And I need his love.
It feels like an eternity, but it’s probably only ten minutes before I am given some small sips of water and moved to a more comfortable position. My vision is still blurry, but I can see him. The second I see his face, that perfectly handsome face I love so much, I feel a sob bubble out. It hurts—oh it hurts more than I could have fathomed. Not just my screaming ribs, but low on my abdomen, the muscles feel unused and pulled tight.
I see his smile, and even with the tears running silently down his face, that smile never dims. I can tell that he hasn’t slept—his eyes look tired, rimmed red, and swollen. His clothing is wrinkled and stained. He looks . . . terrible, and it’s the most incredible sight I’ve ever seen.
“You look like crap,” I rasp, smiling up at him as he walks over to the side of my bed.
He laughs, although it comes out more like a sob. “You don’t say?”
“Doesn’t your wife iron your clothes?” I joke weakly.
His tears stop, and the fear leaves his eyes.
“No, she likes me better naked.”
The nurse I wasn’t aware was still in the room snickers from where she’s standing while she enters data into the computer connected to the wall.
“Lucky woman, that wife of yours,” I whisper, my voice still gravelly in a painful way, but I feel my smile grow when he dips and moves his face closer to mine.
“I think I’m lucky one, my beautiful wife.” His lips close the distance again, pressing against mine and peppering loving kisses against my lips and face.
He doesn’t make a move to deepen the kiss. He just keeps raining his love across my face.
When he pulls away, he wipes my tears away with his thumbs. I try to move my hand again, but I break eye contact when I feel the solid weight surrounding it. I see the cast just seconds before I notice my very obvious empty belly.
And I’m right back to where I was minutes before.
“Oh, God! Greg . . . Cohen and the babies!” My panic rises again.
“Hey . . . Melissa, calm down. Please. You don’t need to be working yourself up so soon. They’re okay. I promise you. Cohen is with Axel and Izzy. He’ll be back as soon as visiting hours start in the morning. It got too late for him to stay, so they took him home to get some sleep. The girls, both of them . . . They’re okay and close by in the NICU.”
It takes a few seconds for his words to bleed into my panic-fog, but when they do, I fall back against the mattress and pillow and sob.
The tears fall rapidly. I gasp for breath, causing sharp pains to shoot from my ribs and abdomen. And through it all, Greg continues to whisper his love and reassurance.
My children are alive.
Everything is going to be okay.
I’ve got my husband with his arms around me, pouring every ounce of strength he possesses into my body while he kisses my forehead and whispers softly in my ear. My son isn’t hurt and being cared for by people we trust. And my daughters are here, safe and alive!
“I need to see them, Greg. I need to see our babies!” I have no idea if he can understand me, but he nods and promises me that as soon as the doctors allow it he will take me to our girls.
“You wouldn’t believe it, Beauty, but they look just like you. So tiny, but absolutely the most precious and beautiful babies in the world.” He pulls out his phone and holds it so that I can see picture after picture of our daughters. When he gets to one of him holding one of their tiny bodies against his naked chest, his whole hand almost swallowing her small body, I lose it again.
“Hey, they’re okay. This is Lyndsie. She’s had the harder time between the two of them, but every time I’m able to hold her skin to skin, she eats better. She hasn’t been able to suck well, and she has some reflux problems, but she’s doing great, Beauty. I held her earlier for a while just like this. Lillian, oh baby—she is a warrior. The doctors think she’ll go home before Lyndsie because she’s breathing on her own now and eating well. She’s gaining weight quickly. I bet she’s a chunk before we know it.”
I suck up each word he speaks while he flips through hundreds of pictures of our little girls. I can hear the pride in his voice when he speaks about them. I push back the jealousy I feel when he talks about holding them. I need to see my babies, to feel my babies, so I know that they’re okay.
“ . . . so good, Beauty. You did so good.” He drops the hand holding his phone, and I look over to him, smiling when I see the happiness in his eyes. “I was so scared, Melissa. So scared that I would never get this. Every day you slept, I worried more and more. The doctors kept telling us that you would wake up when you were ready, but God . . . I was so scared.”
“How long was I out?” It feels like I just went to sleep hours ago, but the way he speaks, it’s been a lot longer.
“Two weeks. Two long weeks.”