Page 184 of Unspoken Words
“So she is! Good to see you again, Eloise.” Tracy smiled, switched off the alarm, and moved my mask back over my nose and mouth. “Let’s keep this on for now, okay?” She then peered into Christina’s crib and tutted. “Mummy’s machines are a bit noisy, aren’t they? We must keep them quiet if you’re to stay in here a little longer.”
Connor stepped back but kept a close distance. “What was that alarm? Is everything okay?”
Nurse Tracy checked the readings on the machine then unhooked the blood pressure cuff from behind my bed and attached it to my arm. “Just a little bit too much excitement,” she answered, narrowing her gaze on my BP readings.
“I just met my daughter for the first time,” I said, my voice muffled through the mask, my throat dry. “Of course I’m excited.”
“I understand that, dear. But your heart has taken a severe battering, so we need to keep the excitement to a bare minimum.” She looped her stethoscope around her neck and poured me a glass of water. “I’m going to page Dr Webb, and I’m going to need you to take it nice and easy while I’m gone.”
“She will,” Connor reaffirmed.
Continuing to stare at Christina, I didn’t even notice when Tracy left the room. My little princess was so angelic and all-consuming.
“Have you held her yet?”
He sighed. “No.”
“When can we hold her?”
“When it’s safe.”
My lips trembled and my eyes filled with tears.
“It’s okay, baby.” Connor pressed a kiss to my head. “You’ll hold her soon. I promise. You’ve just woken up—”
The door to my room swung open, and Mum, Dad, and Chris entered, Mum pausing mid-step, her coffee cup suspended midway to her mouth. “Oh thank goodness!” She shoved the cup into Chris’s hand then approached my bed and delicately swept my hair away from my face before kissing the pads of her fingers and gently pressing them to my cheek. “How are you feeling?”
I lifted my oxygen mask. “My chest is sore, my throat is dry, and I’m a little short of breath, but other than that, fine.”
“Put that back on,” she scolded, refixing it to my face.
I rolled my eyes then ran my hand along Christina’s plastic crib. “I’m more than fine because look … I have my baby girl!”
“You do, and isn’t she so precious.”
“Just like her mother,” Dad added, leaning down to kiss my head.
When Dad stepped back, Chris moved into his spot and wrapped his big bear arms around my shoulders. “Stop dying on me. It’s mean,” he whispered.
I simultaneously laughed and sobbed. “Think of it as payback for the times you hid your dirty socks in my bed,” I rasped.
Mum turned to Chris. “You hid dirty socks in your sister’s bed?”
“No. She’s lying. Must be all that funny gas she’s breathing in.”
“Christopher Roger Mitch—”
He moved to the other side of my bed. “I’m coming round here where the cool kids are,” he said to his niece.
Connor squatted down next to the crib, and I could see his proud grin through the plastic. “She’s definitely cool. Look at her, growing steadily, sleeping really well, and she’s even breathing on her own too.”
Relief and satisfaction washed over me like a warm, soothing blanket, and I couldn’t help but close my eyes. I had Connor, my daughter, and my family by my side, and it gave me nothing but peace. For the past seven months, all I’d wanted was for Christina to be born healthy. I’d wanted to give her the best start in life, even at the expense of my own, because that was what a mother did; she put her child first. Always.
When I opened my eyes again, Mum, Dad, and Chris were gone, and Dr Webb was hovering over me instead. I turned my head to my side, to see my daughter, but she wasn’t there. Panic shot through my body like a bullet.
“Where is she?” I wrenched the mask off my face and frantically shuffled to sit up.
Dr Webb held me still, his hands firm but gentle. “Ellie, calm down. She’s fine. Her visit time was over. She’s back at NICU.”
