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Chapter 174

Two courses of chemotherapy, a bone marrow transplant, cataract surgery, a broken arm, needles in her arms, her thighs, her hips, her belly, and her spine…

All of that, and this was the worst pain of Claire’s life.

She awoke with the sensation that her belly was on fire. It was so strong that, at first, it dominated all of her thoughts. Her mind felt cloudy, and only when she could get a grip on the pain and focus did she remember where she was and why.

It all came back to her in a stunning typhoon: the labor, the C-section, the birth of her babies. Two girls. One had come out crying; the other had not. She remembered the first baby’s cry vividly. But that was all she knew. She hadn’t seen either baby, and her memory went dark with the birth of the second.

What had happened?? Where were they?? Where was Nick?

She looked around and began to panic when she found herself in a hospital room all alone, no one in sight. She needed answers, and she needed pain meds. Fumbling for the nurse call button that she knew must be somewhere nearby, she found that her arm felt like concrete, so heavy she could barely lift it. Frustration quickly accompanied her franticness, and tears started.

She hated crying, but she was helpless to stop the rush of tears, driven by the raging hormones and frenzied emotions of giving birth and not knowing where her babies were.

How long she lay there crying, she wasn’t sure, but suddenly, her mother was there by her bedside, holding her hand, rubbing her shoulder, whispering the soothing words only a mother could offer. “Shh, sweetie, it’ll be alright,” she murmured. “What’s the matter, baby? Are you hurting?”

Claire nodded, but when she opened her mouth, all that came out was, “Where are my babies?”

“They’re both in the NICU. No one has let us see them yet, but we talked to your nurse, and she said they’re both doing alright. Let me hit your call button, and we’ll get someone in here to talk to you.”

“I can’t even move, I’m so tired,” mumbled Claire. “And it hurts…”

“I know. I know, honey. Your body’s been through a lot.”

“What happened?” she asked. “I don’t remember much after the babies came out.”

“The nurse said there was some bleeding. The C-section took longer than they expected, and they had to knock you out. But it’s okay now. They got everything under control, and your brother and Nick both donated blood.”

“Nick did?” The thought made her smile. “He was with me through the whole thing. He’s amazing…”

Her mother smiled too. “He cares a lot about you. He’s still here.”

“He is?”

“Uh-huh. I’m sure he’d like to come in and see you when you’re up for it.”

Claire nodded. “I just want to see the twins,” she said.

“I know, honey.”

“Have you talked to Jamie?”

“Your dad did. He knows that he has two daughters and that you’re okay, but as soon as you’re feeling better, you should call him. He’d rather hear from you.”

“I will… in awhile.” She was just so tired right now.

Footsteps in the room attracted her attention, and she moved her head so that she could see who was coming in. It was her nurse, Aidyn, who smiled gently. “How are you feeling, Claire?” she asked.

“Honestly, awful,” mumbled Claire. “Can I have some pain meds?”

“Of course.” Aidyn injected her IV line with something and then said, reassuringly, “It’s normal to feel some pain after a C-section; people seem to forget it’s a major abdominal surgery. But we’ll get you up and moving later on today, and you’ll be on the road to recovery.”

Getting up and moving was the last thing Claire felt like doing at the moment, but she couldn’t help but ask, “When can I see my babies? I still haven’t seen them yet. I need to see them… and name them…”

“I know.” Aidyn patted her hand gently. “It’s complicated in your situation because we can’t bring the girls to you. Right now they’re in incubators in the NICU, and they need to stay there. They’re both on ventilators to help their breathing, which is very normal for preemies this young, but because of that, we can’t move them. You’ll have to go to them.”

“Can I go then?” She didn’t have a clue how she’d get there, seeing as she could barely lift her hand, let alone haul her body out of bed. But the urge in her was so strong, she didn’t care. Somehow, she would get there. Her stubborn streak had flared, and she was determined.

“Your body really needs time to rest and heal itself right now. Try and get some sleep, and I promise I’ll take you to the NICU first thing in the morning.”

“No, please,” Claire begged. “I won’t be able to sleep until I see them, not unless you knock me out again, and I don’t want you to do that. I need to see my babies. Please.”

Aidyn must have been used to the power of maternal instinct, because it didn’t take much protesting to get her to agree. “Alright,” she relented, “we can wheel your bed into the NICU for a few minutes, if you’re feeling up to it.”

“Please, yes. I’m up for it.” She was starting to feel better already, less groggy and in less pain, although she did have the loopy sensation of floating one got from heavy pain medication. But the determination to see her babies was keeping her coherent and focused.

“All right. Let me find an orderly to help me move the bed, and we’ll go to NICU,” Aidyn promised.

When she left, Claire’s mother squeezed her hand and smiled. Claire returned the smile. “Will you come with me to see them?” she asked.

“You know I would love to,” her mother beamed, delighted that she had offered. “After all, they’re my granddaughters. I can’t wait to lay my eyes on them.”

The anticipation looming, Claire inhaled slowly and exhaled, releasing an anxious sigh. “Neither can I.”

***

Claire could scarcely breathe as they wheeled her bed gently through the doors marked NICU. Her heart had lodged in her throat, and her breath seemed trapped in her chest, making it tight with bottled anticipation. She felt as if she would burst any second.

Her head was almost too heavy to lift, yet when she did, she felt light-headed, so she tried to get a good look at the incubators that slowly passed by from her pillow. Which ones held her babies? It was sad to think she wouldn’t recognize them, but she hadn’t even seen them yet, not once.

But when she got within a few feet of the two incubators, even before the bed slowed to a stop, even before she saw the nametags that read Turner, Baby Girl A and Turner, Baby Girl B, she knew. Call it maternal instinct, but she knew that these were her newborns.

“Claire, meet your daughters,” Aidyn said sweetly as she parked the hospital bed between the pair of incubators and raised the head a bit more so that she could see inside them better.

Claire took in a shaky breath as she peered into one of the incubators. Inside was a baby so small, she could hardly believe it. But this was her daughter, one of the creatures who had been growing inside of her for the last seven months. It was the first time she had seen her in living color, and Claire relished in it, hardly blinking as she took in every detail. Her daughter’s skin was not baby pink, but red and wrinkled and covered with a soft, downy layer of hair. A pale pink stocking cap covered her tiny head. Her eyes were closed, her mouth and nose hidden behind the hose of the ventilator. Her limbs were exposed, and Claire couldn’t believe how skinny they were. Her arm was the size of Claire’s index finger, her tiny hand hardly bigger than Claire’s thumb. And yet, even in its smallness, there was perfection – five little fingers on each hand, five round little toes on each foot. The sight made her eyes well up with tears.

It was with blurred vision that she turned painfully to the other incubator and looked inside. Blinking her tears away, she found herself gazing at an almost identical sight. Her second-born was just as tiny, if not more so, and looked no different than her twin – just as red and wrinkled and scrawny, and just as beautiful. Wishing she could hold them both in her arms right now, Claire settled for kissing her own fingertips and pressing them against the plastic barrier of each incubator in turn.

“They’re beautiful,” her mother finally spoke up, sounding tearful. “Two little miracles.”

And Claire nodded, remembering all that she had been through to have them. These two little girls had been a work in progress for six years, ever since she’d had the procedure to preserve the eggs from which they were conceived. The odds had been against them through it all – the in-vitro fertilization, the selective reduction, her complicated pregnancy and premature labor. But here they were. Too small, too young, but alive nonetheless, both of them. They were miracles.

“Are you ready to name them yet?” her mother asked next. “I don’t want my granddaughters to be referred to as ‘Baby A’ and ‘Baby B’ Turner.”

Claire smiled, her mind again conjuring up the names she and Jamie had chosen weeks ago. “Yes. This is Caitlin,” she said, touching the incubator that held her firstborn, formerly ‘Baby A.’ “Caitlin Patrice… for Jamie’s dad.”

Her mother nodded, a smile gracing her lips.

“And this,” continued Claire, reaching out to the second incubator, the one in which her second baby slept, “is Delaine. Delaine Ryann.”

Her mother’s smile grew. “Your dad will appreciate that.”

Claire smiled too. “We wanted them to represent both sides of their family,” she murmured. And all of a sudden, the rush of longing came, as she thought back to the late-night talks she’d shared with Jamie, laying in bed with his head on her belly, feeling the babies kick and dreaming of the future. “I wish Jamie was here…”

Her mother pursed her lips tightly and nodded, taking her hand. “I know. But he will be. Caitlin and Delaine just had poor timing.”

Claire smiled sadly, looking between the two infants. Poor timing indeed. With their being so young, the deck was still stacked against it. She only hoped they were strong enough to overcome all of the odds.

***