Page 2 of Holiday Haven

Adam stepped closer. The baby was dressed from head to toe in a bright pink sleeper. Unless the color was some sort of bizarre joke, he assumed the baby was a girl. He gauged her to be six-weeks-old, her tiny face scrunched and red from crying.

A folded slip of was tucked between the baby and the car seat cushion. Fearing the worst, he pulled it out and read the words, carefully printed.I'm sorry but I can't take care of Joy anymore. I love her, but I can’t afford to keep her. I brought her here because she's been running a fever for the past two days.

Abandoned? Someone had actually left a safe haven baby in his waiting room?

“There's no sign of a parent anywhere—I even checked the men's room!” Doris planted her hands on her hips. “I can’t believe this.”

Adam handed her the note. “You're sure you didn't see anyone drop her off?”

“I’m positive. You know how busy we were. After putting the last patient into an exam room, I spent the rest of the time getting caught up my computer work. I didn't see or hear anyone come in.” Her eyes widened when she read the note. “I can't believe it! We've never had a safe haven baby like this. Who would give up their child three weeks before Christmas?”

The baby's crying, which didn't quite sound right, grated on his nerves. He had a new appreciation for why Grady's mother had appeared so frazzled. “Pick her up, will you? Bring her back to one the exam rooms. I'll need to assess her.”

Doris was already working the buckle on the car seat. The minute Doris lifted the baby against her shoulder, Joy quieted down. “Oh, my, she really is warm.”

Adam grabbed the car seat. It sounded like the baby's mother was right about the child's fever. “Take her into the first exam room.”

Doris carefully set the baby girl on the exam table. “Do you think she's hungry?”

“Yes. Go ahead and make a bottle from the samples of formula. We don't know when she was last fed. Sounds like the mother has been in a financial crunch.” Thankfully he always carried a sizeable stockpile of extra supplies in case of emergencies.

Like this.

Doris hustled off, leaving him to carefully remove the bright pink sleeper. Doris was right—the baby radiated heat from her tiny body. When he checked her temperature, he wasn't surprised to discover her fever was high, 103.4 degrees Fahrenheit.

Joy's sound had a barking sound to it. He listened to her lungs not surprised to hear diminished breath sounds. Could the baby have RSV—respiratory syncytial virus? He needed to do more tests, cultures and maybe an X-ray of her chest. This baby needed more care than he could provide here, in his clinic.

Even taking Joy to the hospital, though, wouldn't necessarily help him provide a firm diagnosis. He didn't have a caregiver to give him a complete history. How well was she eating? How long had she had this barking cry? How many hours did she sleep at a time? Too many questions without answers.

“I have a bottle,” Doris said, entering the room. “I hope she'll take it.”

He hoped so, too. There was no way of knowing if Joy’s mother had breastfed her, bottle fed her, or used a special soy based formula. All he could do is hope for the best through trial and error.

Once he had finished his exam, he bundled Joy back into her pink sleeper, fumbling a bit with the snaps. He intended to hand the baby straight over to Doris, she was more of an expert in this area than he was, but the moment he lifted Joy against his chest, she quieted down.

Awestruck, he stared down at her for a long moment. She was beautiful, her dainty features perfect. Tearing his gaze from her tiny face, he forced himself to think like a doctor. Joy's weight was slightly on the low side for six-weeks-old, and reinforcing the mother likely couldn't afford to feed the child. Breast milk was free, but some women struggled to make that work.

“Do you want me to try and feed her?” Doris asked still holding the bottle.

“Yes, please.” Oddly reluctant, he handed the baby over, knowing he should use this time to finish documenting the incident. He'd never had a safe haven baby left in his clinic before. Technically, safe haven babies were to be left at hospitals, police stations or fire stations.

Did a clinic count? He wasn’t sure.

The baby latched onto the nipple for a few minutes, sucking eagerly. But she didn't take nearly as much nourishment as he would have liked. Too soon she let go and turned her face away.

“Now what?” Doris wrinkled her forehead and concern. “She didn't drink very much.”

“I'll take her to Children's Memorial Hospital as a direct admission. Her fever needs attention.” He didn’t see an alternative. He couldn’t do a complete work up here, his clinic wasn’t equipped with a full lab or radiology services. Joy's ears had looked clear, but he wanted blood and spinal fluid cultures. “Please get the baby tucked back into the car seat.”

While Doris did as he asked, he grabbed his coat. Winter in Milwaukee, Wisconsin, was cold. He searched through his cabinets to find a baby blanket, tossing it over the car seat to protect Joy’s face from the frigid temperatures.

Joy began to cry again, the sound only partially muffled by the blanket. He forced himself to ignore the pathetic sound as he hefted the infant seat in one hand and headed for the door.

“Wait—don't you think we should call the police?” Doris followed him through the clinic and out to the waiting room. She looked concerned, as if she wanted to follow him all the way to the hospital. It was on the tip of his tongue to ask her to come along with him, but that was ridiculous. There was nothing Doris could do.

“I'm not sure we can, mothers of safe haven babies are not considered criminals.” He hesitated, then added, “I’ll check with my brother, Alec. He’s a sergeant for the Milwaukee Police Department. He might have some advice. Go home, Doris. Thanks for your help.”

Ducking his head against the cold December wind, his feet crunched on snow and ice as he carefully made his way to his car.

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