“Annie. It’s Annie,” Noah said.
I shot up. “What’s going on?”
His voice broke. I grew frightened.
“Noah, what’s going on?” I demanded.
“S-She’s in the ER. She couldn’t breathe. They’re t-trying to get her to breathe!”
“I’m coming,” I said, hanging up. I turned to Reece, who was already pulling on his shorts. “She can’t breathe, Reece,” I said softly, running to the dresser. I yanked out whatever was on top and threw it on.
“Why can’t she breathe?” he asked, following me into the living room. I snatched my car keys.
“I didn’t ask,” I said, dazed. “I didn’t even ask!”
“It’s okay,” he replied and took my hand.
We said nothing on the car ride to the hospital. There was nothing to say. I had zero details apart from, “They’re trying to get her to breathe.” We raced inside, and my eyes searched frantically for Erica. This was the ER lobby; she would be here. They wouldn’t have let her back in the operation area.
“Erica!” I called above the bustle.
“Come on,” Reece ordered, grabbing my hand. I let him pull me along as I kept screaming Erica’s name.
We found her hovering in a corner near the “Do Not Enter” doors.
“Jesus,” I whispered and ran to her.
“Bailey,” she cried. “My baby!”
“She’s gonna be all right,” I said, hugging Erica hard, feeling her body shudder uncontrollably against my chest.
“She can’t breathe,” Erica said.
“Yes, she can,” I replied. “They’re making her breathe right now.” I clung to the false certainty in my words, believing I could transform it into truth. “Now tell me what happened.”
Erica pulled away and wiped her face. Only then did I notice Noah standing there, grabbing the back of his neck with his hands, looking to the ceiling for an answer.
“Noah?” I said.
He didn’t respond. I swallowed and turned to Erica.
“Where’s Little Noah?”
“At his aunt’s. He spent the night.”
“What happened?”
“Annie got worse. Tonight she started wheezing—like she couldn’t breathe. Noah came home—” Erica paused, unable to talk for the hitching in her chest.
“It’s okay,” I said softly.
“—and noticed something was wrong. How did I miss it, Bailey? How did I not hear it on the baby monitor? It’s the worst sound in the world—your baby wheezing!”
Swelling. It was swelling in the chest. Fluid buildup in the lungs. I researched the flu several years ago when I had a bad case. I was laid up in bed for a week, and because I’m such a control freak, I had to understand every little thing that was happening to my body. In researching, I inadvertently freaked myself out about the rare possibility of dying from swelling and fluid buildup in the lungs.
I shared none of this with Erica then. I certainly said nothing now.
“When was the last time you talked to someone?” I asked.
Erica shook her head. “I don’t know. Maybe fifteen minutes ago?”
I tried to think of more questions to ask. I knew if I kept Erica talking, I could keep her calm. There was no hope for Noah. I watched as Reece tried to comfort him, but Noah was somewhere far away, staring at the ceiling. I don’t know if he was praying to or cursing God.
The doctor emerged, and Erica and Noah ran to him. I wanted answers, too, but Annie wasn’t my child, and her parents needed privacy.
“Please don’t cry, please don’t cry,” I whispered, watching the back of Erica’s head.
Reece put his arm around me. “It’s gonna be okay.”
I wanted to believe him. I watched Erica and Noah nod their heads, and that provided a measure of relief. If something disastrous had happened, Erica would have collapsed on the floor. But she threw her arms around the doctor instead, and that’s when I thought it was safe for us to approach.
“She’s okay!” Erica cried, gripping me in a bear hug. “Oh my God! Thank you. Thank you. Thank you . . .”
I’d never seen Erica cry that hard. Ever. The sweetest, most sincere relief. Like her mentality changed in an instant, going from sarcastic, tired mom to sacred life-giver.
“I love her!” she cried.
“I know,” I whispered.
“So much!”
“I know, Erica.”
“I’d die for her!”
“I know you would.”
“I wouldn’t think twice, B. I’d die for her!”
I held my best friend to my chest, listening to all the ways she would give up her life for her daughter, and my mind flashed back to that afternoon we sat on the couch at Erica’s and she bemoaned her “bad mother” fate.
“Erica you’re the best mother ever,” I whispered in her ear.
She relayed the doctor’s message to Reece and me: Annie had to have an emergency tracheotomy for all the fluid that swelled her lungs. She really couldn’t breathe at all, and the doctor said they were currently monitoring her brain activity to see if any damage took place. Erica didn’t even explore that topic further. She was just happy her baby was breathing.
We stayed with Noah and Erica for hours, waiting for updates and swapping funny stories about Annie. I thought about the randomness of life—how I could go from naked outdoor sex with my brand new fiancé to an ER lobby in a matter of hours. I knew life moments happened that way. They made no sense, and I didn’t think we were supposed to make them. I think we were just supposed to experience them, grow from them, and hopefully come out the other side as better people.
Life is nothing but juxtaposing the good with the bad. We have to learn how to handle both—how to cope with the frightening events and embrace the joyous ones. Or perhaps it’s the other way around. A proposal. A saved life. And love. Lots and lots of love.
***
“Bailey?” my mother said.
I held the phone up to my ear halfheartedly. “Yes?”
“Are you busy today?”
“Yes.”
“Oh.”