Little Fire Burning (Ch. 85: Till death do us part *23.Apr 16*)
Stelio Kontos:
Quote from: theraven;1268735
is that quick enough :D
just kiddin'... I have one more chapter to do right now, and then the contest entry, and then I'll start the real story. this is just warming up...
I can't promise that there will be as many pictures as in my earlier stories. Mostly because I'm suffering from an extremely slow computer, and really slow camera and play mode ingame. But the story will not suffer from it :)
That update was insanely fast.
Can't wait for the real thing.
Theraven:
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CHAPTER 3: Homecoming - round 1
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I remember once when we'd just brought Erica home from the hospital. She cried a lot the first few weeks, until we managed to get her used to something vaguely resembling a schedule - but the first two nights home were definitely the worst. I almost went crazy. I'd finally managed to put her to bed, and had just reached the living room when I heard her start again. Grumbling a little, I headed for the stairs. I was halfway up the stairs when she stopped crying. Puzzled, I went to check on her. I found Tony in the chair, holding Erica and singing for her. She was looking at him, listening to his voice. I smiled, and tiptoed inside, sitting down beside the chair.
Not long after, Erica was sleeping again. Tony kissed her forehead before handing her to me, and I put her to bed.
"I know I said I wanted a bike for my birthday, but Erica is my bestest birthday present ever!"
Erica had been born the day after Tony's birthday - talk about timing! I smiled to him, and gave him a long hug.
Even though they could be like most brothers and sisters - arguing, blaming each other for broken things, and fighting once in a while (more like twice a day on a good day) - I knew they loved each other a lot. My best moments with them were when they behaved like friends, and when Tony was looking out for his sister. I hoped he'd be just as good a big brother for the twins, too.[/i]
***
I woke up to the sound of a door closing. I must've fallen asleep sometime during the late evening, too tired and exhausted to keep my eyes open. I did remember the dream had been about Tony and Erica. I just couldn't quite remember what it had been.
One of my nurse colleagues, Molly, came in.
"Hey there, Jenna. I just wanted you to know your baby girl is ready for visiting now. I can take you to her if you want?"
I nodded, and Peter helped me into the wheelchair Molly had brought.
Molly took us to the NICU, and we washed our hands before entering. Our little girl was inside an incubator, surrounded by machines monitoring and giving medications, wires connected with stickers that looked giant on her, and tubes going in and out of her tiny body. She had a CPAP tube strapped to her nose, pushing up her nostrils and making her look like the world's most adorable piglet. The CPAP meant she could breathe mostly on her own, which made me relax a little. Not needing intubation was usually a good sign with a small preemie.
"She's a strong little girl, this one. Not a big fan of sleeping, though. She's been awake most of the night, even crying a bit. Want to hold her?" Molly said. "I was just going to feed her, but thought you'd like to do it instead."
"Of course!" I said.
Molly lifted the tiny girl out of the incubator, wrapped her in a blanket, and handed her to me. I expertly fiddled with the tubes and wires so they weren't in the way. She kicked her little legs, a little fussy and squirmy, probably from an empty belly.
"Hi there, little one!" Peter said, and touched her cheek carefully. The girl looked up at him, and blinked a little. Her eyes were dark blue, though preemie eye color often changed. She still had soft preemie fuzz all over her translucent skin, and her head had a spiral of blonde strands just long enough to give her a tiny fringe. The diaper she had on looked to be at least two sizes too big, and the pink knit hat poking through the CPAP straps almost reached her eyes.
After several years of handling tiny premature babies, I still hadn't gotten over how small they could be. Tony had been a bit larger, born at nearly 32 weeks. The twins were only at week 29.
Molly handed me an open syringe with what I expected was donated breastmilk, and I connected it to the baby girl's NG tube. My milk still hadn't come in yet, which would probably take at least a couple days of pumping. For now she would be tube-fed, but I hoped she'd take to breastfeeding when she was a bit bigger and stronger. She started fussing again, and gripped the tube as if to tear it away.
"There, there, little one," I said, gently rocking her. "Calm down, it's just a bit of food. Gotta get strong, you know."
Peter studied the name sign, which for the moment said "Baby Girl Brooks" and my details. The sign was pink, decorated with flowers. "What do you think about a flower name?"
I thought it over. "You mean something like Rose, or Lavender?"
Peter briefly glanced at his phone, probably checking the birthday list. "You know we talked about naming them after someone in the family? Mom's middle name is Lily-Ann, but she never used either of them."
"Lily is a nice name. I like it."
The baby girl gave a tiny baby smile. Peter held out his pinky, and she grabbed it, barely reaching halfway around.
"I think she approves."
I nodded. "Lily it is, then."
Molly smiled. "I like it, too. It's a cute name."
I peeked over at Peter's phone. "Any more nice names in your family?"
"Dad didn't have a middle name, but I'll keep looking."
I turned to Molly. "So how's our boy? Have you heard anything?"
"Last I heard is that he needed a quick fix to make sure the ductus arteriosus stays open. Celina is still working on him. I've not heard any more about the situation, but whatever it is I'm sure she'll fix it. She's the best heart surgeon in the hospital, and you know it."
I didn't like the sound of that. There were only a handful of heart conditions I knew of where keeping this particular blood vessel open after birth would be vital for survival, and none of them promised anything good for our baby boy.
"I know," I said. But knowing he was in good hands didn't mean I wasn't afraid. We'd almost lost Tony when he was born. I did not want to go through it once more.
By the time I'd finished feeding Lily, she'd fallen asleep. Because of my stitches, I let Molly put her back into the incubator, since I didn't want to risk tearing anything open.
Molly guided us back to my room.
"You should get some sleep, Jenna. I'll come and tell you when the surgery is finished."
I yawned. I'd only slept a few restless hours after the surgery, and was dead tired. I must have managed to fall asleep again, because I woke up to Erica climbing up into my bed.
"Mommy allrigh?"
I let her crawl into my arms, and gave her a hug.
"I'm ok."
Tony and my parents were there too.
"We just got here. Are the babies OK?"
"We're still not sure about the boy, but the girl is fine. She's breathing mostly on her own."
"Boy and girl?" Tony said, and a smile spread over his entire face.
"Yes, both," I said.
"Wow! A boy I can play with when he gets a bit bigger and a girl so I'll never again have to play tea-party with Erica!"
I laughed, and ruffled his hair before giving him a long hug.
Just then, a knock came on the door, and Celina peeked in.
"I just want you to know the surgery went well. He's still a bit weak, but stable at the moment."
"Thanks so much, Celina."
"No problem. It's my job, after all." She eyed the rest of the people in the room. "I'll come back and talk with you later, okay?"
"Can we visit them?" Tony said excited.
"I've told you before they don't let in children under 12 years, Tony," I said.
"Aww... why can't it be my twelfth birthday today?"
I smiled. "I'm sure you can see them through the window if you want."
Tony insisted on pushing the wheelchair. When we got over to the NICU, I briefly held up Lily in front of the window, so they all could see her. The boy was still too weak, so I could not lift him out, but Molly helped moving the incubator closer. Tony melted like ice cream when he saw them.
"Do they have names yet?" Tony asked when I came back out.
"We decided to name the girl Lily, after Gran's middle name," I said. "We're not sure about the boy's name yet."
Peter checked his phone again, and turned to me. "What do you think about Aidan? It was your grandfather's middle name, but I kind of like it better spelled with an A instead of an E. Apparently it means 'little fire'. Maybe we could add on James from your dad?"
Tony nodded, smiling. "I like the name Aidan, but cut James. One of my friends is called James, and I don't want them to get confused."
"I like it too," I said. "He's a little fighter, so the name fits perfectly. There's no need for a double name."
"Aidan it is, then," Peter said, and we headed back to my room again.
After cuddles and good-byes, my parents took the kids back home for some dinner and bedtime. A few minutes after they left, Celina knocked on the door and poked her head in.
"Can I come in?"
I smiled, and nodded.
She sat down beside my bed, and motioned for Peter to sit down, too.
"I guess it's time for good news/bad news now," I said with a sigh.
Celina nodded. "Mostly bad ones, I'm afraid. As you know, I've suspected the baby boy-"
"-Aidan," Peter added.
"Nice name," Celina commented with a smile. "Like I said, I suspected Aidan had a heart defect, but he was never in a good enough position to get a clear view with ultrasound. I had some suspicions, but didn't want to worry you too much. It tuned out one of my suspicions were right, and unfortunately it's not one of the better options. He's got what's called Hypoplastic left heart syndrome."
I nodded in recognition. I'd seen it a couple times in the NICU before.
"It means the left side of his heart is underdeveloped, and the left ventricle is barely functional," she added, for Peter's sake. "It's a severe condition, but I have seen worse cases than his, so for now I'm positive. It is going to involve at least two more surgeries, and possibly a heart transplant further down the line, but it is possible to live well into adulthood without a transplant as long as the surgeries are successful and there aren't too many other complications."
She gave us a bit more information on the condition, and a hug each, before she left.
"We can deal with this," Peter said, staring at the door where Celina had disappeared. I wished I could be as sure of it as he sounded.
Days went, and then weeks. Except for a few setbacks as was expected with preemies, Lily got stronger every day, and a bright summery day in early September we were allowed to take her home - close to the original due date, a little over two months after the birth. Aidan was still inside his incubator, and was not out of danger yet. He had multiple setbacks, and also needed a second surgery for his heart once he'd reached a good enough size. It hurt deep inside me the day when we could only take Lily back home, and not her brother. She was still tiny, and a lot of the clothes we had bought were still a bit too big for her. She was not yet as big as a full-term newborn baby, but she did grow fast.
When we parked the car in the driveway, we were met with a big banner over the entrance, showing "Welcome home, Lily", with an arrow pointing into the garden. We followed the arrows to the back yard, and found a great party going on - food, presents and most of our closest family greeting us.
I put a sleeping Lily in her stroller just inside the door (she was not supposed to be outside much, or be around many people for a few more weeks). Everyone wanted to see her, though.
It was a tradition in our family to greet babies when they came home with a big party.
After a rather calm party (not too much yelling and noise because of Lily), everyone but my and Peter's parents went home. They and Peter did all the cleaning, while I went in to feed Lily, who'd taken to breastfeeding like a hungry little champ.
In the evening, we ordered pizza, and had a little picnic in the living room (much to Erica's entertainment - she ended up on the pizza. Literally!).
Lily had to stay at home the first months - and maternity leave was not exactly glorious with a baby who always cried when she wasn't carried around, and the two tornados causing just as much havoc as usual.
Visiting little Aidan at the hospital became a daily event. I walked around day after day, week after week, month after month - hoping he would soon be strong enough to come home.
His setbacks were many, and he ended up needing more surgeries, and went through several infections. What I saw in the doctors' faces scared me. I had been around them enough to know when they looked like that, something was wrong. They tried to calm me down, saying Aidan would most likely soon be ready to come home. But I could see the worry in their faces.
Which made made me worry, too.
Astral Faery:
Another touching and probably heartbreaking story. I think I'll get my kleenex ready - I know I'll need them! I'm always so impressed by your pictures and your effects - I love the spaghetti all over the kitchen, the chicken pox, and Erica in the pizza box - just to name a few. Great job so far - I look forward to more.
Pierre:
great story keep up the good work
ImpishParody:
I loved your previous stories raven, they even reduced me to tears at some points, and this one is shaping up to be on the same level of excellence :D Your pictures are fantastic, I want your graphics card! xD
You're a fabulous writer, keep it coming :)
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