forming at her lower eyelids. “I don’t know, Mom.” She shrugged as the tears fell down her face. “But she’s Gentry’s baby. It’s her decision as to the home she goes to.”
The sadness in Sam’s tears was more than Quinn could handle. The sight alone made her own tears begin to develop in her eyes. When she envisioned the inevitable heartbreak her daughter would yet again face, they became a flowing river of tears that she was defenseless to control.
Sam lifted her hand in the air to hold her mother’s. “Don’t cry. It’ll all be okay. Baby Girl will be with a loving family ready and capable to give her a home and love she deserves.”
“And my girl? How will she be?”