Woman on the Edge(7)



“Congratulations, Mommy. Would you like to meet your daughter?” The nurse picked up the baby and laid her on Nicole’s chest, holding her there with a small, steady hand.

Without warning, massive sobs erupted from Nicole, startling the nurse.

“It’s overwhelming, love, I know. She’s perfectly healthy. Six pounds, nine ounces, and twenty-two inches long. And beautiful from head to toe. You’ll be numb for a while and a bit groggy. I’ll take her now, but I’ll bring her to you to breastfeed soon so she gets the colostrum.”

The nurse took the baby back before Nicole was ready. She was processing slowly; everything was happening too fast, and it was hard to make it stop.

“Where are my husband and best friend?” She gazed at her daughter in the nurse’s arms. Her nose was so tiny, and her perfect mouth was a wonder. Nicole tried to control her tears, but she couldn’t. She was a mother. A rush of love, so engulfing, so complete, spread through her entire body until the ferocity of it almost hurt. Then a tide of grief came over her as she remembered holding Amanda with such care so many years ago.

“They’re waiting just outside. You need to recover a little bit more before any visitors can come in.”

Her daughter was so still in the nurse’s arms. Terror climbed up her throat. “She’s breathing, right? Is she breathing?”

The nurse gave her a reassuring look. “She’s breathing just fine.” Nicole felt the tension leave her body. No matter how hard she fought it, she was slipping into sleep. When she next opened her eyes, Greg was sitting on the edge of the bed, with empty arms.

She shot up, her stomach screaming in protest, a burning and pulling. “Where’s the baby?” she cried.

“Careful, Nic. You have to take it easy.” He pointed at the bassinet under the window. “She’s right there, and she’s gorgeous.”

Seeing the tiny figure swaddled in pink slowed her racing heart. She had given birth to a healthy daughter, and despite the frightening surgery, she was a mother. She reached for her husband’s hand. “Do we really have a baby?”

Nicole’s heart melted at the sight of Greg’s awe-filled eyes. “She looks exactly like you. She’s beautiful,” he told her.

She knew when he met their daughter, he’d fall in love.

He let go of her hand and went over to the bassinet, then lifted their baby out and brought her to the bedside. She looked so tiny in his large arms. Nicole laughed out loud because Greg held her so delicately, as if worried he might break her.

“I’m not sure when I last held a baby. She’s so small.”

“Babies are tough,” she said, then wished she could take the words back. She knew better than anyone how fragile they really were.

He laid a kiss on their baby’s forehead, and she felt another flood of affection for her husband. Then he carefully handed her their daughter.

Nicole cradled her newborn, stroking her soft, round head and funny strands of black hair. “She’s ours, Greg.” To her daughter, she whispered, “We’re going to take such good care of you.” Then she looked up. “Where’s Tessa?” She couldn’t wait for her best friend to meet the baby. Hold her. She’d never seen Tessa with a baby before. Auntie Tessa was going to spoil her rotten.

“She went to get you some food from that vegan place you love. She said there was no way you’d eat hospital food.”

Nicole laughed. “She’s right. I just can’t wait for her to meet our little Quinn.”

They’d decided before she was born to name the baby Quinn, Nicole’s mother’s maiden name. Hearing it said out loud brought both joy and sorrow, and she felt the tears well in her eyes. How she wished her mother were sitting beside her, telling Nicole how proud of her she was.

Greg looked perplexed. “Why does the name card on her bassinet say ‘Amanda’?”

Nicole stared at him, sure she’d misheard. “What do you mean?”

“There’s a little card on the side of her bassinet. I like the name Amanda, too. Whatever you want to name her is fine by me.”

She looked over at the bassinet and saw the name card, squinted to read the small type.

Amanda Markham.

No, no, no. How? That name. Why was that name on her baby’s bassinet?

She felt a panic attack coming on. She had to stop it before Greg saw it happen. Now wasn’t the time. This was the most beautiful moment of their marriage. Gratitude, faith, and trust, she repeated silently, inhaling and exhaling, to clear her crown chakra.

“Honey, are you okay?”

She struggled to stay steady. “Take her, please. I think my blood pressure’s a bit low. I feel a little faint.”

Greg put their daughter back in the bassinet and rushed to Nicole’s side. “Nic? What’s going on? Why are you freaking out?”

It had to be a clerical error, just a terrible, cruel, stupid coincidence. After five deep ins and outs, Greg’s face came back into focus.

She wanted her baby back. Wanted to touch her. Feel her breathe. Nicole flung the covers off, pain radiating up her sternum, and tried to move out of the bed. Something pulled at her arm. The IV. “The baby. Please. I need my baby!”

“Honey, it’s okay. I’ll get her. The labor was intense. You’re still really … emotional.” He put their daughter back in her arms, then walked over to the bassinet, where he picked up the name card.

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