They deserve to have a normal life, not one full of hospital stays, doctor visits, testing, and clinical trials.
They deserve a daughter that isn’t sick.
“You sure, honey? I can stay.”
“I’m sure, Mom. Go. Spend some time with Dad—maybe watch a movie or something.”
She laughs, “A movie, huh? You know your father would be snoring before the opening credits even started rolling.”
Now it’s my turn to laugh, another thing that feels foreign,“You or Dad?”
She throws her hand up to her chest in fake outrage,“Umm, that would a hundred and ten percent be your father, missy.”
I giggle even more,“Whatever you say.”I push my hands out in a shooing motion,“Now, get out of here, kid. Go have some fun.”
“Who you calling kid? I swear, Millie, sometimes I think you think you’re older than me!”
I smile at the reminder. My parents have always called me an old soul, but I think that maturity has come out of necessity. I never really got a real childhood. I’m an only child that has always been surrounded by adults.
Kind of seems like a given that I would act older than my real age, given the circumstances.
She leans down, this time planting a kiss on my forehead.“I’ll be back later tonight. Get some rest already, will ya?”she teases.
I fake fluttering my eyes closed, giving her a little snore to boot.
“Smartass.”
I poke my tongue out at her, then smile before telling her I love her. She finally goes, leaving me alone for the first time in a week. There’s nothing but the incessantbeep, beep, beepof the machine to keep me company.
Until my eyes catch on a bird that’s flying frantically outside my window. It’s just a plain brown bird with a white chest, ordinary-looking, but it’s the first thing to hold my attention all day.
I watch it flutter and flounder. Its wings are erratic but still somehow perfectly in sync with its little body. Its chest puffs out right before I hear the faintest chirp, followed closely by another and then another.
Soon, thechirp, chirp, chirpof the pretty but ordinary bird helps to drown out thebeep, beep, beepof the machines that have become my constant companion.
It’s nice.
Really nice.
Two years later
“Millie! Millie, baby. Wake up.”
I feel someone touch my forehead, then grab my arm. I blink my eyes open slowly and roll my head to the side to look at whoever decided to interrupt the best sleep I’ve had in weeks.
“Mom?”
“Oh, honey.”Her voice sounds weird, all wobbly like she’s about to cry,“Doctor Richards just called.”
My heart starts to pound in my chest, and I suddenly feel much more alert than I did just a moment ago. I’m scared to ask the question that’s lodged itself at the base of my throat.
“It’s time, baby. They have a heart.”
I make a noise I’ve never heard before, and something between relief and terror fills my chest, making my already weakheart beat even faster. We’ve waited so long for this moment, and now that it’s finally here, I don’t know what to do.
I can see tears streaming down her cheeks. When she smiles, I feel the first surge of hope.“We have to go. They want us there in an hour.”
“Now?”It doesn’t feel like my brain has fully comprehended what she’s telling me.
