A Holland and a Fighter Read online

  “Will, I need you over here in five minutes. No, four minutes.” That’s all he says to him. I know Will will be here in three.

  It feels like an eternity, but the EMTs and Will all show up at the same time.

  There are three strangers next to me, but it’s quiet as I lie in bed, as I feel them poking and prodding; all I hear is the pulse in my ear that doesn’t quiet, doesn’t slow. They finally move me to a stretcher and take me down the elevator to the first level of our apartment.

  “If the girls wake up, don’t tell them what happened. Just tell them we went out for a while. I’m sure we’ll be back in a few hours,” Jon says to his brother.

  “It’s okay, Liv,” Will says right next to my ear, kissing my forehead before we leave the apartment.

  But is it? When I can’t calm down?

  In the ambulance, Jon sits next to my head and constantly strokes the hair away from my face. His eyes never leave mine. He looks strong. He looks assuring. He looks confident. He shows no fear.

  I want to feel all of those things.

  Panic. All I feel is panic.

  “Baby, did you have a nightmare? Are you worrying about something?”

  I nod my head rapidly.

  “Don’t worry about anything. You’re in good hands, right?” he asks the two attendants with us.

  “Great hands, Mrs. Scott. You’re doing fine. Just hang in there.”

  I see a flash of what I’m feeling cross Jon’s face as he looks at the EMT who said that. Hang in there. That gave him reason to worry, too. But just as soon as that flash came, it’s gone, and his façade of strength is back. “I’ve got you, baby. I’m right here.” He starts rubbing my wrist. I feel it this time. That must mean I’m calming down. It must mean that.

  I sigh, but it still feels shallow. I’d expected more relief. A deeper breath. It wasn’t.

  In the hospital, they separate me from Jon, and I start to cry. I want him here. The panic’s worse.

  “Where is he?”

  “He’s in the waiting room, Mrs. Scott. I’m Dr. Irving. Can you tell me how you feel?”

  “I can’t calm down. I have high blood pressure. I’m scared for the baby. Am I hurting him?”

  “Well, that’s why we need you to calm down.”

  “I can’t calm down!”

  “We’re going to give you an injection to help, Livvy. Can I call you Livvy?”

  “Will it hurt my baby?”

  “There are very low risks for him. The risks are much greater for both of you if we don’t do it.”

  “Then just do it. Do it now!” I cry. “And bring Jon back!”

  “Go get her husband,” the doctor says. “And we’re implementing the dose right now.”

  “Okay.” As I wait, I get to listen to not only the thumping in my ears, but the stereo effect of the monitors I’m hooked up to. It’s driving me crazy. “Can you turn down that noise, please? I can’t stand it.”

  “Just a tad,” the doctor tells a nurse. “Livvy, we need to be able to hear subtle changes.”

  “Baby, I’m right here.” I look over and see Jon, standing two feet behind the doctor.

  “Is it getting better?” I ask. “Shouldn’t it be slowing down?” I’ve memorized the rhythm in my head, and nothing has changed.

  “Livvy, can you close your eyes?” The doctor turns to Jon. “Help her out.”

  “Baby, try to close your eyes and take some deep breaths. Let’s pretend this is Lamaze, okay? You remember how to breathe, right?”

  “I can’t do that,” I tell him, choking on my tears.

  “Okay, okay,” he says, caressing my face. “No need to get frustrated. Just breathe with me.” He matches my quick breaths, but then tries to slow them down. I can’t stay in concert with him.

  “I can’t do it. What is that other beeping sound?” I ask, finally tuning in to another noise.

  “Livvy, that’s your baby’s heartbeat, and he’s in distress. We’re going to need to deliver him now to help him out.”

  “No!” I yell. “It’s too early for him. No!”

  “Baby, calm down,” Jon says, his eyes watering.

  “It’s best for both of you,” the doctor says. “I think the hydralazine will work better on you once he’s on his own, and I think he’ll be much less stressed, too. Please.” Dr. Irving looks at both of us.

  “Olivia, what did you just tell me just the other day? He’s 32 weeks. Or, now, he’s 33. He’s viable. He’ll be small, but he’s very viable. Look at Trey, right? He was born early and look at him now!”

  “We need a decision,” the doctor interrupts.

  I shake my head, feeling weak.

  “Trey is six-foot-four now and healthy and strong and in fucking law school. Why? Because he’s a fighter! Right, baby?”

  I nod. “Okay.” I squeeze his hand and look at the doctor. “Okay.”

  “Hollands are fighters!” Jon says with a smile, nodding, as if he’s trying to make sure I heard him.

  I shake my head at him as they begin to wheel me toward the exit.

  He stops the gurney to kiss me, and I exhale deeply as he embraces me, whispering my response into his ear. “I’m not.”

  Chapter 13

  PART II | JON

  Dumbfounded, I stand still as I watch them wheel her away from me. “You are,” I mumble. Someone nudges me in the back, pushing me forward hurriedly. I get to go with her. “You are!” I call after her, even though she’s twenty feet ahead of me by now.

  They take her in a freight elevator, but another nurse accompanies me to a standard one next to it.

  “Are we going to the same place?”

  “Labor and Delivery, yes.”

  I hear her in my head again as we ride silently up to the seventh floor. I’m not. I don’t even know what she meant. Not a fighter? Not a Holland? Why would she say either?

  When we get to the floor, they’re already pushing her through two secure doors. The woman I was with rushes to follow them. “You’ll take good care of them, right?” I call after her. “Um,” I say, desperate to make sure she gets the attention I need her to have, “her father’s given so much to this hospital they named the pediatric unit after him.”

  “We know who she is, Mr. Scott,” she says, friendly and assuring. “We take care of all of our patients. Just let the doctors do what they’re best at. Your wife and baby will be fine.”

  “Okay,” I say, nodding, looking around the room, finally seeing other people there. “I just… wait here?”

  “Have a seat and we’ll be out to report on their condition as soon as possible.”

  “Thank you. Just… so much, thank you.” I watch her disappear behind the doors.

  Did I tell Livvy I love her? Did I reassure her enough?

  I walk quickly to the doors and try to pull the handle to deliver the message, but they’re locked. The windows are covered, and I can’t hear a thing happening behind them, either.

  I turn to my side and lean my head against the wall, letting out a heavy sigh.

  I’m not. She sounded scared when she said it, but she’d sounded scared since she woke me up. Of course, she’s scared. She couldn’t calm herself. She worked herself up somehow, and that’s how we ended up here in the hospital tonight.

  And they’re going to deliver the baby.

  “Holy shit,” I say aloud, just now coming to grips with this reality. “My baby’s coming.” I face the room and announce it to the ten people waiting with me. “My baby’s coming!”

  “Congratulations,” a few say, while a couple others laugh.

  “He’s early.” I smile but feel a lump in my throat. “But he’s gonna be okay.” I put it out into the world to make it happen.

  “Of course, he is,” an older woman says, standing up and walking over to me. She takes my hand. “Why don’t you come have a seat?”

  “Yeah.” I nod my head. “Yeah,” I respond again, sitting down next to her and staring at some vast nothingness ac
ross the room. We haven’t even finished the nursery. I don’t even think we have diapers at home. She hasn’t had her shower yet. He has a place to sleep. I’m comforted by the image of the bassinet. He’ll have a place to sleep. I’ll move it to our bedroom as soon as we get back home. I’ll see if Emi can go get diapers and wipes– “Shit! I need to call her parents!”

  “I was just going to ask if you had someone to call,” the lady says.

  I must look like hell in my Columbia hat and glasses, because no one in the waiting room has openly acknowledged who I am, and that rarely happens. I didn’t take the time to put in my contacts, and I don’t often go out in public with my glasses.

  I go to the far corner of the room and dial Jack’s home number. It’s the one I know to call for emergencies. He always answers that line.

  He clears his throat first. “This is Jack.”

  “Hey, Granddaddy, the baby’s coming.”

  “What?”

  “The baby’s coming early. We’re at the hospital. Livvy said she couldn’t calm down and she had a spike in her blood pressure–”

  “Is she okay?”

  “They’re getting it under control. They said the medicine would work better once the baby wasn’t in distress.”

  “He’s in distress?”

  “I’m screwing up this call. They said everything was okay. They just had to deliver him tonight. That it was what was best for both of them.”

  “We’re on our way,” he says, and promptly hangs up.

  “Shiiiiit. Shit shit shit.” I take a deep breath, not meaning to worry him like I did. Or maybe I should be more worried? But the nurse assured me they’d be fine. Jack was definitely worried, though. I have to calm down. This is what got us here in the first place. We can’t both be nervous wrecks. They said she’d be okay, and I have to calm down.

  While I’m waiting, I fill out the requisite paperwork and get tagged with a bracelet that identifies me as Baby Scott’s father. It’s really happening, and I can’t imagine how anyone would expect me to calm down. It was different with the girls. They came when they were supposed to–not out of the blue in the dark of the night, six weeks early.

  I haven’t heard anything by the time Jack and Emi show up, but we only have about two minutes together before a team of nurses comes out of the secured area pushing a baby in an incubator. I see SCOTT labeled on the front of it.

  “That’s my baby,” I say, walking up to them. “Is he okay? Where are you taking him?” I see a glimpse of him, tubes coming out of his tiny, red body. “Is he okay?” Jack and Emi are right beside me. The three of us stop their progress.

  “Yes, Mr. Scott. It’s a boy. He’s small, but he’s doing well. Four pounds, 2 ounces, and he’s 18 inches long.”

  “He’s so little. That’s really small, right?” Jack asks.

  “Shouldn’t you cover him up?” Emi asks.

  “He’s small, but average size for a preterm baby. And we’re going to find a nice, warm place for him right now, Mrs. Holland.”

  “And how’s Livvy?” I ask.

  “They’re suturing her now.”

  They start to walk again, but I just met my son, and I don’t want them to take him yet. “Where are you going?”

  “To the private NICU, down the hall.”

  I look back at Jack and Emi, who wave me off to go with the nurses. “Let me know the second I can go to see Liv!” I call to them, running to catch up to my son.

  “Did she do okay?” I ask them. “Was she awake for it? We’ve never done a cesarean before.”

  “She was. She was sort of in and out of consciousness, though. Maybe a side effect of the medicine they injected beforehand.”

  “That’s normal?”

  “Well, emergency C-sections are never the norm, Mr. Scott.”

  “Did she get to see him?”

  They stop me at the door. “You can wait out here and watch through the window for now.”

  “I can’t… hold him… or anything?”

  “Not at this time, no, but soon. You’ll be needed very soon.”

  I smile and watch them through the glass as they carefully transfer him to a large, somewhat enclosed bed. It has holes on each side for arms. I can’t wait to feel his little hands and feet. To count his fingers and toes. They don’t cover him up, though. I wonder if it’s a safety issue or what. I just keep thinking how cold I feel right now; he must be freezing.

  And just as I think that, another chill comes over me that makes me shiver. It lasts for a good ten seconds. The strangest feeling. It’s unnerving. So much so I look harder at the monitor to make sure everything appears normal. When I realize I don’t know, I knock on the window to get the attention of a nurse.

  “Is he okay?”

  “He’s good. He’s in a warmer; his body temperature is already rising.”

  “I don’t mean to be impatient, but… how long do I have to wait? I just want to touch him. I want him to know his daddy’s here.”

  A different nurse comes up behind the first and signals for me to walk to the other end of the hallway to a separate door, leading to a side room. She meets me there.

  “I need you to disinfect. Leave the bracelet on, but wash your hands, your arms, your face and neck.”

  “Anything,” I tell her, turning on the water.

  “Hotter,” she says.

  “Got it.”

  “When you’re finished, knock on this door, and I’ll let you in.”

  “Thank you so much,” I say, tears in my eyes. I wonder if I should wait for Livvy, but I know she would want one of us to be here with him. I know how important it was for her to have constant contact with the girls when they were born. She said it helped with bonding. While she had much more contact with them than I did, I was able to get my fair share of time, too.

  I scrub hard, not wanting to be the reason our boy is exposed to anything harmful. I’m grateful that they’re giving me this time with him. I feel raw when I’m finished, but I’m excited, and knock at the door, ready to meet…

  We don’t have a name for him. We still haven’t come up with anything. We fought about it and abandoned the conversation. I guess it needs to be the next conversation we have.

  “Right this way.” She checks my bracelet before offering me the seat in front of the large, enclosed bed. “Now, you can put your hands through there. Don’t pick him up or disrupt the tubes, but feel free to introduce yourself. Just be gentle.”

  “He can hear, right?”

  “We haven’t done the test yet, but this late in the pregnancy, babies’ hearing has already developed. We’ll do the tests soon, but feel free to talk to him.”

  I rub my hands together to warm them before placing them inside the enclosure. Even still, he seems to jerk away from my finger when I touch his foot. I think that’s a good sign, though. I keep rubbing the bottom of his foot, back and forth, the size of it not too much bigger than the top section of my thumb.

  “Hey, little guy. Did you have a bit of a scare tonight?” His eyes open lazily, a little crinkle between them as if he’s not sure he meant to do it. “Who’s that talking to you, huh? Do you recognize Daddy’s voice?” I move my hand up to his torso and put four fingers against his belly. I can feel him breathe. I’d forgotten how wonderful it is to feel little babies breathe. “Happy birthday, baby. You know what? I think you’re going to look like your mama. Maybe you’ll have brown eyes like her, but I can tell they’re going to be big, man. And your lashes? You are going to be one handsome little thing. I bet your mama already fell in love with you at first sight, huh? Did she? I’m sure she did.

  “You have the best mama, little guy. I’m not just saying that. She’ll spend so much time with you, feeding you and cuddling with you. You’ll never want for anything. Unless you’re a loner… and you want privacy. Then we got a problem,” I say, laughing at my own statement. “She won’t be able to keep her hands off you. No way.”

  I find one of his tiny hands a
nd gently hold it in mine. “And you have two sisters who are gonna be loads of fun. They’ll show you the ropes and blame you for all sorts of things, I’m sure. Edie’s the troublemaker, so watch out for her. But she’ll make sure you always look your best. And Willow will read you all the good bedtime stories. They’re best friends. It’s pretty great, but I know they’re going to make room for you. They’re so excited to meet you. And–fair warning–they’re going to call you Froggie. Just go with it. We did your room in monkeys, but there are a bunch of frog items at the house. I mean… they were too cute for me to get rid of.

  “You’ve got Granddaddy and Memi. They already love you so much. You’ll meet them tonight. They’re just outside. They’re your mama’s parents. And you have a ton of uncles who you’ll probably confuse for a few years, and then you’ll learn what each one is good for. Your aunts are going to spoil you rotten.

  “Oh! That’s the best part!” I tell him. “You’re going to have a cousin that’s just a couple weeks–no, months now–younger than you. Can you believe that? You two will go to school together and share toys with each other. He’ll live down the street from you. Oh, yeah. He’s a little boy, too. So, you won’t have to face this world alone. It’ll be like having a brother of your own. I have two of them. Brothers are pretty cool.”

  I smile and look up at the nurses, who had been listening to me while they tended to other chores in the otherwise empty nursery, but I noticed their movements ceased a minute or two ago. They all look shocked. One is crying and looking beyond me, outside the large glass window. The other two are staring right at me.

  Chapter 14

  JACK

  “He’s bigger than Trey was,” Emi says. “I don’t remember Trey having that many tubes in him, though, do you?” She walks into my awaiting arms, embracing me.

  “He did,” I tell her, remembering the day our son was born with perfect clarity, even if it was 25 years ago. “You were a little out of it, but he did.” She sighs and looks up at me. I give her a kiss. “Congratulations, Em. We have a grandson.”