She was so small. So precious. Was this what it would have been like had Scarlett given birth to our little girl? Would she have had Scarlett’s red hair? Tears blocked myvision as the elevator doors opened, and we were rushed into the NICU.
The nurses quickly got her into a room and pushed something into her IV as another lead nurse came in and asked for information on Baby B.
After ten minutes, they pricked her tiny finger again, which sent her wailing. Her chest puckered as she cried. I massaged her tiny toe and told her everything was going to be okay.
They placed a drop of blood on a glucose meter and smiled. “Normal,” he nurse said. “Now, we will check in another half hour,” she told me.
I nodded, relief spreading through my limbs. The nurses left the room, so it was just me and the baby, and I quickly shot Maggie and Ella a text on our group thread.
Seth:Glucose is normal now. She’s healthy. Just monitoring now. Don’t worry.
Ella’s reply was instant.
Ella:Don’t leave her. They won’t let me go up there.
Seth:I will sleep here if I have to.
I promised her.
Then I set the phone down and peered at the sweet face of Ella’s daughter. I wanted to tell her something, something important, something that would matter and help her fight and stay strong.
I massaged her little toe, and then, with my other hand, I reached in and touched her palm. Her fingers clamped around mine, and then she looked right at me, seemingly with sharp clarity, which gave me chills.
“Hey, sweetie. You don’t have a name yet, but I’m yourmom’s friend, Seth. And there are some things I want to tell you.”
She held my gaze.
“Your dad, his name is James. Unfortunately, he can’t be here to meet you.” I started just speaking from my heart. “He’s up in heaven with my wife and my daughter.”
The baby squeezed my finger with surprising strength, and tears pricked my eyes.
“Your mom’s name is Ella, and she loves yousomuch,” I told her. “She’s had a bit of a rough few months, but you and your twin brother have been the one bright light in her life. You also have a sister named Honey, who is a chicken,” I added.
“You’re going to go live in France for a while with your grandma, who is crazy about you,” I told her. “I’m gonna miss seeing you grow in that time, but I hope to get to know you and spend time with you and your brother when you get back.” My voice caught, and slight terror rushed through me as I thought of not being able to watch her grow, of never seeing her again if Ella decided to stay in France forever.
It was hard to explain, but she…felt like mine. Like maybe God wanted me to be in her life and guide her and her brother, too. Maybe it was my own selfish desire, but it felt like more than that.
There was a knock at the door, and I cleared my throat, letting go of her foot to wipe at my eyes.
“We’re going to give her her first bottle and then testher sugars. Do you want to feed her?” the nurse asked as she held out a bottle with the tiniest nipple I’d ever seen.
“I—” Would Ella be okay with that? She was so small. I wasn’t sure if she wanted to breastfeed, but this was an emergency situation. “I’d love to,” I told her.
Five minutes later, she was swaddled into a little burrito and suckling greedily on the bottle as I held her to my chest. These precious few moments with her just solidified the fact that I wanted this. I wanted children. I wanted to be a dad. A protector, a provider. For a while after Scarlett’s death, I hadn’t been sure if I’d ever want any of it again. It was too painful to think about “replacing” them. Because they couldn’t be replaced. But now, I didn’t see it as a replacement. I saw a wife and children as a way to live out my time here on this earth with purpose. That wasn’t everyone’s feeling, but it was mine.
I had a purpose alone, but my life didn’t feel complete without children.
Without Ella,my heart whispered.
Oh, Lord, I was so in love with her. How had I let this happen?
Of all the women to come after Scarlett, I had to fall for one who was emotionally unavailable.
The sweet baby girl cradled in my arms eventually stopped sucking, and then her eyes closed as she fell asleep.
I’d held my nephews when they were born, and I’d loved them the second I met them. But they were family. Now, I felt that familiar love blooming in my chest as I began to sing her a lullaby.
“Jesus Loves Me” had been a staple in my home growing up, so I sang it to her until the nurse came back in and tested her sugars.
