Page 180 of Unspoken Words
Her eyes found mine and they filled with tears. “Connor!”
“I’m here.” I took hold of her hand.
She released from my grip and felt for the notebook, picking it up and handing it to me. “It’s for Christina. Make sure she gets it.”
“Wh … what?” I was confused, although I knew deep down what she was saying. “I will. But you can give it to her when she’s older.”
“Okay, Connor. I need you to step back,” Nurse Tracy said as she released the brakes on Ellie’s bed, and with the help of two male nurses, began to wheel her out of the room.
I grasped Ellie’s hand again and kissed it as I shuffled next to her moving bed, my grip broken as we reached the door. Everything was happening so fast, my world all of sudden spinning as the greatest terror I’d ever known slammed me in the chest. This time, I could not only lose the love of my life for good, but I could lose my daughter as well.
“ELLIE!” I went to follow them.
“Connor, you need to stay here.” Nurse Tracy gave a stern but concerned look as they entered a sterile area.
Ellie’s eyes met mine one more time before they fell shut.
“ELLIE! I LOVE YOU. Please. Please don’t leave me.”
Falling to my knees as the doors closed behind them, I cried, helplessly, repeating the words she’d always wanted to hear and, now, may never hear them.
I love you. I love you. I love you.
Chapter Forty-Five
Connor
The NICU was quiet, almostpeaceful, hushed murmuring of nurses and parents harmonising with ventilators and the soft monotone beeping of heart monitors around the room. It was a strangely tranquil atmosphere despite the circumstances surrounding its existence, but maybe that was because babies somehow had the ability to soothe in crisis. They amplified love and perspective and signified hope.
Lightly stroking Christina’s leg, I shuffled my chair closer to her incubator, my hands safe and sterile within the small ports on the side. Her tiny fingers were clasped around my thumb, her sensitive eyes covered with a mask. I wanted to lift it and see if they were as mesmerising as her mother’s, because at five days old, she was definitely a miniature Ellie: strong, resilient, and breathtaking.
A bright blue light illuminated her body, and she looked as if she were in a fishbowl without the water. I moved my hand to her face and ever so gently circled the pad of my finger over the tip of her nose, smiling to myself because I’d been wrong—she definitely had my nose, not Ellie’s.
A small plastic tube protruded from her nostrils, providing a steady stream of oxygen to her lungs. My finger skimmed it; my smile faded. I also grimaced at the intravenous drip inserted into the back of her hand, together with the many miniscule wires attached with tape to various parts of her body.
“Such a brave little angel,” I whispered, stroking her fine, light auburn hair.
The nurses kept telling me that touch was important, that she needed to feel her daddy and hear his voice. So … I talk to her. I tell her how beautiful she is and how much I love her. I tell her that her mummy is still sleeping and when she wakes up, she will come and talk to her too. I tell her how special she is and how she’s the luckiest little girl in the whole wide world to have the bravest and strongest mummy. And I sing, quietly, because everything else I can’t say, she still needs to hear.
“Good afternoon, Connor.”
Looking up, I gave the head midwife a smile as she approached Christina’s incubator crib. “Hi, Melina. My girl is looking even bigger today.”
“There’s a very good reason for that. We measured her this morning and she’s grown nearly two centimetres.”
“Two centimetres, Christina! You little legend.” I pressed my face to the plastic window, desperate to smell her and place just one kiss on her head. “That’s great!”
“It is! I’ve also had a chat to Dr Powell, and we’re happy for Christina to go on a special trip to see her mum today.”
“Wait! What?”
The corners of Nurse Melina’s mouth lifted. “Yes! We can wheel her in the crib to Ellie’s room. It will be good for them both.”
My heart skipped a beat, and I carefully removed my hands from the crib before standing up. “Do you think Christina’s presence might help wake her mother up?”
She shrugged. “It might.”
“Okay. So when can we do this?”
