“As you know the baby was under distress and before they could operate on Ms. Bianci we needed to perform an emergency cesarean to deliver the baby,” she paused for a moment.
“Ms. Bianci successfully delivered a baby boy, weighing three pounds, one ounce and I believe fifteen inches in length. I closed and the surgeons took over. I don’t have an update on her status but while I was performing the C-section she was stable and I delivered the baby in under two minutes,” she explained.
“A boy,” I said. “I have a son.”
He was born weighing three pounds, one ounce but his birth caused my heart to weigh a ton. Who knew such a revelation could make my heart feel so full? Not me. Not me at all.
“Is he okay?”
Dr. Meadows stepped up.
“I took over for your son once he was delivered and immediately began working on him. His lungs aren’t fully developed so we needed to place him on a ventilator. He is in the NICU right now, stabilized with the machine breathing for him. We also inserted a feeding tube in him and are carefully monitoring him.”
“But he’s okay? I mean, he’s little and all but he’s going to make it, right Doc?” I asked, unable to recognize my own voice.
“Mr. Bianci is it?”
“No, Montgomery.”
“Mr. Montgomery, your son was born twelve weeks early, aside from Respiratory Distress Syndrome, your son is still very much considered to be in critical condition. We are working to determine if there is an intraventricular hemorrhage, which is a brain bleed. If there is we need to monitor it very closely but they usually dissolve on their own accord. However, there may be lasting side effects that we won’t be able to determine right away.”
“Such as?” I asked, turning to Maria. “Please, listen in case I forget anything,” I pleaded.
She nodded, tears falling down her cheeks as she listened along with me as the doctor explained Pea’s condition and the illnesses he may face.
Cerebral Palsy.
Mental Retardation.
And that was just if he had a brain bleed.
I think.
All I knew was he spoke of things no parent wants to hear.
“Can I see him?” I asked, interrupting him as he went down the list of possible occurrences. Pea wasn’t going to get any of those things. I was sure of it. He was half Lauren and half me. He was his mother’s son and he was a fighter. He’d get through it.
Dr. Meadow’s eyes assessed me before he sighed.
“I’m going to get a nurse to give you some scrubs and get you out of these clothes. The NICU is a very sterile environment. You’ll need to scrub down and then of course you may see your son,” he said, turning toward Maria and Anthony. “The rest of you may see him from the window but at this time we’re only going to allow the father inside the unit.”
Maria nodded, turning to me.
“You tell that little boy he has a lot of people who love him and can’t wait to meet him. You tell him his mommy is the number one person on that list, okay?”
I nodded, pushing down the lump in my throat as I stared at her. I get it now…what family is. It’s the people you laugh with, the people you cry with, the people who stand by your side through the good times and bad. You fight and make up, or maybe you don’t, maybe you go months, sometimes years without speaking but then something happens and it erases all that negative shit that kept you from being family. One circumstance is all it takes to bring a family together. If you’re lucky it’s a birth or a wedding, some warm, fuzzy shit that everyone wants a piece of. Other times, times like now, it’s when everything falls apart and things are so far out of control, they’re so fucked you can’t help but turn to one another for support. It’s times like these when families become stronger.
“We’ll go get you some clothes,” Pipe spoke up. “Anything else you need?”
I reached into my pocket and threw Pipe my keys.
“There’s a bag on my kitchen counter can you bring that too?”
“Aye, of course,” he agreed.
I thanked him, tipped my chin to the rest of them and squeezed Maria’s hand reassuringly before following the doctor through the doors and into the elevator. I was taken to the eighth floor and a nurse handed me a pair of scrubs, pointing to a vacant room and instructed me to change my clothes. I pulled the shirt over my head, laying it flat on the chair and stared at the dried up blood, a nasty mix of red and brown painted the once plain white t-shirt.
Lauren’s face flashed before my eyes.
Choose Pea.
Our son.