I tried to say I was the family, but nothing came out. Panic squeezed my throat so tightly I couldn’t even breathe. This was it. This was my news.
“That would be us,” Rush said when he realized I wasn’t going to be able to do it.
The doctor walked over to us and glanced back over Rush’s shoulder. “Haven’t ever seen this waiting room quite so full,” he said.
“Harlow’s loved,” Rush replied.
I managed to gasp in some air, and the doctor’s eyes swung to me. “You OK?”
“He needs to know how Harlow is. He’s about to go into a full panic attack,” Blaire’s voice said behind me.
“I need immediate family,” the doctor said.
“She’s my fiancée,” I finally managed to speak out.
The doctor nodded. “All right, then, good enough. I assume the baby is yours.”
I nodded.
“Well, congratulations. You have a baby girl born at two forty-five a.m. It’s too early, but we had to do an emergency C-section. She will have to stay in NICU for a little while, but she is completely developed, and her heart looks good. She’s three pounds ten ounces and sixteen inches long. I’ll need you to fill out her birth certificate when you’re ready to step back there and see her.”
Lila Kate was alive. She was here. On September 28, 2014, I had become a dad. I sucked in a deep breath. Harlow had done it. She’d brought our baby into this world healthy and alive. But what about Harlow . . .
As if reading my thoughts, the doctor went on. “We lost Harlow for a couple of seconds. She came back fast, though. She’s a fighter.”
“You lost her?” I asked, not understanding what he was telling me.
“Her heart stopped beating, but she came back with a little help. However, she hasn’t woken up and is in critical condition. I can’t tell you right now if and when she’ll wake up. Her heart and body suffered through a severe traumatic episode. She’s lost a lot of blood, and she’s going to need a transfusion. Because of her delicate nature, it needs to be A-positive. If there’s a relative handy with her blood type, a parent or sibling, that would be best.”
I was B-positive. I couldn’t help her. She needed me, and I couldn’t do anything.
“I’m O-negative,” Woods said, stepping up beside me. “I’m not related, but I know O-negative is a universal donor.”
The doctor nodded. “Yes, but if we had a family member with the same blood type, it would be best. If not, we will gladly take your offer.”
“I’m A-positive. I’m her sister. I’ll do it.”
At Nan’s words, the entire waiting room went silent.
My sweet Lila Kate,
Today you entered this world. I’m writing this before I’ve actually seen you. This is my letter to you if I’m not there to hold you and welcome you into this life. I can imagine, though, how perfect and beautiful you are. I bet you have your daddy’s blue eyes. I hope you have his smile. He has a wonderful smile.
If you never got a chance to meet me, know that you were my greatest accomplishment. You were a dream that I never imagined would come true. Since I was a little girl, I wanted to be a mommy. I wanted a baby of my own. I didn’t understand what that meant until I was told you were inside of me. I already loved your daddy so fiercely. You were a part of him, and I loved you with the same fierce adoration.
Every choice I made until this day has been one I wanted to make, and I wouldn’t change a thing. I would love the chance to at least hold you, but if that doesn’t happen, know that I held you inside of me for nine months (I hope) and cherished every day.
Sleep tight in the secure arms of your daddy. I know I have. He’ll be good at making you feel safe. When you’re scared, let him remind you that he’s right there, always ready to hold you when you need it.
More than anything, I want to tell you this: You are a fighter. You are strong. You are brave. You can accomplish anything you set your mind to. This world is yours to make the most of, and I believe you will live a life so full of happiness that I will feel it from above.
Never let others bring you down. Their words don’t change who you are. You are in control of who you are. You, my sweet Lila Kate, are your mother’s daughter. We fight for what we want and what we believe in. We don’t listen to others, and we are secure in who we are. Show the world how amazing Lila Kate Carter is, and climb mountains, baby girl. Climb them all.
Love you always,
Mommy
Grant
She was tiny. The most tiny, perfect thing I’d ever seen. They had made me wash up in a shower and put on scrubs before I walked into the small room where they were keeping Lila Kate. She was asleep inside an incubator, and there was a wire taped to her chest. Her little feet were drawn up close to her body. Besides a pair of tiny socks, she had on only a diaper and a little knit hat. Was she cold?
“In a couple of days, you can hold her. Right now, we need to monitor her and make sure she’s as healthy as she appears to be. She came out with a loud battle cry, which is a very good sign,” the nurse beside me said.
“She’s tough. Like her mom,” I replied, and my voice cracked.
They hadn’t let me see Harlow yet. When they told me I could come back and see Lila Kate, I hadn’t been sure I wanted to do that. Not without Harlow. She hadn’t seen her yet. But the idea of Lila Kate lying back here alone without her mother was more than I could handle. Harlow would want me back here with our daughter. I wasn’t going to let her down.