I wait until she leaves before I step over and take the gown. “All right, Skye, let’s get you out of those clothes.”
“You were just looking for a reason to get me naked,” she retorts, tugging the garments off and handing them to me so I can fold them into a pile.
“Of course I was. You know me far too well.” As I slip the gown over her head, I see her hunch over.
“What is it?” I ask.
She waits for a moment, probably so the contraction will pass. “Nobody ever told me going into labor meant living with menstrual cramps from hell.”
“Having no experience whatsoever, don’t look at me,” I say, guiding her to the bed so she can wipe away the wetness as I sit beside her. Her motions are slow and erratic, probably because of the pain she’s feeling, and I wonder if they’ll give her something to take the edge off.
The door slowly opens, and another nurse, blonde this time, comes in, Skye’s chart in hand. “So, Ms. Williams, it sounds like you are about ready to deliver. I’m going to check to see how dilated you are, and since the water has broken, insert an internal monitor which will let us know what’s going on with the contractions, okay?”
“Yeah.” She turns to me. “Could you call Mom and Warren for me?”
“Of course. I bend and kiss her forehead. “I’ll just go outside and make the call.”
Skye grabs my hand and offers me a smile. “I love you. You know that, right?”
“Of course.” I squeeze her hand. “And I love you, too.” Although she’s in pain, Skye’s eyes are bright, brimming with the same fear running through me.
I bend low and whisper in her ear. “I’ll be right back. Don’t worry.” I kiss her again before slipping out. As the door closes, I feel my shoulders sag beneath the weight of everything, and I take a moment to catch my breath and try not to let everything sink in too deeply. If I start analyzing, I won’t be able to stop, and Skye needs me with a clear head.
There’s a bench to my left, and I ease down on it and pull out my cell. The phone rings twice before Warren answers, and all the things I’m dreading to say form in my mind.
“Hey, Warren, this is Devin. We’re at the hospital. Skye’s water broken. She’s going to have the baby today.” I pause for a second, waiting. There’ll be a million questions, and I hope I can handle them.
“Isn’t this a little soon?”
“Yeah. She’s four weeks early. I haven’t spoken to Dr. Klein yet, but I’m sure they’ll be calling him in if they haven’t already.”
Another lengthy pause. Warren’s trying to stay calm, but he feels the panic just as well as I do. “How is Skye?”
“In pain. She didn’t even know she was in labor. She thought she had food poisoning or something.”
At a different time, I’d be laughing about that, and so would Skye, but right now we’re all trying to grasp what this is going to mean.
“Hang in there, Devin. Helen and I will be there as quickly as we can.” Despite trying to keep his tone even, I can hear the panic.
I swallow hard. “I will, Warren. And I’ll tell Skye you’re on your way.” Snapping the phone shut, I peer at the door, and figure I’ll stay here just a couple of minutes more to give the nurse time to finish the examination. It’s only when the door slowly opens I stand.
“How far along is she?”
“At a six. It won’t be long.”
I grit my teeth, knowing this can’t be good, that the baby isn’t ready. “But if the baby is early, won’t that cause problems?”
“I can’t really tell you, but I’m calling Dr. Klein right now. Whenever he comes up, I’m sure he’ll be glad to talk to you about it.”
“Thanks.”
She nods. “You’re welcome, and by the way, she’s asking for you.” Brushing past, she heads back to the nurses’ desk, carrying the clipboard.
I thrust my hand through my hair and jerk the top button of my shirt loose so it’ll be easier to breathe. Have I ever mentioned I hate hospitals—especially this one, which is where she was brought after the pills that they almost didn’t pump out in time. I know this hospital should mean something else, like the birth of our first child, but when I’m looking at the fact she’s way early going into labor, it’s hard. God, it’s hard.
I force myself to stop thinking along those lines, knowing it’s not going to help anyone, least of all Skye. Instead, I edge back into the room where Skye has turned onto one side, her eyes tightly closed. I’m not sure she hears me approach. Is she sleeping?
Not sure what to do, I sink into the one chair in the room and lean back. As my weight settles, the chair squeaks, and Skye opens her eyes, seeking out my face.
“There you are,” she whispers, reaching for my hand.
“Told you I’d be back.”
She gently squeezes my hand. “I thought you’d found some pretty nurse to run off with.”
I encircle her hand with both of mine. “Well, there was this brunette….”
She glares at me. “Not funny.” Her expression shifts, contorted by another contraction. “Did they say how long it was going to be?”
“No, not yet, but I’m thinking Dr. Klein will be here at any moment. I’m sure he’ll want to examine you himself.”
For a moment, she holds her breath as the contraction takes hold, tensing every muscle in her body. It’s only when the breath finally seeps through her clenched teeth I know the contraction has finally passed. She turns her attention back to me.
“I don’t need a doctor to tell what’s going on, Devin. I’m having a baby—your baby.”
“Even in pain you’re a smartass,” I mutter, relieved she’s dealing with all this so well. Then again, I’m not sure she’s got a choice.
“You taught me everything I know.” Her eyes close, hinting she feels another contraction, which unnerves me because they’re so close together. Sweat plasters the hair to her forehead, and she licks her lips as though she’s thirsty. I wish I could take her pain away, but I know that’s not in the cards.
And where is Dr. Klein? I would feel a little bit better if I’d at least seen the man set foot in the hospital.
The door opens, and I look up, thinking that my wish has been granted. No, it’s actually Helen and Warren, both wearing flustered expressions.
“Skye? Are you all right, baby?” Helen says, stepping to the bedside.
“I’m in labor, Mom. Other than that, I’m fine.” Her tone is sharp, but it’s not without reason as I look at the monitor beside her bed. She’s at the high point of the contraction, and even though Skye’s got a really high pain tolerance, she’s not impervious to it.
“Did the doctor say anything about what’s going on?” Warren stands next to me, his worried gaze fixed on Skye.
“He hasn’t made it in yet, but I think he’ll be here soon. He can’t afford not to, considering how quickly Skye’s contractions are progressing.”
As if my words had magic, the door opens, and this time Dr. Klein steps through, Skye’s chart in hand. He looks from Skye to me, and I’m pretty sure he’s going to want to examine her. “Perhaps we should step outside,” I suggest, nodding toward the door.
“All right.”
Warren and I step toward the door, but Skye holds fast to her mom’s hand, her way of asking Helen to remain with her. As the door closes, shutting both of us into the hall again, I take a deep breath and let it out slowly.
“I’m sure she’ll be fine, Devin.” Warren sets his hand on my shoulder.
“I know. I just hate seeing her in pain like this. I wish I could do something for her instead of feeling so useless.”
“I know,” he says, walking over to the bench where I’d been sitting earlier. “I felt the same way when Helen was in here. I think it’s easier to be the one in the hospital than the one sitting and waiting for something to happen.”
I sit beside Warren. “This seems so unreal.”
“Of course it does. You thought you’d be ready
for the birth of your child when the time came, but the truth is, no matter how much time you had, it wouldn’t be enough to prepare. It never is.”
I lean back. “I know. It’s just tough. I mean, give me something I can fight, and I’ll do it in a heartbeat, but this…this is hard in a different way.”
“It won’t be for much longer.”
He’s right. I know deep inside he is, but being able to convince myself of that is a bit more difficult, so instead of dwelling on that, I shift the conversation to something more manageable-–something I can protect Skye from if necessary.
“Did you know Skye’s father was at the wedding? Did you see him?”
Warren’s frown deepens. “Yes, I did.“
“How’d he even know about the wedding? I can’t see Skye having invited him.” I rake my fingers through my hair.
“I think Helen sent the invitation.” He stares ahead without meeting my gaze.
“Why would she do that?” I glare at him, not sure how to take this latest twist.
Warren turns slowly and looks at me with that calming demeanor he has, as though there could be a massive earthquake and he’d never even panic like everyone else. Sometimes that calm can be infuriating.
“Devin, I know you see this as a betrayal of sorts, but—”
“Damn straight I do, and you should, too. You know how hard it was for Skye to finally get past the fact he’d uninvited his own daughter from his life.”
Warren holds up his hand. “Here me out. It’s important. When Helen sent the invitation, she was still reeling from the stroke. She kept worrying what would happen to Skye if she passed away; she knows that Skye feels isolated most of the time. In her mind, she was trying to restore her relationship with her father.”
My back tenses, and I try to loosen it, but this conversation damned sure isn’t helping. “But what if he doesn’t deserve to have Skye anymore?”
Warren offers a sad smile. “Skye more than anyone could tell you sometimes it’s not about what we deserve.”
I stand, wanting to punch something, not that it would ease this fury I can’t ditch, but at least it would take the edge off. “So what happens when he hurts her again? Did Helen even think of that?”
Warren, too, stands. “I know you’re angry.”
“Damned right I’m angry.”
“Which is one of the ways I first knew you were the one for Skye. You’ve always tried to protect her, Devin, but no matter what you do, you can’t protect her from everything. No one can. Sometimes you just have to have faith that everything will eventually work itself out the way it’s supposed to. Ronald might hurt Skye again, and you’re right to be concerned, but what if he doesn’t? What if he’s ready to try to do the right thing? Have you considered what that might mean to Skye?”
Frowning, I try grapple with what this means, and suddenly it occurs to me Warren has more to lose than I do because he’s not Skye’s father. I shake my head. “Have you?”
He nods. “Yes—but I have enough faith that Skye’s heart is big enough for the two men she thinks of as fathers, and I’m okay with that.”
Before I can argue the point further, the door opens and Dr. Klein sticks his head out. “Mr. Abbott, your wife is asking for you.”
“Thank you.” I turn to Warren and nod for him to follow, and together we walk back into the labor room, where Skye is lying in pretty much the same position as when I’d left. “How is she?” I ask.
Klein scribbles a note in the chart. She’s dilated to a 9, and I’m thinking that baby will be out within an hour or two at most.“
I’m diligently working to grasp what he’s saying even though in some respects it scares the hell out of me. “Is the baby going to be okay, considering it’s four weeks early?”
He looks at me. “As I was telling Skye, there are risks. The lungs might not be completely developed, for one thing. There’s also a risk of jaundice, but had Skye gone into labor a week to two weeks earlier, things would have been considerably worse.”
Skye groans as another contraction hits, and I look at Klein. “Is there anything that can ease her pain?”
He nods and glances at my wife. “Yes. I’m ordering an epidural now to get her through the last part of labor.”
Although he starts towards the door, Skye suddenly gasps and yells, “I have to push!”
“Ms. Abbott?” Dr. Klein abruptly turns and decides to take another peek. The ensuing frown deepens the creases on his forehead, and he stands. “Scratch that hour, Mr. Abbott. The baby is crowning.” He rushes to the door and yells for a couple of nurses.
Warren nods toward the hallway. “I’ll wait out there.” Helen, too, gets up so I can move to Skye’s bedside. The sheen of sweat is thicker, and droplets run down the sides of Skye’s face. Her breathing is erratic, and the monitor beside her seems to be going crazy measuring the contractions.
It’s no wonder Skye’s body is tight with pain and fear. She latches onto my hand, and her wide eyes look into mine, saying all kinds of things she doesn’t have the energy to put into words.
“I’m right here.” I settle my other hand atop hers so it’s sandwiched between them, and she closes her eyes as the nurses swarm around the room, prepping everything for the birth. It all blurs around the edges except for Skye.
“I need to push!” Skye screams again, her back suddenly rigid as she strains with the pain. Her other hand clenches the mattress, and she’s taking this shallow, raspy breaths which doesn’t seem to be doing her much good.
Dr. Klein slides into place so he can guide the baby out. Then he says, “All right, Skye. Wait until the next contraction, and then I want Devin to help you sit up so you can push as hard as possible, okay?”
She closes her eyes as the last of the contraction passes and her body relaxes into the brief reprieve she’s been granted, yet we all know it won’t be long. The nurse on the other side of Skye is staring intently at the monitor, waiting for the slightest rise signaling the next contraction, and when she sees it, she nods to me.
“Okay, babe, it’s time. Take a deep breath and sit up to push.”
Skye’s dark eyes resurface, and she nods. As she moves to sit up, I slip my arm around her and help her move the rest of the way.
“Now push, Skye,” Dr. Klein orders.
Skye grips my hand so hard her knuckles are white Her whole body clenches not only from the contraction but also from the force she’s exerting, trying to push the baby out. It seems to go on forever, and I hear my wife groaning. It’s only when I think she can’t take any more I see the contraction’s peak easing as I look at the monitor.
“Good job, Skye. Part of the baby’s head is out. Now I need you to lie back and rest until the next contraction. Devin will let you know when it’s coming.”
As I hear Klein’s words, I gently set her back against the bed. More sweat. She can barely see through it, so I wipe her forehead with one of the nearby towels.
“You okay?” I ask, feeling miserable in her pain.
“Been better,” she mumbles, and I know if she weren’t in the middle of trying to get this baby out, she’d be sleeping. She’s that exhausted.
About three pushes later Klein says, “Okay, the baby’s out!”
Skye seems to immediately go limp in my arms, I gently set her back against the bed, grateful she’s looking at me because if not, it would almost seem she’d just passed out. “You were awesome,” I whisper and kiss her forehead.
“You’re only saying that because I gave you a daughter.”
“A son,” I correct, grinning.
“No,” Klein, argues, “Skye is correct. You have a daughter.” And in that moment, I hear our baby’s first cry—a healthy squall which Klein responds, “and her lungs are just fine.”
The color leaves my face as I think about this, suddenly swept away by the realization I‘m a father. It’s one thing to be told it’s going to happen and quite another when the baby is being offered to you in a li
ght pink blanket.
“Oh, God,” I whisper, suddenly not sure I’m at all ready for this, and yet I reach out to take her, amazed at her small size and beauty, with dark blue eyes that peer at me.
Her skin is splotchy and red. She’s only got a small tuft of light brown hair atop her head, and she’s making sucking motions with her lips, yet I can’t help but recognizing Skye in her, and I realize that for the second time in my life, I’m in love as I’ve never been before, and that my daughter is the second most beautiful person I’ve ever laid eyes on.
“She’s amazing,” I whisper and turn so Skye can see her.
“She’s perfect,” Skye whispers, tears pooling in her eyes as she reaches for our daughter. “So perfect.” Her voice is thick and painful, twisted with many emotions, and it’s only when I think about it I know doubt is the strongest, probably because she never thought God would trust her with such a miracle again, but I think God sees Skye as I do. How could He not?
I hand the baby to her and watch as the little one immediately curls against Skye’s chest and goes to sleep, content to be close to her mama. It’s not long before Skye, too, drifts to dreams, and I have no doubt they include a beautiful little girl she’s just met, especially when I see the corners of her mouth tilt slightly upwards.
Chapter Twenty-One
It’s been over a year since Helena was born—a year of sleepless nights and walking the floor, not to mention a million wonderful changes. I sit on the beach where Skye and I always vacation. Somehow we even managed to get the same cabin we stayed at last time, when things finally started to come together for the two of us.
Right now, the sun is setting, casting an orange watercolor glow across the ocean while Skye holds Helena’s hands and walks with her just at the edge of the water where the tide is ebbing toward the sand. Helena’s pudgy toes dig into the sand, and she points at the gulls reeling overhead, spiraling around one other. Her hair is baby-fine, and Skye has taken the very top of it and pulled it into a ponytail that reminds me of Pebbles on the old Flintstones show. She’s wearing a navy sailor dress that only makes her more adorable somehow. Skye is also wearing a navy dress that’s pretty close to Helena’s.
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