“All in good time. Let’s get you stable and then we’ll wheel you down to him. Do we have a photo?” The doctor pissed me off by answering for him.
“I don’t wanna photo. I wanna see my son.” I tried to speak with the mask over my face, but no one listened.
“I have some on my phone,” Liam offered as he shifted to pull his phone out.
Overwhelming panic rose in my chest, and I pulled off the mask delivering oxygen so I could talk.
“No. No. I don’t want pictures, I wanna see my son. Take me to see my baby. Liam, please, I just wanna see him. Please.” I was sobbing and talking through huge gasping breaths…
His eyebrows pinched into a frown so tight it caused lines in his forehead as he looked between the doctor and me. I didn’t know why I noticed this but I did. I concentrated on those lines and tried to calm myself down.
“Can we just wheel the baby down here and let her see him?”
“Well, I’ll have to ask the paediatrician. I’m not entirely sure if that will be possible. Kim, could you find out for me.”
“He’s my baby. You can’t stop me from seeing him. I’ll get up and walk down there if you don’t bring him here.”
“Sarah. Calm down. Kim will get it sorted, but you need to calm down.”
“Of course,” Kim said, offering a smile that was just a bit too tight. “I’m sure it won’t be a problem. Your little man’s a champ. He’s doing just great, Sarah. You calm yourself down, and we’ll set something up.”
The doctor didn’t seem impressed with her response his disapproval twisted his lips into a thin line, making me want to smack him in his smug face. This was all his fault.
“How about a nice cup of tea and some toast in the meantime?”
I shook my. “I don’t want toast. I just wanna see my baby.”
Kim gave me another sympathetic smile. “I’ll have them send something up just in case you get hungry.”
“That’d be great, Kim, thanks,” Liam said before I could turn her down again.
“Well, Kim seems to have everything under control. We’ll keep monitoring that blood pressure of yours since it’s still a bit erratic. If you don’t have any questions, I’ll leave you to it.”
I ignored him. I should have been grateful that he delivered my son safely, but I wasn’t. Instead, I blamed him for doing it all while I was unconscious and without Liam being present.
“We’re good, doc. If we think of anything, we’ll talk to the midwives,” Liam answered when he realised I wasn’t going to.
I changed my mind when the tea and toast arrived and decided that I was starving. We shared the space on my bed and sat and ate quietly.
I felt totally lost and couldn’t seem to get a grip of my emotions. I was a new mother with no baby to hold. I wanted him with me so badly that the ache in my chest was beyond painful, and I felt as if I were fighting every moment not to cry.
The door opened slowly, and Kim put her head in.
“Okay, you two. His blood sugars have come back fine, and we’ve got his temperature up. Once you’ve finished your tea, we’ll pop you into a wheel chair and take you down to see him.”
I swiped away at the fresh tears falling down my cheeks, and a nervous-sounding laugh escaped me as I asked, “Will I be able to hold him?”
“You will, in fact, we’d like you to try to feed him so we can see how he copes with latching on.”
I felt a huge sense of relief settle over me and closed my eyes for a few seconds so I could savour it fully.
Twenty minutes later, my son was in my arms. He was perfect and very hungry and latched on to my breast on the third attempt. It took a few more attempts before he worked out how to breathe, suckle, and swallow, but he finally got it. When he did, I felt euphoric. I’d finally found my place . . . my role in life.
I brushed my fingers over his head full of blond hair and breathed him in.
“I’ve never seen you look more beautiful,” Liam whispered.
“I’ve never felt more beautiful.”
He leant forward, kissed me, and then kissed our son.
***
We finally brought him home eight days later. He was still small, but he was so much bigger than most babies born at his gestation. He wanted to eat all the time, but he would fall asleep so quickly I ended up having to express milk after every feed so that Liam and I could share the load. Switching between the bottle and me confused him at first, but he eventually figured it out.
The day we brought him home, I was a bit worried that we hadn’t picked a name for him yet. We had read list after list online and the titles after every film and television show we watched, but nothing was jumping out at me.
I was sitting curled into the corner of our sofa with a cushion supporting my arm as I held the baby to me for a feed. As usual, Liam watched us with a look of reverence on his face.
“You look exhausted,” I told him quietly.
“I think I’m running on pure adrenaline right now, but I could sit here forever and watch the two of you.”
“We’ll have an early night, I’ll wake up and do the feeds.”
“I don’t mind doing them.”
I shook my head. “I’ll do through the night and sleep in tomorrow.”
“We’ll see.”