“Sam, if there is a child that needs you more than this one does, tell me and I’ll leave you alone.” She glares at me and I glare back.
“No child needs me! No child should be around me right now. I fucked up and I killed a baby! Do you hear me?” I’m screaming and shaking at the same time. She rushes to my side and throws her arms around me.
“Shhh, Sam. Calm down.” Her hands get caught in my tangled curls.
“You can’t ask me to do this,” I plead with her. Tears are freely flowing down my face, and she looks at me with pity. I hate that look. I don’t deserve her pity, or anyone’s, for that matter.
She starts talking over my sobs and I know she won’t stop until I hear her out. I wipe the dampness from my cheeks. I hate feeling sorry for myself. It makes me feel weak and useless. I nod once and she quickly jumps back into her request.
“Kai is a very sick little boy. His mother was addicted to some pretty bad drugs. She died of an apparent overdose, leaving him alone. She has no family at all. Now he’s suffering and about to be discharged to his father, who only just found out about him yesterday. The social worker has done everything within her power to find Kai a stable and loving home, but everything has fallen through. This baby needs you, Sam. Please. I’m begging you.”
Her stern voice turns soft and I see the worry and sadness in her eyes.
“Why are you asking me?” I ask.
“Because you’re the only one who can do it. I’ve seen you with the babies you care for. You save their lives every moment you’re with them. You’re the first line of defense should something go wrong and you help some through their last breaths on this earth.” I suck in a breath and open my mouth to correct her. I want to tell her that she’s wrong. I’m a killer. She ignores me and continues, “You’re the reason why ninety-nine-point-nine percent of the severely sick babies born in your hospital survive. You, Samantha.”
My self-doubt creeps in and more tears flow. “But I’m also the reason why one very special little boy is dead. Don’t you see? I’m not ready for this. I may never be ready for this ever again.”
Her look is stern once more. “Stop. I won’t listen to you talk like this. You’ll come to accept that what happened with baby Ben was an accident. It will take time, but you’ll accept it.” She squeezes my hand and she knows I’m resisting. I don’t want to believe her. I can never accept the damage that I’ve caused. I don’t understand why she doesn’t see that.
“I won’t take no for an answer. You can’t refuse to help this poor baby. You took an oath as a nurse. You can’t turn your back on this child. I won’t let you.”
She’s not going to back down.
“His social worker described what’s wrong with him with some technical term.” She pauses, trying to remember.
“Neonatal Abstinence Syndrome,” I answer for her.
“That’s it,” she says, nodding her head. “So you know all about what it is and how to care for this child.” She baited me and is reeling me in.
“Of course I do.” She knows this already. She’s heard me tell countless stories of babies just like Kai.
“That’s what I thought. So tell me what we need to have on hand. He’s being discharged from the hospital the day after tomorrow.” She pulls out the pocket notebook that she carries with her everywhere. It contains her lists that help her run her daily life.
After I tell her the supplies I’m going to need, I suddenly realize what I’ve committed to and I feel sick.
“I don’t even know your boss, Aunt Peggy. How can you expect me to move in there? This is absurd!”
She started working there when I went to nursing school and we never talk about it. She also does other personal assistant work for several families in our area, and I can never keep straight who she’s working for when.
“His name is Garrett Armstrong and he’s a musician.”
Garrett Armstrong.
Garrett Armstrong.