Page 17 of Without You, Scotch and Sammy 2

“I don’t know about that.”

“This has been the longest few months of your life, I’ve no doubt. But one day, you’ll look back on it and think of it as the fastest few days you’ve ever experienced.” She points back to the paper between us. “Iron. She’s still anemic, so continue with the five mil a day. You’ll be doing that for a long while yet, so get used to it.”

“Alright.”

“Ironically, all your problems now stem from her being premature, not her exposure to drugs. So that’s a silver lining. Maybe stop at the baby store on the way home and buy some of those sensor pads for her crib. SIDS is still a concern, so they’ll alert you if she stops breathing. She’s technically just about three months old, but medically, she’ll have a corrected age. Some kids will walk at ten months, others not until fifteen or sixteen months or even later. But every single milestone we expect babies to hit, you need to allow for an additional three months adjusted for Lily.

“Dr. Hopps will be expecting you in his office in three days for a follow up on her airways. He’ll go over all this again, and you can ask any questions you might have thought of.”

“How often will we need to go to the pediatrician?”

“It’s up to him, but I think a couple times this week and next, then maybe once a week, then once a month and so on. You’ll be getting to know your pediatrician well over the next year, anyhow.” She stops for a long moment, placing her clasped hands on top of the paperwork, and flicks her pen absentmindedly. “I don’t know the legalities of what’s going to happen for you guys. I don’t even know the whole story, only what’s discussed in the lunch room here at the hospital. But I sincerely hope sweet Lily gets to stay with you, and if she can’t, then I hope she finds an equally amazing home. She’s already been through so much, and her life has barely just begun. She deserves a break, and I think you’re it.”

I don’t know what’s going to happen either, but on top of doctors visits, Lily and I will be visiting some lawyers in the next little while. Juliette Jones has helped as much as she can, but seeing as she’s not my lawyer, I need to get that sorted. “Thank you, Calicia. I’ll be around.”

“Send me a Christmas card, won’t you? Put her sweet cheeks on the front.”

I smile as I consider Lily with a giant red bow and Christmas baubles strewn around her. “I will. I promise.”

***

A week after being granted temporary custody pending court ruling, and taking Lily home from the hospital, my phone rings loudly, startling both Lily and me out of an exhausted sleep. My head snaps around and my hand comes up to wipe drool from my chin. My eyes are crusty and sore from lack of sleep, and my voice is hoarse from my pitiful attempts to sing for her all night long. She slept well on our first night home. I was smug that I had this gig under control. Mom’ing isn’t hard. Single mom’ing is even easier. It’s just like a girl’s sleepover where we hang out and drink milk a lot of the time.

But on day two, it all went to shit.

She refuses to sleep. I sneak around my house, tiptoeing in a foggy haze in an attempt to not wake her. I barely breathe while she sleeps, for fear of making too much noise and waking her.

I made toast on day two and woke her up, then I flushed the toilet a few hours later and woke her again. It took me hours to get her down both times, so since then, I don’t eat while she sleeps and I don’t flush when it’s just pee. I’m so tired, I literally just sit in a non-creaky chair, wearing non-noisy pants and non-squeaky shoes, and I watch her chest rise and fall rhythmically.

Last night we both cried from exhaustion, and in a desperate attempt to sleep, I broke several rules that the hospital laid out for me. No co-sleeping. No sleeping while sitting in a chair. No sleeping with big fluffy blankets.

Last night, we ended up in my recliner chair, with the foot rest pulled up and the back pushed back a little. We co-slept while sitting up, and I had a large fluffy blanket pulled over us because we were cold. Lily slept properly for the first time in a week, and she did it with her face on my chest and my terrible singing in her ears. Sweat pooled between our skin, but we were both so happy, I wouldn’t change a thing.

She snorts in shock when the phone rings, and her still black eyes flutter open as she looks around the room. “Shhh…” I pat her bottom in a panic, because I can’t handle even another minute of crying right now, and I snatch up my phone. I swipe and answer it with one hand, and pat, pat, pat, quickly with the other. “Yeah, hello?”

“Ms. Ricardo? Hello, this is Juliette Jones here, how are you?”

I clear my throat and sit up just an inch. I peer around the room in search of a clock. Eight-thirty-nine a.m. “Ms. Jones. Hey, I’m alright, thanks. What’s up?”

“Um.” She clears her throat, as though surprised by my short answer, then she starts shuffling papers. “I’m looking over your file right now, and though I know you’re not my client, baby Lily kind of still is.”

“Okay…”

“So, I was the lawyer who drew up the original adoption papers. The thing is… you’re married.”

Dammit, here it comes. “Yeah…”

“Your husband needs to submit his paperwork too. We need a signature. We need background checks. We need everything, and so far, we have nothing.”

My heart thuds against my chest, and thankfully, Lily lays her head down again and smacks her thick lips. “Ms. Jones… I don’t know how this works… but, can we talk sort of off the record? Is that a thing?”

“Did you break any laws? Put that baby in danger?”

I scoff and shake my head. “No, and no.”

“Then go ahead. I’m all ears.”

“I need advice from a lawyer…”

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