her tiny lips, her button nose and her tiny, tiny eyelashes with an overwhelming sense of awe.
He glanced at Alyssa and in that moment they shared a special intimacy, a bond that shook him to the soles of his feet.
Together, they’d created these baby girls.
Looking at Alyssa holding Grace and the way Gretchen slept so peacefully in his arms, he realized what he’d told her earlier was true. There was no turning back. He was a father now.
This new, precious family was a part of his future. His and Alyssa’s future.
If only he knew how in the world he was going to make it work.
Alyssa rested for a few hours after the birth as the process had totally worn her out, but when she awoke she was alone in her room. She missed her babies. On the bedside table were two photographs, so she picked them up to gaze at the small pictures of Grace and Gretchen that the neonatal resuscitation team had given her.
The babies were small, but doing amazingly well. Kim had explained that the stress of her labor over the past few days had helped the babies develop enough surfactant in their lungs to enable them to breathe on their own.
At least, so far they were breathing on their own. The girls might need some help from a CPAP machine, which wasn’t as invasive as a breathing tube and ventilator, if they didn’t maintain regular breathing patterns, keeping an acceptable level of oxygen in the blood.
Renee had explained the concerns about intermittent apnea, a common phenomenon with preemies. They could breathe on their own, but it was almost as if they exerted so much energy to do the work they got tired out and stopped breathing for a few seconds.
So the baby girls would need to be on the heart and apnea monitors for a while, not to mention kept warm since their tiny brains weren’t fully developed yet to keep their temperatures stable. Hence the pictures, since Alyssa couldn’t have the babies housed in her room.
She was relieved they were doing so well.
Yet she didn’t want to look at pictures, she wanted to hold her daughters, touch them. Cuddle them.
Was Jadon in the neonatal nursery with them now? She was fairly certain he was. She bit her lip, anxiety creeping back into her chest. He’d been so wonderful through all this, taken on the role of being her birthing coach without making her feel guilty.
Her baby girls were seven weeks early. What would she do once they were big enough to come home? She knew she shouldn’t just plan on going back to Jadon’s house but if she didn’t, how would she manage to nurse them both while still managing to get some rest?
Was Jadon’s invitation to stay with him still open? She didn’t want her babies to suffer in any way. What if after a few weeks of no sleep he changed his mind?
Stop looking for trouble, she warned herself. Take it slowly, one day at a time, and the future would sort itself out when it was ready.
Sage advice. Now, if only she could heed it.
She swung her legs out of the bed and stood, feeling only a slight twinge of discomfort after her delivery. Reaching for a robe, she put it on, then walked out into the hallway to get directions to the neonatal intensive care unit.
“Right here,” Amanda, a helpful nurse, informed her. “We actually don’t call them neonatal ICUs any more, we call it a level-three nursery. But it’s right next to the level-two and level-one nurseries. As your babies progress, they’ll move down to the less acute area.”
“Good to know,” Alyssa admitted. Neonatal was not her area of expertise.
In the level-three nursery, most of the babies lying in their isolettes looked extremely tiny. She was somewhat relieved to realize her daughters were the largest babies in the group.
She stood in front of their isolettes, surprised to note Jadon wasn’t there. One nurse approached with a warm smile.
“Hi, my name is Carla. I’m the second-shift nurse taking care of Grace and Gretchen.”
“Hello, I’m Alyssa, the proud mother of these two. Oh, look, Gretch is waking up,” she said, leaning over when Gretchen began to stir.
“She is waking up. It’s about time as she’s been sleeping quite a bit. What a wonderful early Christmas present you have, hmm?”
Alyssa smiled weakly. “A better Christmas present would be to have them home with me.”
“True, but if they grow nicely and don’t run into trouble, that is a distinct possibility. Now, would you like to hold them? Both at once or one at a time?”
“Maybe just Gretchen, since she’s awake.” Alyssa figured she’d need to learn how to manage both babies at the same time eventually, but for now she thought easing into the process of learning about her daughters might be the better approach.
“Okay. Both girls have apnea monitors on, so we can watch their heart rates and breathing. I’ll fetch a warm blanket.” Carla hurried off, returning with a warm fuzzy pink blanket.
She opened the isolette and competently lifted Gretchen with one hand, taking care not to disturb the wires connecting the patches to the infant’s chest or the tiny IV as she slid the warm blanket underneath with the other hand. After tucking her cozily inside, she gently lifted Gretchen out and set the bundle in the crook of Alyssa’s arm. “Here you go.”
“Oh, she’s so adorable.” And tiny, especially being the smaller of the two. She clutched the baby protectively to her chest, infused with a wave of love. She’d do anything for her children. Anything.
Gretchen moved her head toward her breast in a rooting movement, her tiny mouth making sucking motions. Alyssa drew a quick breath of excitement and glanced at Carla. “Look, do you think she’ll be able to nurse?”
“It’s possible,” Carla agreed with a smile. “Your milk hasn’t come in, but the colostrum they’ll receive is even more healthy than milk. And worth a try, don’t you think?”
“Yes.” She was a little uncertain how to go about the whole process but Carla was great, helping her with techniques to encourage Gretchen to latch on. The baby only suckled for a few minutes before stopping.
“Don’t worry, preemie babies do tire easily. Once your milk comes in more fully, we’ll give intermittent feedings of your breast milk as often as the babies need it.”
“But what if they’re not strong enough to drink as much as they need?” Alyssa asked.
“We’ll give feedings through a nasogastric tube.”
A nasogastric tube didn’t sound good, but she tried not to show her discouragement. Carla tucked Gretchen back in her isolette and then drew Grace out for her turn. Gracie latched on to her nipple a little quicker than Gretchen, but also seemed to get tired quickly. Alyssa wasn’t sure either of the babies got any nourishment at all from the attempt.
“How am I going to keep up with breast-feeding both of them?” she asked, after she’d finished with Grace. The responsibility was daunting and she suddenly doubted her ability to be a good mother to the twins. “At this rate, they might need to be fed every hour.”
Carla put a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “Nursing is a wonderful experience, but the nutritional value of your breast milk is what’s most important for these little ones. Even if they can’t nurse for lengthy periods, they can get the nourishment they need if you pump your breasts and freeze your milk. We can feed them through a nasogastric tube if need be and then through a bottle. At least with bottle feedings, Dad can be more involved, too.”
Jadon. The image of his strong, large hands holding and feeding their daughters filled her with a mixture of longing and trepidation. Would he stick around for the long term? Or would he get tired of the responsibility of