Ryan would take every last bit of agony from her if he could. Since that wasn’t possible, he asked, “Can’t you give her anything?”
Dr. Murcia shook her head. “She’s too far along. It would slow things down, and your child can’t afford that. We need to get this baby out now. Okay, are you ready to push, Jane?”
Jane clenched her teeth and nodded.
The nurse picked up one of Jane’s legs and caught Ryan’s gaze. “Go to the other side and hold her leg, just like this.”
Ryan moved to the far side of the bed and used one hand to hold Jane’s leg as the nurse instructed, while he clasped Jane’s hand with the other.
“That’s it. Now, Jane, push on the next contraction,” Dr. Murcia said from the foot of the bed.
Ryan couldn’t understand how she could stay so calm. His focus was on Jane, but he was also willing his body to not pass out, which was becoming an all too real possibility.
Jane squeezed his hand with a strength he’d no clue she possessed.
“You’re doing great, Querida. I’m so proud of you,” he murmured.
The strain around her eyes seemed to ease as he spoke, and Ryan felt an ache in his heart at the sight of her trust in him even now, when she was pushed to her limit.
“Yes,” Dr. Murcia chimed in. “We’re almost there, Jane. We just need a few more strong pushes.”
A sobbing breath escaped through Jane’s pale lips. “I can’t,” she whispered. “Oh, Ryan, I’m so sorry…”
“Sorry? Ah, Querida,” he murmured, the words bordering on prayer, “don’t you realize? There is nothing you cannot do. I will spend the rest of our days trying to deserve you. You are my brave, strong love,” he vowed, kissing her whitened knuckles. “My brave, strong love. Fight now, Jane. Fight for our child, Querida.”
****
A blast of energy surged through her veins at the sound of his voice, and she lunged forward, giving it everything she had, squeezing his fingers as she held her breath and bore down through a long, sustained push.
For an instant, everything was silent. Then Dr. Murcia turned, with a bloodied bundle in her hands. “Okay, team, we have a Code Pink,” she said, and passed the motionless body to the neonatologist.
“She’s not crying,” Jane protested, gasping for breath. “Ryan, why isn’t she crying?”
Dr. Murcia placed her hand on Jane’s leg. “You have a very tiny, very beautiful little girl. Because she was born early, her lungs aren’t fully developed, and she’s having trouble breathing on her own. Dr. Blake’s team is taking over her care.”
“Oh my God, Ryan,” Jane said, and fought against the sea of sobs that rose in her chest as she watched the flurry of urgent actions taking place in the corner of the room. One of the nurses shifted, and Jane caught a glimpse of the tiniest person she’d ever seen. Their baby lay completely still, her skin a pale blue.
Jane wished she could unsee the vision. She wanted to look away and then glance back to the sight of a pink, plump baby screaming angrily over being roused from her warm and safe spot in Jane’s womb.
But she couldn’t look away. She could only stare at her daughter’s fragile body.
“Our baby,” Jane said weakly, clinging to Ryan’s hand. They watched powerlessly while the doctors and nurses inserted tubes and lines into the infant’s tiny body. How can something so small handle all that? Jane wondered wildly.
“Move her to the NICU,” Dr. Blake ordered, and turned to them. “Dad, you can follow us or stay here. It’s up to you.”
Ryan’s gaze moved to Jane and the anguish she read in his face practically tore her apart. “Go to her, Ryan. She shouldn’t be alone.”
“But you need me, too,” he insisted, and his voice hitched.
“My life’s not on the line. Our daughter’s is.” Jane squeezed his hand. “I don’t want our little girl to be alone if she…” Jane couldn’t finish that sentence, but she realized that she didn’t have to. It was clear that Ryan knew all that she was implying, and that he was haunted by the same fear.
He cupped her face within his palms. His thumbs brushed along her damp skin, and she closed her eyes.
“Look at me, Querida.”
Jane rallied to meet his gaze.
“Whatever happens,” he swore to her solemnly, “whatever the outcome, you and I will always have each other. We will get through this together. Do you hear me? We’re in this together.”
Jane nodded, doing her best to ignore the fresh tears that streamed down her face. “Together,” she promised him. “Forever. Now go to her.”
****
Ryan had to move quickly to keep up with the team heading to the neonatal intensive care unit. The first thing he noticed when walking into the NICU was a symphony of beeps and buzzers. The lights were dimmer and the temperature was warmer than elsewhere in the hospital, and he blinked to adjust his vision as he watched his daughter being attached to even more machines as she was placed in an incubator. Tubes and lines invaded her mouth, her tiny arm, even her umbilical cord. His only relief came from watching her pale blue skin slowly take on a rosier pink hue.
The neonatologist checked the monitors before walking to Ryan’s side. “Your daughter is stable, Mr. Keegan. She’s out of the woods for now.”
Ryan’s gaze remained glued to the incubator. “It’s Zeigler. Ryan Zeigler.” Suddenly, the mix-up of names seemed unbearable. It was bad enough that Nick had been the one to drive Jane to the hospital, and now he was being addressed with his name.
“My apologies, Mr. Zeigler.”
Ryan nodded. “Will she be okay? Is she going to make it?” He was afraid of the answer, but he had to know. If the news was bad, he wanted to be the one to prepare Jane for the worst.
“She’s very small. We haven’t weighed her yet, but I estimate her to be under two pounds. Her lungs haven’t fully developed yet, so she won’t be able to breathe without a ventilator, at least for now. The next few days will be crucial, but I’m encouraged that she’ll respond well.”
Ryan stepped forward and crouched down to get as close as he possibly could to his daughter. Her skin was almost translucent, her tiny veins and blood vessels visible beneath it. Never in his life had he seen something so small and fragile. Other than her little chest moving up and down in rhythm to a song only she knew, she was motionless.
As he watched her, a warm hand came to rest on his shoulder. “You’ve been given a gift today. This little girl is a gift.” Ryan listened to the voice of the woman behind him, a steady voice with a lilting Irish accent. “She’s in good hands—mine,” the woman said with a chuckle. “I’ll take good care of her.”
Ryan looked over his shoulder.
A stout nurse stood behind him, with graying hair and a crooked nametag with the name “Doreen” printed in block letters. “You need to have faith that all will be well with her. Go to your baby’s mum. She’s the one who needs you now. Come back with her when you can. We’ll be waiting.”
Ryan blinked back tears as he straightened and nodded. “Thank you,” he said, and walked slowly to the door. He turned back for another look at his daughter, etching the vision of her into his memory, hoping for a sign that everything would indeed be okay.
The baby’s hand moved slightly.
If Ryan had blinked at that moment, he would have missed it. But he saw the movement, almost as if she were reaching to him.
It wasn’t much. But it was enough.
****
Dr. Murcia was still in Jane’s room when he returned.
Jane pinned him with her stare, reading him without words. “She’s okay,” she breathed, more of a statement than a question, and he sensed that any other answer would break her heart.
“She’s stable,” Ryan answered.
“And she’ll be okay.”
Ryan tried to stay strong. He so wanted to promise that everything was going to be all right, but it was out of his control. He took a shaky breath. “I don’t know. She’s so
tiny, Querida. So incredibly small.”
As Jane listened, her eyes filled with tears.
A sense of helplessness overwhelmed Ryan, breaking down the wall of courage he had tried so hard to build. He crumpled next to Jane and embraced her. He knew they both needed to be brave for their daughter, but, in order to do that, they needed to let themselves feel the fear honestly, so that they could work through it. Together, they cried softly, drawing strength from being in each other’s arms.
Ryan wasn’t sure when Dr. Murcia left the room, what time it was, or even how long he and Jane held each other before they ran out of tears, but renewed bravery filled his core when he lifted his head and looked into Jane’s clear eyes.
“Let’s go see our daughter,” Jane said, with a watery smile.
“Are you sure you don’t want to rest a little?” Ryan asked. Dark circles stained Jane’s pale complexion. She looked as if she were in desperate need of sleep.
“No, I want to see her. I need to see her,” Jane said in a strong, clear voice. Her strength and conviction fueled Ryan even more, and he shot her a grin. “Your wish is my command. I’ll be right back.”
Striding out to the nurses’ station, he said, “I’d like a wheelchair for Jane Keegan. She wants to see to our daughter.”
Daughter. He loved the way that sounded.
A nurse pointed down the hallway and nodded. “You can grab one over there. I’ll be right in to help.”
Ryan pushed the chair into Jane’s room. “Your chariot awaits,” he said, and was reminded of the night he’d met her, and how he had fallen in love with her on Uncle Pascal’s gondola.
When the maternity nurse arrived and helped Jane out of bed, Ryan was alarmed to notice how unsteady Jane was on her feet when she tried to stand. “You’re worrying me, Querida.”
Jane winced as she moved into the chair. “I can handle some discomfort. I’m sure it’s nothing, compared to what she’s going through. She needs me. She needs us.”
“Only for a few minutes, this first time,” the nurse cautioned. “You’ve lost a lot of blood. You need to rest and build your strength.”
Taking over, Ryan pushed Jane’s chair toward the NICU, wondering how many sets of parents had walked that same path, and how many times he and Jane would have to follow it. In that moment, he truly realized that life would never be the same.
A serene vibe he hadn’t noticed before seemed to overlay the unit as they approached their newborn. Ryan’s gaze sought out Doreen, waiting for them just as she had promised.
“Ah! You’re back, and you’ve brought Mum,” she said with a warm smile.
“This is Jane. I’m Ryan.”
She nodded. “I’m Doreen, and I’ll be taking care of this little princess, most days.”
“How is she?” Jane asked as her gaze moved to the small form in the incubator.
“Her heart rate is strong. She’s doing well, for being one pound and seven ounces.”
Ryan pushed Jane’s chair closer.
“She’s so little. So many tubes and wires,” Jane whispered. “Why isn’t she moving?”
Doreen came to join them. “Babies born this early generally don’t move very much, dear. It’s perfectly normal. Preemies save their energy, and use it to help develop vital organs first. Nature is a beautiful thing.”
“May I hold her?”
“Not yet, I’m afraid. But as long as there are no complications, you should be able to hold her soon. But it’s all right for you to touch her though. Would you like to?”
Jane nodded. “Of course. Yes.”
Doreen took Jane and Ryan through the procedure for preparing to handle a baby in the NICU, and rolled Jane’s chair closer to the baby. Jane tentatively reached over the enclosure and touched her baby’s warm skin. She traced her finger lightly down the baby’s tiny arm, from her elbow to her hand. “I’ve never seen fingers so small. But she’s warm. So warm.” Jane placed three fingers on the baby’s side. “I can feel her heartbeat.”
“Aye. I told you, it’s strong,” Doreen agreed, and turned to Ryan. “Would you like to feel it?”
He gazed at his daughter’s tiny form. “I don’t know. I almost feel as if I could break her just by touching her.”
Doreen chuckled. “You’d be surprised by how much strength preemies possess. It’s deceiving. You won’t break her, I promise. Go ahead.”
He reached in and slid his finger down her leg to her foot. “Look at her toes.” She flexed her foot, and Ryan laughed. “I think she’s ticklish,” he said, turning to Jane, and felt his heart leap at the sight of Jane’s smile.
“And what is her name? Or shall I continue calling her Princess?” Doreen asked with raised eyebrows.
Jane and Ryan looked at each other. “The fair Princess Zeigler needs a name,” Jane said.
“That she does.” They’d discussed and even debated baby names, but hadn’t been in a hurry to decide on any finalists since they thought there was plenty of time.
Jane gasped. “Raya. I’d like to name her Raya.” Her smile grew bigger when the baby’s hand moved toward her.
“Raya.” It wasn’t a name either of them had mentioned before, but it was perfect. “How’d you come up with it?”
Jane tilted her head. “It just came to me, as if she just came into the world like a ray of sunshine. Plus, it’s a combination of yours and your sister’s names. She’s little and spunky, just like Maya, but I’ll bet she has your eyes.”
“Raya it is.”
Jane’s gaze followed the tubes to a host of beeping machines next to the isolette. “So many machines.” He watched as her glance moved across the room to the other isolettes, each holding a tiny baby. “Look at all these little lives.”
“Yes, and as long as you two are okay here, I’m going to check on my other little ones,” Doreen said, and headed to a nearby baby.
Jane shook her head. “I can’t believe Raya’s here. She should still be here,” she said, and touched her belly with her free hand. “She’s so different from Tyler as a newborn. He was a fat little baby who wouldn’t stop moving. I had no clue there were babies who were born like this.”
“The only baby I remember being around was Isabel, and all I really remember about her, as a newborn, was all her hair. She had so much of it,” Ryan laughed. “And I remember how fast she grew. Raya will grow fast, too. Before we know it, she’ll be walking and talking and driving.”
“And going on dates,” Jane joked.
Ryan shook his head. “Never,” he intoned with exaggerated solemnity. “She’ll never go on dates.”
As Jane giggled in response, the door opened, and the maternity nurse walked to their side. “She looks like she’s doing well. You’ll be able to see her again later tonight, but I need to get you back to your room now.”
Jane and Ryan pulled their hands from the incubator. Then, hesitating, Jane kissed her fingertips and pressed them to the clear plastic barrier. “We love you, little Raya.”
Ryan rested his palm on Jane’s hand. “She’s small, but she’s a fighter. Just like her mom.”
“More like her dad,” Jane laughed. “I thought you were going to throw Nick through a wall when you got here. You didn’t, did you?”
Ryan had almost forgotten about his exchange with Nick. “No. I guess I should be glad he showed up at the house when he did. Why was he there, anyway?”
He listened as calmly as he could, while Jane explained the reason for Nick’s visit on the way back to her room. Then he helped her back into her bed, and smoothed her hair back. “You look absolutely exhausted, Querida. Why don’t you get some sleep? I’ll call our families.”
Jane nodded as her eyelids closed. “Don’t forget to call Char.”
“How could I ever forget Charlotte?” Ryan kissed her softly. “I’ll be back later,” he promised, and made himself leave.
He followed the signs to the Emergency Room, since his car was still parked in the ER lot. More tired than he care
d to admit to himself, he made his way through the waiting room toward the exit.
“Ryan!”
Startled, he turned to see Nick waving his hands. “What are you still doing here?”
“How are Jane and the baby?” Nick asked.
“Jane’s fine. The baby’s on a ventilator, but she’s doing well, considering how early she is.”
“So it’s a girl? Jane was sure she was a girl,” Nick said, and smiled.
“Yeah, a girl she is. But why are you still here? Jane said you were on your way to a golf trip. We figured you’d be halfway to Arizona by now.”
Nick shrugged. “I couldn’t leave without knowing everything was okay.”
“That was decent of you, Nick,” Ryan said, and slapped him on the back.
“Yeah, well, I’ve made some poor decisions in my life. I’m trying to make up for a few of them.” He brightened. “But hey, congratulations are in order. Can I buy you a drink?”
“I don’t know. I’m bushed, and I have a lot of calls to make. I was heading home.”
“Fair enough. How about if I grab a six-pack and meet you there? I can call Jane’s side of the family.”
“That would help. It’s kinda weird … but ‘weird’ seems to be the way we do things.” The two men laughed and walked out of the hospital together.
****
Ryan took a long, cool sip from his beer bottle and stepped onto the patio, finally finished making the calls to the Zeigler-Rosales side of the family.
The conversation with Maya had taken the longest. She’d wanted every last detail of the birth and Raya’s status, and she’d cried when Ryan told her the baby’s name. It had taken a concerted effort to talk her out of planning a huge family party for Raya. “Let’s take it one day at a time, for now. She has a long road ahead of her,” he’d said to his sister.
“Done with the Keegan calls?” Ryan asked Nick.
“Tyler, Beverly, and Charlotte,” Nick said, holding up three fingers. “Charlotte gave me the third-degree about being here. She wanted to know my intentions. Can you believe that? Was I really that much of an asshole?”
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