these other tiny babies, most of them less than three pounds, and they’re doing all right.”
Alyssa’s mouth turned up in a watery smile. “They are all very tiny, aren’t they? You’re right, Gretchen is one of the larger babies in here. She’ll fight this and win.”
“Of course she will.” He slid his arm around her waist, turning her slowly away from the babies and encouraging her to walk along with him out of the nursery.
“How did she get pneumonia so quickly?” she fretted as they made their way back to her room.
“She was in utero longer than Grace,” he reminded her. “Maybe she aspirated during the delivery.”
He’d heard the story about his and Jack’s birth and the circumstances were eerily similar to those of Grace and Gretchen. Except he’d been the smaller, younger baby, in fact, much smaller than Gretchen.
He slammed a door on those wayward thoughts. The last thing he wanted to do was to draw comparisons between his daughters and how events had unfolded between him and his brother. There were plenty of neonates who got sick. A little pneumonia wasn’t the end of the world.
And no matter what, he was going to pay attention to both of his children—focusing on their strengths and offering encouragement no matter how different their personalities.
He managed to keep Alyssa resting in her room for a full hour while they ate dinner, but when they’d finished, she insisted on returning to the nursery.
He accompanied her back to see Grace and Gretchen, noting the nursing staff had been required to change Gretchen’s IV site already because her other one had blown. Knowing it was a common occurrence for infants didn’t make looking at her bruised yet delicate skin any easier.
“Poor Gretch,” Alyssa murmured.
“Let me hold her for a while,” he said to the nurse. “I’ll keep her in the isolette as she’s getting another dose of antibiotics, but I’ll cradle her in my hands for a bit.”
“Of course,” Carla said, gesturing to the isolette. “Go right ahead. The more you hold her, the more she’ll become used to your scent and your touch.”
“I know.” He gently lifted a listless Gretchen off the blanket, drawing the tip of his finger down the side of her cheek in a slight caress.
He’d tried to be strong for Alyssa, but as he stared down at Gretchen, he silently prayed his tiny daughter would make it through unscathed. That she’d not only make it over this hurdle of pneumonia but also over all the other hurdles she’d face throughout her life.
There were some things he couldn’t do for her. And fighting off this infection was one of those things. There would be others as well.
The responsibility of fatherhood weighed heavily on his shoulders.
Alyssa had to bite her lip hard to prevent herself from crying out as Dr. Downer placed a tiny CPAP mask over Gretchen’s face, the device totally engulfing her cute button nose and perfectly formed mouth. The apparatus seemed overly large and invasive against her tiny, dainty features.
Her daughter was sick. Very sick. And she couldn’t simply tell herself Gretchen would get through this, because she wasn’t certain she would.
How could such a small baby fight off a lifethreatening infection?
And why wouldn’t Jadon talk about his feelings?
Later that night, she followed Jadon back to her room. He stayed for a while, but then went home for a bit. When he left, she slipped out of bed and went back to the nursery.
The neonatal nurses looked at her with kind empathy, suggesting she needed to get some sleep, but she ignored their advice.
What if the mask didn’t work? She was too afraid Gretchen was going to need a breathing tube in her lungs and be placed on a ventilator.
“It’s after midnight, Ms. Knight,” Evie, the night nurse, said in her soft, quiet voice. “You really should go back to your room to get some rest.”
“Are you telling me I have to leave?” Alyssa asked sharply, annoyed by the nurse’s prodding. “I was under the impression I could stay for as long as I wanted.”
Evie’s eyes widened at her vehement tone. “Not at all, but wearing yourself out isn’t good for you either. I’m only concerned about your welfare.”
Alyssa closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She shouldn’t have snapped, but in that moment the nightshift nurse had sounded so much like Jadon she hadn’t been able to help her response.
“I’m sorry,” she murmured to Evie. “I’ll leave, soon.”
Her anger wasn’t really aimed at the nurse but toward Jadon. Over the past few hours she’d realized she resented how easily he’d gone home, leaving her here all alone. Granted, he’d been exhausted, and she’d noticed how he’d tossed and turned in the recliner. Still, she’d wanted him to stay.
Slowly she rose to her feet, understanding Evie was right. If she didn’t get some rest, she wouldn’t be any help to Grace or Gretchen.
If only Jadon were still here with her. Maybe then she wouldn’t have felt so alone.
The next morning, the uncomfortable tautness in her breasts confirmed her milk was coming in.
Good news that she’d be able to provide healthy nourishment for Gracie and Gretchen.
Especially Gretchen, who needed the extra boost now more than ever.
She went to the nursery for more attempts at nursing, and Grace did suckle for almost ten minutes, a record for the little one, but Gretchen was still wearing her mask, so nursing wasn’t an option.
She used the breast pump to provide milk for Gretchen’s tube feedings, taking time to hold the baby close for some additional bonding.
Kim showed up in her room after she’d finished with the girls.
“Good morning, how are you doing today?” Kim asked.
Alyssa’s smile was strained. “Fair, although I’d be much better if Gretchen’s pneumonia would clear up.”
“I know.” Kim’s expression softened as she continued, “You know, according to hospital policy, I’m supposed to discharge you today. However, considering Gretchen’s tenuous condition, and the fact that you’re breast-feeding, I could probably extend your stay one more day.”
She sucked in a quick, hopeful breath. “Really? You could do that for me?”
“Yes. I think I could make it work so your insurance will cover the extra day, too.”
“That would be wonderful,” Alyssa admitted. “Not that I’m thrilled with the idea of staying here in the hospital rather than being home in my own bed, but I really want to be close to the girls for a little while longer.”
“I understand,” Kim said with a smile. “Leaving your babies here while you go home is probably going to be difficult. And I can only promise one more day. Just remember you can come in to visit anytime.”
“Thanks, Dr. Rayborn,” she said gratefully. “I really do appreciate the extra time.”
“No problem. Please pay attention to your own body, too, though. You did just give birth and we need to make sure you’re fully healed as well. How have you been doing? Everything all right? No aches or pains, or problems that you might not have paid attention to?”
She hid a wince, knowing all her attention had been centered on Grace and Gretchen. She thought back over the past few days.