Page 177 of As The Shifter World Turns

I refused to allow my daughter out of my sight and wouldn’t hand her over so they did the test with me in the bed holding her. Ryder had a hand over my shoulder and the other stifling a sob. Dyani gave a short sharp cry which pierced my heart and set off another flood of tears. And the whole time, our phones were blowing up.

We’d spoken to my parents and our Sunshine Manor family after Dyani was born, and we’d sent pics. But I suspected everyone wanted to come and see us and the baby. Ryder and I ignored the devices until my mate put both phones on mute.

Ryder sat beside me on the bed while we waited for the test results and I did my best to feed her but she wasn’t interested. The words, “What if?” clogged my head but I couldn’t say them. But Dr. Grey said it was easily treated.

When the doctor returned, he was holding a bottle of what looked like formula. “Yes, Dyani is mildly hypoglycemic, so let's try her with formula.”

I burst into tears. “But I want to feed her myself.”

“And you will,” he assured me. “Once her glucose levels are normal.”

But our daughter wouldn’t take the bottle and when I allowed the nurse to take over, she had no more success than I did. Next was a bottle of glucose andwater, but Dyani was less interested and her skin was so pale it was almost see through.

“Ryder,” I sobbed as I felt my daughter’s life force ebbing away.

“No.'' There was steel in his voice and his clenched fists spoke of his internal turmoil. “She’s going to be fine.”

The doctor was back.

Dyani,my wolf yelped, wanting to help our little one.

“She won’t feed and she’s listless and pale. What do we do? This is the twenty-first century. We must be able to do something.”

“We can. We’re going to give Dyani glucose through an IV.” He glanced at the nurse. “And we’ll do this in the NICU. She may only need the IV overnight until the levels have stabilized or it could be 72 hours.”

“I won’t let you take her.” I rested my chin on her head and was certain the doctor could see my beast in my eyes.

“We have to be with her,” Ryder insisted. “She needs us.”

“I agree,” the doctor told us. “She needs both of you there with her.”

This was one battle we didn’t have to fight.

Though the phones were muted, mine was vibrating and Ryder grabbed it as it headed for the edge of the nightstand. “It’s Archer.”

“Tell him what’s happening and we’ll call when we can.”

My mate’s low murmurs punctuated the silence in the room as I was helped into a wheelchair. This wasn’t how I expected our post-birth experience to be.

74

NOT HOW I THOUGHT IT WOULD BE—NOT AT ALL

Ryder

When I thought about how things would go with the birth of our child I had this vision of my strong brave mate telling me it was time to go to the hospital. We’d be calm, driving carefully and when we arrived, Ivor would give a huge push and we’d have a perfectly healthy baby half an hour later. Everything was sunshine and roses in my imagination. Maybe I watched too much television. No, I definitely did.

And even though the birth was different than I’d planned, that wasn’t what caught me so off guard. It was our dear sweet perfect child being whisked away to the NICU. There was nothing as heart-wrenching or as scary as watching your child being removed from your arms and being told the doctors and nurses were doing their best.

Did I appreciate the doctor telling us we could be with Dyani? Absolutely. But what he failed to tell us was that while he agreed he needed both of us, he left off the part where he meant I could go with the baby to the NICU and Ivor’s “job” was to gain strength and pump to get his supply coming in.

My mate had come with us initially. He was taken in a wheelchair. But after familiarizing himself with the NICU and meeting the staff, he was taken back to the room sobbing and begged me to watch over our newborn daughter.

I hated it, being torn between making sure my mate was okay, keeping him up to date on our daughter, and being with our sweet girl. She was doing well. Or so the doctors kept telling us. At least she got to stay in my arms. Seeing all the babies who couldn’t be off machines washeartbreaking for me. The noise of beeping was embedded in my brain forever but it was encouraging seeing how dedicated the staff were.

The second day Ivor was able to join me. He looked so frail and frazzled. How they expected him to sleep and “regain his strength” when he was separated from our daughter was beyond me.

“How is she today?” he asked the nurse as he came in, still in his hospital gown and sporting his hospital bracelet. He almost tripped in his haste to catch a glimpse of Dyani, and I tucked my arm in his because he was unsteady on his feet.

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