In my dream, Leah was in the ICU, looking in at me through the observation window. She knocked hard to wake me, then entered and shook me violently by the shoulder. “Wake up, Riley! You have to wake up!”
My eyes flew open and I cried out in fear. Lois!
I leaped from my chair and rushed to her side where I found her resting peacefully on the bed. Though she hadn’t regained consciousness since the surgery, she was still breathing. The heart monitor was beeping steadily. It was a comforting sound.
I took her hand in mine and marveled at the warmth of her skin which proved there was life—glorious and beautiful life—still flowing through her veins. She was strong. She would make it.
Yes…there was hope and joy to be felt here. I knew it in my bones, even though, for a brief moment outside the operating room, I was certain I would lose her. I’d believed she would be taken from me. I’d felt that horrible premonition in my gut.
Then the doctor appeared and told me that Lois had pulled through. Against all odds. She wouldn’t be able to have any more children, but she had survived and was in stable condition, and for that I was grateful.
I bent forward and kissed the back of her hand. “Keep resting,” I whispered. “I promise I won’t leave your side, not even for a second. When you wake up, we’ll see our baby girl together and we’ll give her a name.”
It was a promise I would later regret.
Chapter Four
“Thank God she’s all right,” my mother-in-law said when she walked into the ICU a short while later.
I had called her during the night, not long after I was escorted out of the OR. She’d wanted to come to the hospital immediately but I begged her to remain at home with our children. She broke down into a fit of relief and tears a few hours later when I called to report that Lois had survived the surgery.
I rose from my chair to greet Carol, but as soon as our eyes met, I couldn’t form words. Neither could she. We stepped into each other’s arms and held tightly for a long time.
“The doctor was just here,” I said as we moved apart and collected ourselves. “She said Lois is doing fine.”
“But she hasn’t regained consciousness at all?” Carol asked with concern as she removed her coat and draped it over the chair.
I shook my head. “She lost a lot of blood. Besides that, she was in labor for almost twenty-four hours. Neither of us slept a wink, so she has to be exhausted.”
“You must be exhausted too,” Carol said, running a hand over my shoulder.
“I’ve been out cold in that chair for hours,” I told her. “How are the kids?”
“Fine. I dropped Danny off at school just now and your neighbor, Joan, is babysitting Trudy. I didn’t tell the children anything about what happened. I didn’t want to scare them. I promised they could come and visit later.”
“It’s just as well,” I replied. “I don’t think they need to know how close they came to losing their mother.”
“How’s the baby?” Carol asked.
“Fine. Eight pounds, seven ounces.” I held up my wrist to show Carol the bracelet that identified me as a new father. “One of the nurses came in during the night and gave me a full report. They asked if it was okay to feed her from a bottle because she was hungry. I said yes. I hope that’s okay. Lois won’t be happy about that. She wanted to breast feed.”
“It’ll be fine,” Carol said. “She still can, when she’s able. She wouldn’t want us to let the poor darling starve. Have you gone to see her yet?”
“No, I’m waiting for Lois to wake up. I want us to see her together, and we still have to decide on a name.”
Carol leaned over the bed and kissed Lois on the forehead. “Thank goodness everything’s all right. I don’t know what I would have done…”
My heart rose up in my throat. “Me neither. She’s my whole world, Carol. My life was a disaster until the day I met her.”
I had been living in L.A. and had just been released from my second stay in prison—a one-year sentence for a DUI that had been reduced to six months for good behavior. Determined not to end up back in jail a third time, I’d finally separated myself from the stoners I’d considered friends and joined a support group for addicts in the basement of my neighborhood church.
Lois worked in the coffee shop across the street and for some reason I’ll never quite be able to comprehend, she saw something in me. “Something magical,” she always said.
Lois was different from any of the friends I’d had in the past. She was a college girl—smart, kind-hearted, close to her parents. Most importantly, she believed in forgiveness and second chances.
“She changed my life,” I said to Carol.
Just then, a young nurse walked into the room and looked around with concern.
“Is something wrong?” Carol asked.
The nurse’s cheeks flushed red. “Did someone bring your baby down to you?”
“No,” I replied. “I told them to wait until my wife was awake.”
She immediately turned and ran out. I felt a rush of alarm and ran after her. “Wait! What’s going on?”
The nurse didn’t stop. She sprinted down the length of the corridor.
I followed and thrust my arm between the elevator doors just as they were closing, shoved them open and stepped on. “Why are you running?”
She pressed the “close door” button about five times in rapid succession.
“We can’t find your baby.”
“What do you mean you can’t find her?”
Her brow furrowed with tension. “She was there in the nursery earlier when we gave her a bottle. Then we laid her down to sleep, but now she’s gone.”
“Gone. I don’t understand.”
“I’m sure we’ll find her,” the nurse said, though she was tapping her foot anxiously, her eyes focused intently on the floor numbers as they changed. “Somebody probably took her to the wrong room. Maybe she’s back now.”
“What the hell?”
The doors opened and the nurse dashed off toward the nursery. I followed closely behind.
Chapter Five
“How could this happen?” I asked as I moved from crib to crib and checked the incubators as well. “You can’t just lose a baby. Someone must have taken her to another floor. Was she all right? Did something happen?”
“She was fine. She’d been sleeping since she had the bottle.” The nurse picked up the phone at the desk and called someone.
“What time was that?”
“Around five,” she replied. “She was due for another feeding and that’s when we noticed she was gone.” The nurse spoke into the phone. “No, the father doesn’t have her. He’s here with me now.”
“Who are you talking to?” I asked, holding out my hand to take the phone from her. “I want to talk to them.”
She handed me the receiver. “It’s the head nurse. She’s down in security looking at the surveillance recordings.”
“Jesus!” I grabbed the phone. “This is Riley James. Where’s my daughter?”
“We’re trying to locate her, sir.”
“I certainly hope so!”
The nurse spoke in a patronizingly calm voice. “We’ve notified security and put out an alert. They’re searching every floor in the hospital as we speak.”
“Have the police been notified?”
“Not yet.”
“I’m calling them right now.” I slammed the receiver down, pulled my cell phone out of my pocket and quickly dialed 9-1-1.
Chapter Six
I don’t believe actual words exist to adequately describe the agony a parent endures when a child goes missing. It’s an unimaginable nightmare, a bottomless pit of heartrending, uninterrupted black misery as you torture yourself with images of what could be happening to your child.
You are wracked with guilt and regret over all the little details—like waiting to see your baby until your wife regained consciousness—the things you could have done differently that wo
uld have prevented this terrible disaster from happening in the first place. As a parent, you believe you have failed your child. Thinking of her out there somewhere, without your love and protection, is beyond excruciating.
That is where words fail me.
*
It’s safe to say that the hours in the hospital after I spoke to the police were the darkest of my life—and I’d experienced some pretty bleak situations in my younger days. My addictions nearly killed me. I did things I can’t even bear to think about. Prison was no picnic, but it was nothing compared to this.
My baby daughter was gone and she didn’t even have a name.
I’d also watched my wife come close to bleeding to death on an operating table and I’d faced the clear likelihood of her death. By some miracle she survived, but she had yet to return to consciousness.
When she woke—and I prayed to God that she would—I’d have to tell her that the doctor had removed her uterus and ovaries. She’d learn that she couldn’t have any more children, and the baby she’d just delivered was gone. Our child had been stolen out of the hospital and I had no idea where she was, or with whom.
I sat next to Lois with my forehead resting on the bedrail, my eyes squeezed tightly shut as I caressed her limp hand in mine.
Please, God… Is this some sort of punishment for my past sins? Haven’t I done enough to atone for all that? Or is this some kind of test? Do I still need to prove how sorry I am? What more do You want from me? I thought You’d forgiven me. Why, God? Why this?
In that moment, Lois’s finger twitched. My heart beat thunderously in my chest as I lifted my head, opened my stinging, bloodshot eyes and searched her face for signs of awareness.
Her eyes fluttered open. I rose heavily out of my chair to lean over her. “Lois…baby, I’m here.”
She blinked up at the ceiling for a few seconds, then turned her head on the pillow and nodded weakly.
Tears filled my eyes as I bent forward to kiss her. My darling, beautiful wife… Thank you, God. Thank you for this, at least.
“The baby…” Lois whispered. “Is she all right?”
Carol approached the other side of the bed. “Lois, sweetheart… You’re awake. We’re so glad.”
She met her mother’s tearful gaze. “Hi, Mom.”
Carol bent forward to kiss and hug her daughter, and I knew there was so much more beneath this woman’s calm surface. Like me, she was overwhelmingly grateful for Lois’s recovery, yet cognizant of the terrible news we would have to deliver to her—after Lois had already endured so much.
“What happened?” Lois groggily asked. “Did they do a C-section?”
“Yes,” I replied, “and they got the baby out. She was okay, but you were losing a lot of blood. You were in bad shape.”
“Were you there?” she asked.
I nodded and squeezed her hand. “Of course. It was serious and I was pretty worried, but you pulled through. You were a real fighter, babe, just like always, and Dr. Orlean was amazing. She saved your life.”
“Sounds pretty dramatic,” Lois said with a tiny smile.
I’d never loved her more.
But the love I felt sent a severe burning dread straight to my gut.
“I’m sorry, but I have to tell you something else,” I said, steeling myself to deliver the first wave of the difficult news. “There were some complications with the surgery.”
“Is the baby okay?” she asked again.
“The baby did fine,” I replied, “but Dr. Orlean had to…” I stopped and looked down. “You were hemorrhaging, Lois. She had to do a hysterectomy. I’m so sorry.”
Lois lay still for a long time with her eyes closed, and I worried she hadn’t understood what I’d just told her. Would I need to describe all the details? Explain the reasons why? Maybe that would be better left to the doctor.
Then at last my wife opened her eyes, looked at me and spoke. “So I can’t have any more babies?”
I shook my head.
Lois breathed deeply and nodded with a quiet acceptance. “I suppose I should consider myself lucky. I’m alive today and I have three beautiful children—children I love. Can I see her?” She was of course referring to our newborn daughter.
Carol’s eyes met mine from the opposite side of the bed. We shared a look of painful indecision. How would we tell her?
“Not yet, sweetheart,” Carol finally said, taking hold of her hand. “There’s a bit of a…” She paused and swallowed uneasily. “A situation.”
Lois frowned. “What kind of situation? I thought you said she was okay.”
“She is,” I replied. “She was, but…”
“Was?” With a flash of concern, Lois tried to sit up, but winced in pain.
“Lois, sweetheart,” Carol said as she gently encouraged her daughter to lie back down on the pillows. “You’ve just had major surgery. You need to stay calm.”
Oh, crap…
“Stay calm?” Lois exploded with visible agitation. “What’s going on? What aren’t you telling me?”
I leaned over her. “I don’t even know how to explain… It’s bad, Lois. The baby was fine after the section. I heard her cry and it was the best sound in the world, but then they had to take her to the nursery while they finished working on you.”
She stared at me in horror. “And then what happened?”
It wasn’t easy to look her in the eye. “Somehow… I don’t know how… She went missing from the nursery.”
Lois shook her head in bewilderment. “What are you talking about?”
“She was there and doing well,” I tried to explain. “They fed her around six this morning, then put her down to sleep. When they checked on her later, she was gone.”
“Gone. How can…? What time is it now?”
“Almost nine.”
Her panicked eyes darted from my face to her mother’s. “They haven’t found her? This isn’t making any sense.”
“I know,” I replied. “We’re doing everything we can to try and figure it out. The police are here. I told them everything and they’re going to want to ask you questions, too. The hospital has been searching everywhere, but it’s like she just…disappeared into thin air.”
“Disappeared.” Lois’s face twisted into a mixture of confusion and anxiety. “My baby… Please tell me this is some kind of a cruel joke.”
A nurse ran into the room.
My gaze shot like a bullet to the poor innocent health care worker. I knew she had nothing to do with my daughter’s disappearance, yet I blamed her just the same. I blamed everyone in this place.
“She’s awake,” I told the nurse. “We just told her what happened.”
The nurse approached the side of the bed. “How are you feeling Mrs. James? Are you in any pain?”
“Are you kidding me?” she replied, trying again to sit up. “My husband just told me my baby’s missing. I don’t care about the pain!”
All the color drained from the nurse’s face. “I’ll get the doctor.”
She bolted from the room.
Chapter Seven
“I don’t understand how this could happen,” Lois said to me for the hundredth time after the doctor checked her over and gave her a sedative. “It was the first day of her life, her first moments in the world, and neither of us were there to hold her and tell her we loved her. Why didn’t you go as soon as you woke up?”
She laid a hand over her eyes, as if she couldn’t bear to imagine it.
“I was so afraid of losing you,” I explained. “You almost died last night and I wanted us to see our baby together so we could name her. I didn’t want to do it without you.”
She lowered her hand and gazed up at me pleadingly. “If only you had gone to the nursery and checked on her.”
I pressed the heels of my fists into my forehead. God, help us. “I know, I know! If I could go back and do it differently, I would. I didn’t realize she wouldn’t be safe. It’s a hospital.”
Carol, who h
ad remained silent until that moment, rose from her chair. “Lois, you can’t blame Riley. He was awake for almost thirty hours. He had to sleep at some point. We’re all on the same side here. We all just want to get your baby back.”
Lois listened to her mother’s gentle admonishment, closed her eyes and swallowed hard. “You’re right. I’m sorry.” She opened her eyes and squeezed my hand. “It’s not your fault. But how could someone just take her? And how will they ever find her?”
“We can’t lose hope.” Even as I spoke the words, they felt trite and clichéd.
“I can’t bear this,” Lois said to me. “All I want to do is get out of this bed and do something to find her, but I can’t even move!”
I laid my hand on hers but it was a flimsy, inadequate attempt at comfort because I knew nothing could ease her pain except the return of our baby.
“The police are doing everything they can,” I tried to assure her. “They understand how important it is to find her as quickly as possible.”
She listened for a moment, as if she were trying to cling to a dangling fragment of hope, but could find none.
Carol gave me a sympathetic look, but nothing could alter the fact that I blamed myself for this. Though my wife agreed it wasn’t my fault, the helpless, fearful look in her eyes was like a knife in my heart because despite my checkered past, she’d always called me her hero. She’d seen me as a good man. A strong man. She’d helped me believe it was true and that I was worthy of her love and capable of great things.
Today I was furious with myself. Why hadn’t I gone to see my newborn daughter? How could I have left her in the care of others for those crucial first few hours of her life? What was I thinking?
Lois looked into my eyes. “We have to find her, Riley. If we don’t, I don’t know how I’ll survive.”
I stood motionless in the sterile ICU room regarding the wife I loved—deep in the marrow of my bones—and felt a chill roll through my body. My daughter had been gone for as many as three hours. I wasn’t a cop or a psychic. What was I supposed to do? Go outside and sniff the wind?
08-The Color of Joy Page 2