Spiralling Skywards: Book Two: Fading (Contradictions Series 2)

by Lesley Jones

  He lowered his head and sucked hard on my nipple.

  “Is there milk in them yet?”

  “Could be.” I combed my fingers through his messy hair and watched him, trying to read his next move as I held back a smile. “You keep sucking on them like that then you’re soon gonna find out.”

  He got right back to it, causing a strange tingle in my womb, which led to a practice contraction.

  “Shit.” He pulled away and looked up at me. “There is.” Sure enough, I had milk on the tip of the nipple he was just sucking.

  “What’s it taste like?” He dove back in for more before looking back up at me to answer. “It’s like watery milk but sweet.”

  The baby gave me a swift kick under my ribs and then another to my belly, finally drawing Liam’s attention from his mission. We both saw the baby’s limbs pushing against me and laughed.

  “He’s not happy I’m eating his dinner.”

  “Well leave her dinner alone and come eat me instead.”

  “No. No way. I did not just hear that. Seriously? She’s pregnant and in a bloody hospital bed. Get the fuck off her.” I peered over Liam’s shoulder to where my brother was standing in the doorway, holding a takeaway bag in one hand and shielding his closed eyes with the other.

  “Will you shut the door? I’m naked under here.”

  “Nope, not making this any better, Sunshine.”

  Luke turned around, obviously with his eyes still closed as he walked straight into the doorframe. He mumbled a few garbled swear words before saying, “Get the fuck off my sister, Del. I’ll be back in five minutes and you both better be dressed.”

  We spent the next five minutes laughing so hard it took another ten to put our clothes back on.

  When Luke came back, the boys drank beer and we all shared the Chinese that both Liam and Luke brought with them. We sat and talked about nothing for a couple of hours. Because one beer led to four beers, Liam ended up spending the night at the hospital with me again. When I got up to go to the toilet at around five in the morning, I knew something wasn’t right. My head spun, the room tilted, and my legs refused to hold my weight.

  “Liam,” I called out as my vision faded around the edges, and I had just enough time to wrap my arms around my stomach before I hit the floor.

  ***

  I woke up to an empty room. It was the room I was in yesterday, but something was different, something had changed, and I wasn’t sure of exactly what. I had a catheter in the back of my hand with both blood and saline dripping through it, and there was a blood pressure cuff around my arm, which made me jump when it started to tighten.

  The door opened, and Kim, one of the midwives I had gotten to know walked in.

  “Where’s Liam?” My throat was dry and sore, and I squinted at the sound of my own voice. It didn’t sound like mine.

  “Ah, you’re awake. Hang on, and I’ll let him know.” She turned around and left. Liam was through the door less than a minute later.

  His hair was all over the place, his shirt was a rumpled mess, and his eyes had dark circles under them.

  “What happened?” I started to cry—confused and scared. My belly hurt as I heaved out a sob, my emotions morphing to panic and sheer terror. I put my hand to my flat belly. That single moment when I realised my baby wasn’t there would stay with me for the rest of my life.

  Liam grabbed my hand away from my belly and kissed it.

  “It’s fine. It’s fine, bub. We’ve got our boy.”

  My whole body was shaking, and no matter how many times I blinked, I couldn’t see Liam through the tears. “Liam.” I managed to choke out on a broken breath.

  “Our baby is okay, Sarah. You’re okay. Take a deep breath.”

  I tried, repeating his words over and over in my mind until the panic ebbed.

  “They showed him to you when you were in recovery, you don’t remember?”

  “No. No, I don’t remember. Where is he? I need to see him.”

  He kissed my hand again and then all over my face.

  “Your blood pressure dropped really low, they don’t know why. The baby was showing signs of distress, so they had to do an emergency C-section.” I forced my eyes to meet his. I had surgery? My baby was okay. “He’s perfect, Sarah, he’s so small, and he looks like you I think. He’s got blond hair, loads and loads of blond hair.”

  Tears dripped from Liam’s nose and onto my face.

  “Can I see him? How much does he weigh? What time was he born? I missed it all.” I sobbed again as I looked around the room without finding my son.

  I have a son.

  “There was no choice, Sarah. You were at the side of the bed, and you shouted my name, I just got to you before you hit the floor. It all happened so fast.”

  “Were you there, did you watch?”

  “No.” He shook his head as he spoke the one word.

  “You wasn’t there? We didn’t see? Neither of us got to see him born?”

  “They had to be quick. They gave you a general and couldn’t wait for me to dress in. They held him up to me to see, though, and I’ve just been to see him in the baby unit. He’s five pounds one ounce or two point two nine kilos. He’s an excellent weight for being early, and he’s breathing on his own.”

  “I wanna see him.” I couldn’t stop crying. I was so upset that I missed my son being born. After everything we had been through, we both missed it. My whole body was shaking, and I had no control over the way my jaw was chattering.

  The door opened and my obstetrician walked in, followed by Kim.

  “You okay, Mrs Delaney? Why the tears? You gave us a bit of a scare there, but everything went just fine and both you and the baby are doing great.”

  “I wanna see my baby,” I spoke through gritted teeth, as it was the only way I could stop the rattling.

  The blood pressure cuff went off, and Kim moved around the bed to take a reading. A soft tsk noise sounded from where she stood, but then she put the thermometer in my ear and took a reading from that, too.

  “I’m gonna put the oxygen mask on you for a little while and raise the end of your bed. I think all of this has been a bit of a shock to you, my love, and your blood pressure has dropped a little low again.”

  I watched as Liam’s hand went to the back of his neck, and he slid off the bed and out of the doctor’s way. He looked as tense as I felt. The nurse shot him a look as she slid a mask over my nose and mouth, and he dropped his hand and sat on the other side of the bed.

  “I wanna see my baby, Liam. Make them bring him in here.” I didn’t give a shit about blood pressure or oxygen I just wanted to see my son . . .

  “All in good time. Let’s get you stable and then we’ll wheel you down to him. Do we have a photo?” The doctor pissed me off by answering for him.

  “I don’t wanna photo. I wanna see my son.” I tried to speak with the mask over my face, but no one listened.

  “I have some on my phone,” Liam offered as he shifted to pull his phone out.

  Overwhelming panic rose in my chest, and I pulled off the mask delivering oxygen so I could talk.

  “No. No. I don’t want pictures, I wanna see my son. Take me to see my baby. Liam, please, I just wanna see him. Please.” I was sobbing and talking through huge gasping breaths…

  His eyebrows pinched into a frown so tight it caused lines in his forehead as he looked between the doctor and me. I didn’t know why I noticed this but I did. I concentrated on those lines and tried to calm myself down.

  “Can we just wheel the baby down here and let her see him?”

  “Well, I’ll have to ask the paediatrician. I’m not entirely sure if that will be possible. Kim, could you find out for me.”

  “He’s my baby. You can’t stop me from seeing him. I’ll get up and walk down there if you don’t bring him here.”

  “Sarah. Calm down. Kim will get it sorted, but you need to calm down.”

  “Of course,” Kim said, offering a smile that was
just a bit too tight. “I’m sure it won’t be a problem. Your little man’s a champ. He’s doing just great, Sarah. You calm yourself down, and we’ll set something up.”

  The doctor didn’t seem impressed with her response his disapproval twisted his lips into a thin line, making me want to smack him in his smug face. This was all his fault.

  “How about a nice cup of tea and some toast in the meantime?”

  I shook my. “I don’t want toast. I just wanna see my baby.”

  Kim gave me another sympathetic smile. “I’ll have them send something up just in case you get hungry.”

  “That’d be great, Kim, thanks,” Liam said before I could turn her down again.

  “Well, Kim seems to have everything under control. We’ll keep monitoring that blood pressure of yours since it’s still a bit erratic. If you don’t have any questions, I’ll leave you to it.”

  I ignored him. I should have been grateful that he delivered my son safely, but I wasn’t. Instead, I blamed him for doing it all while I was unconscious and without Liam being present.

  “We’re good, doc. If we think of anything, we’ll talk to the midwives,” Liam answered when he realised I wasn’t going to.

  I changed my mind when the tea and toast arrived and decided that I was starving. We shared the space on my bed and sat and ate quietly.

  I felt totally lost and couldn’t seem to get a grip of my emotions. I was a new mother with no baby to hold. I wanted him with me so badly that the ache in my chest was beyond painful, and I felt as if I were fighting every moment not to cry.

  The door opened slowly, and Kim put her head in.

  “Okay, you two. His blood sugars have come back fine, and we’ve got his temperature up. Once you’ve finished your tea, we’ll pop you into a wheel chair and take you down to see him.”

  I swiped away at the fresh tears falling down my cheeks, and a nervous-sounding laugh escaped me as I asked, “Will I be able to hold him?”

  “You will, in fact, we’d like you to try to feed him so we can see how he copes with latching on.”

  I felt a huge sense of relief settle over me and closed my eyes for a few seconds so I could savour it fully.

  Twenty minutes later, my son was in my arms. He was perfect and very hungry and latched on to my breast on the third attempt. It took a few more attempts before he worked out how to breathe, suckle, and swallow, but he finally got it. When he did, I felt euphoric. I’d finally found my place . . . my role in life.

  I brushed my fingers over his head full of blond hair and breathed him in.

  “I’ve never seen you look more beautiful,” Liam whispered.

  “I’ve never felt more beautiful.”

  He leant forward, kissed me, and then kissed our son.

  ***

  We finally brought him home eight days later. He was still small, but he was so much bigger than most babies born at his gestation. He wanted to eat all the time, but he would fall asleep so quickly I ended up having to express milk after every feed so that Liam and I could share the load. Switching between the bottle and me confused him at first, but he eventually figured it out.

  The day we brought him home, I was a bit worried that we hadn’t picked a name for him yet. We had read list after list online and the titles after every film and television show we watched, but nothing was jumping out at me.

  I was sitting curled into the corner of our sofa with a cushion supporting my arm as I held the baby to me for a feed. As usual, Liam watched us with a look of reverence on his face.

  “You look exhausted,” I told him quietly.

  “I think I’m running on pure adrenaline right now, but I could sit here forever and watch the two of you.”

  “We’ll have an early night, I’ll wake up and do the feeds.”

  “I don’t mind doing them.”

  I shook my head. “I’ll do through the night and sleep in tomorrow.”

  “We’ll see.”

  “Any more thoughts on a name?”

  “I’m too tired to think about it right now. Let’s give ourselves a few more days to recover, and then we’ll have a brainstorm.”

  After a shallow bath to avoid getting my incision wet, I climbed into my bed, where Liam was already waiting for me.

  He pulled my back into his front, and we both fell asleep with our son sleeping in his crib beside me.

  I woke with a start hours later to an empty bed and an empty crib. Pulling my robe around me, I realised my boobs were full and leaking as I stood, It was almost five in the morning. We went to bed at nine, which meant I’d missed at least two feeds, possibly three.

  I pad barefooted down to the nursery, following the sound of Liam’s voice.

  He was standing in the middle of the room in just his boxers, his arms cradling our son as he swayed gently.

  “And when you’re a little bit bigger and your mum is feeling better, we’ll take you there to meet them.” I leant on the doorframe as Liam talked to the baby.

  “But you’ve got lots of family here, too. You’ve already met all of the crazy Carters, you’ve got big Uncle Luke, who will take on the world for you. Then, there is Archie, who’s your Pops, and Mai, who’s your nanna.” He was quiet for just a few seconds, but then he continued, “Oh, and there is Aunt Sash, who’s not technically a Carter, but she may be someday, if your uncle Luke finally grows some balls. She’s the craziest of them all, but don’t hold it against her, because again, she’s loyal and will guard you with her life.”

  He put the now empty bottle down. “Ya know what, little man? I’m actually digging that name. I think it might work. Carter Delaney, how does that sound, bud? We need to run it by your mum when she finally wakes from her coma, but I think we could be on to a winner.”

  “It’s perfect. Luke and Grandad will be chuffed to bits,” I whispered, finally stepping into the room. “How about Daniel as a middle name?” I added. It was only fair to give his family some recognition, too.

  “He’d be stoked, but he’s already getting Delaney as a surname, so we don’t have to.”

  “No, I like it. Carter Daniel Delaney. It’s perfect.”

  He pulled me in and, with Carter between us, kissed me hard on the mouth.

  “You’re perfect, even with leaky boobs.”

  “You say the sweetest things.”

  “What can I say, it’s a gift.” He winked as he said it, and I wondered right then how on earth we were gonna make it another five weeks without touching each other.

  2011

  Life was good. Carter was a happy healthy little boy. Despite being born early, he met all of his milestones with flying colours. He was walking at ten months, and at three, he could hold a conversation with any grown-up. He usually picked random strangers in the supermarket for this, and he wanted to know everything about everyone.

  “You lost? Where’s you mum?” he asked a really, really short lady doing her shopping one day. Another time, he was in the trolley as I unloaded my groceries onto the belt and asked the teenage boy on the till, “Oh no, who did that to your face? Does it hurt?”

  When I looked up, the poor kid who had the biggest spot on his chin was the colour of the bottle of tomato sauce he was packing into my bag. Although, I thought I beat him and managed to go a shade brighter.

  He told the man covered in tattoos in the newsagents, “Your mum’s gonna be mad when she sees all that purple on you.” Purple, being ink, or texter, or crayon, because for some reason, Carter had decided that anything he could draw with was a purple. A blue purple, a red purple and even a purple purple, but every writing device was a purple.

  Everyone, from the bakers to the girls at the hair salon and the lady in the dry cleaners, all knew Carter, and he lapped up the attention.

  He had just about every adult in his life wrapped around his finger, none more so than Luke, who constantly spoiled him and had made it his life’s mission—without much success—to convert him from a United supporter to an Arsenal fo
llower.

  Liam’s business had gone from strength to strength during one of the worst economic downturns in history and had expanded into avenues with varying degrees of success.

  He still travelled a lot, but for the longer trips, we usually went with him. By the time Carter turned two, he had spent time in Australia, Canada, America, and South Africa.

  It was because of all the travelling and my underlying fear of being sick again that we put off having another baby. I said we, but really, it was me. Liam had been on my case since before Carter turned one to start trying for another one, but I wanted some time to enjoy just him and us for a little while. It was good for us to spend the last few years getting to know each other better and learning to become parents.

  I really was a lucky girl.

  Just before Carters third birthday in May, I conceded and went off the pill. I was pregnant by June, and a week after I took the at home test, I found myself in a tiny room with Liam and Carter as I waited for the sonographer to come and perform my first scan.

  My fear over the morning sickness had been unfounded, and apart from feeling a little queasy and extremely tired, I was doing fine.

  Carter sat patiently waiting on Liam’s knee to get his first glimpse of his new bubby. According to him, this bubby was his, no one else’s—just his, and he took great pride in telling just about every person we passed on the street that his mum had a “bubby” in her belly.

  I watched Liam bury his nose in Carter’s soft blond hair and breathe in his scent. He was an amazing dad, just like I knew he would be. He hated the long hours he spent at the office or time spent away from us overseas but, if he wanted the business to continue doing well, it was a sacrifice he had to make. Thankfully, he had agreed to cut back his hours a bit after this baby was born.

  There were two soft knocks on the door, and then two women walked in.