Chapter 19
In the morning light Isabella’s hair glistened with a light coating of sweat. She had a fitful night, tossing and turning until a nurse came with sleeping medication. Her head was turned to the left, the sun casting brilliant rays of golden light upon her. Gary gently caressed the side of her face with the back of his hand, moving stray hairs. He lowered his lips to kiss away the pain and exertion from yesterday, lowering his hands to her stomach. Once hard, protecting their future children, her abdomen was now soft and pudgy.
She’s so beautiful. I wonder where her dreams take her, far away from today, or so close to the happenings of yesterday that they haunt her. To watch her sleep is like watching an angel lay down to rest her wings. Hopefully she feels well enough to see the little angels we have created, a little piece of her, a little piece of me.
Isabella’s vibrant blue eyes fluttered open as she lifted her head from her pillow, meeting Gary’s lips with her own for a good morning kiss. “How do you feel?” Gary asked, sitting back in his chair.
“Hum, groggy… and in a little pain. How long have you been awake?” Isabella rose the head of the bed up.
“Not too long.” He smiled, folding his hands together in his lap.
Soon a nurse in light pink scrubs walked in to check on Isabella, and although she was still in some pain she could go to see her babies in the N-ICU; if she was up to it, and she definitely was. Gary helped her up and slowly walked with her to the wheelchair the nurse had brought in. Isabella gripped the arm rests and gradually lowered herself into the chair, wincing at a few aches and pains. Gary wheeled her down to the Newborn Intensive Care Unit.
“Hi, I’m Betty; I’m the nurse that has been taking care of your children, and I’ll continue to do so until they are healthy enough to go home. Jonathan seems to be doing exceptionally well. He’s still hooked up to an IV, but that’s just for precaution. He can breathe on his own, and once he gains about two more pounds he’ll be able to go home. Jessica is still hooked up to the feeding tubes and an IV. She needs an oxygen hood to breathe, and she still only weighs a little over three pounds.” Betty leads them into the N-ICU while explaining all of this.
Two tiny incubators laid next to each other. Machines beeped and intravenous drips filled Isabella’s ears, so she couldn’t concentrate while Betty explained the correct way to handle each child and their incubator. Betty walked away as tears filled Isabella’s eyes.
Look at my babies, my poor babies, they’re so small… helpless. Tears trickled down her face as Gary leaned down and engulfed her in his arms. Her body was lax against him, not wanting the touch of his embrace. Her stiffness pushed Gary away as she inched herself towards Jessica’s incubator.
Isabella put her hand through the hole in the incubator that was attached to a glove. She slowly traced the outline of Jessica’s small, fragile body with her index finger, silent sobs escaped her. Her heart was breaking into tiny pieces, shattering her thought process. She couldn’t move; she couldn’t breath. To function was an unbearable task. I want to help her. I need to help her. She’s my daughter! She has to be okay. She has to come home. We have to be a family. Isabella’s silent sobs erupted as she withdrew her hand and furiously wiped the tears from her eyes. I need her.
“Baby,… She’s going to be just fine. She’s strong just like you.” I can see it in her eyes, she wants to live; Gary had wanted to say, but the lump in his throat threatened his own flood of salty tears.
Watching Jessica’s chest go up and down, struggling with each little breath, Isabella said, “Don’t promise me something you aren’t certain of.”
The venom and sting of her words left Gary wounded, unconfident. So, as she rested her hand back into the rough, latex glove and slowly rubbed Jessica’s tiny tummy with her index finger, Gary brought a chair close to Jonathan’s incubator and sat down.
Betty came by to see how they were doing, “Would you like to hold him?”
“Yes, please,” Gary replied, as Betty laid Jonathan into Gary’s strong, protective arms. My God, you’re so small, a mini me. A smile broke across Gary’s face as he softly touched the peach fuzz that had grown all over Jonathan’s head.
Gary tucked his pinky finger into Jonathan’s miniature fist. He stirred a moment slowly opening his eyes, looking directly into his father’s soul finding love and adoration. Gary’s heart swelled with pride and love. He felt as though he would burst from all of the emotions swirling into him. He placed his lips firmly against Jonathan’s forehead whispering sweet nothings.
Just on the other side of the incubator Isabella was struggling to keep her composure. This was all new to her, this kind of love, hurt. She was breaking. I can’t look into this baby’s eyes and believe that everything’s going to be ok because they’re filled with hurt and pain. She’s hurting so bad, and I can’t do one damn thing about it. I’m so angry! God… I’m so angry at you! She’s just a baby; why would you hurt her? Isabella gently tucked her finger into Jessica’s curled, ball of a fist.
Isabella felt insecure and helpless. When they were inside her womb she was the one taking care of them and protecting them; now she had to trust doctors, nurses, Gary to do the job that was only hers before. The twins had only depended on her for the survival for the last eight months. The communication Isabella and the twins held was something only they had shared, little kicks here, head nudges there. Now that they were out of her womb she had to share them with the world, the big scary world.
Breaking the long silence Gary voiced, “They’re beautiful.”
) The love of Gary and Isabella is so great and so very realistic, I love it. You did a wonderful job of building up the emotions and the scene.
Right now I am very curious to know what is going to happen soon now and how things are going to change. Is Jessica going to live or what? And I don't think it would be the latter as people nowadays have a thing for happy endings. They even used to have it earlier.