“I haven’t left you, Tru. I’ve been here the whole time. The only time I left was to see our boy—and he’s right next door.” Jake tilts his head to the right.
He’s right through there. There’s only a wall separating me from my son.
“I want…see him,” I force out.
“I know, sweetheart.” He strokes my cheek with his thumb. “But I think I should get Kish now that you’re fully awake to let him check you over. Your mom and dad—I should call them and let them know you’re properly awake now. They’re waiting over at the hotel. They’ll want to see you.”
And I want to see my son.
“No.” I shake my head. Shit, that hurts. “I want…him.”
Jake smiles, and this time it’s a real honest-to-God Jake smile. The smile he reserves for me only, and I couldn’t be more relieved to see it right now.
“Okay,” he concedes. “How could I ever say no to you? I’ll get him now and bring him through.”
Jake leans down and presses his lips gently to mine. “I missed you so much,” he whispers over my lips.
Then he leaves the room, leaving me alone.
The silence hits me immediately.
I was in a car accident that resulted in my son’s being born while I was unconscious.
I missed his birth. I’ve missed the first week of his life.
I’ve missed those important first moments. The moments when a mother bonds with her child and he bonds with her. They were taken away from me. I can’t ever get them back.
What if I can’t bond with him now? What if he rejects me?
He doesn’t understand why I’ve not been with him for the start of his life. To him, I’ll be a stranger.
We don’t know each other.
What do I say—do?
I know he’s only a baby and won’t understand what I’m saying, but these first moments between us now are crucial, and I’m lying in a bed, struggling to move and in pain every time I speak.
I hate that I haven’t been here for him. I hate that this is how I’m meeting my son for the first time.
This was not how I imagined it.
I imagined my baby being handed to me, holding him in my arms. Giving him to Jake to hold for the first time. Watching as Jake had his first moments with our son.
Not having my child pulled from me while I was unconscious and Jake was on his way to the hospital.
Loss for what should have been ours overwhelms me. Visions of what happened form in my mind, forcing fresh tears to my eyes.
My son was born alone, surrounded by strangers.
I’m just so thankful he’s had Jake with him ever since.
But it makes my heart hurt that Jake has had to cope with this alone—take care of me and become a dad all on his own.
I can’t even imagine how Jake felt when he was told what happened. If it were him, I know it would have killed me.
I know without a doubt that Jake and our son will have bonded, and I am so happy for that. I’m just afraid he won’t bond with me, that he might reject me.
I don’t know how I will cope with that.
And now instead of being excited to meet my son, I’m terrified.
I hear the door open, then the squeak of wheels and two sets of feet.
My body starts to tremble, my heart beats erratically.
I close my eyes, afraid.
I don’t think I can do this.
“Put him over by the bed,” I hear Jake say.
The squeaky wheels grow ever closer. Then they stop and I hear the sound of a plug being put it in the socket, a switch being turned on, and the gentle hum of a machine.
“Give me a holler when you want a hand bringing him back through,” I hear a female voice say. Then the door closes.
I feel the bed dip as Jake sits down by my legs. “Tru.” His voice is soft. “Are you awake?”
I know I made him get the baby, but now I’m scared. I hesitate, actually considering faking sleep, and immediately hate myself for it.
I nod.
“Open your eyes.” His voice is still soft, but there’s a quiet command in it.
Taking a burning breath, I whisper, “I’m…afraid.”
I hear a light sigh escape Jake. He takes my hand in his. I curl my fingers around his hand. “I know, baby…” I can tell he’s talking from experience. “But I promise, one look at him, Tru…that’s all it takes. Trust me.”
So I do. I open my eyes and turn my head to the side. There he is, in an incubator pushed up against the side of my bed. I see him, and it’s love at first sight.
He is beautiful. The most beautiful thing I have ever seen.
I can’t remember ever feeling a love like this before. It’s equally as powerful as the love I feel for Jake, but so very different.
A mother’s love.
God, I can see so much of Jake in him.
He has the same furrow Jake has in his brow when he’s sleeping.
Any worries of not bonding with him are gone. I just love him, completely. And I start to cry instantly.
Jake squeezes my hand. “Hey, don’t cry. He’s okay in there, really. It’s just keeping him warm.”
Jake thinks I’m crying because I’m worried that’s he’s in an incubator. Of course I’m concerned about the incubator, but that’s not why I’m crying right now. I’m crying because I’m happy.
“Why don’t you touch him?” Jake suggests. “That might make you feel better. It helped me the first time I saw him.”
I start to free my hand from Jake’s when he says, “Hang on.”
Jake releases my hand and disappears into the bathroom.