Chapter 2 - She's Here
The hospital—Mercy General, the same building where I'd lost two of the six—was slammed that night. Every hallway had a gurney in it. Marcus stayed pressed to my side the entire time, holding my hand hard enough to leave marks.
Around midnight, everything sped up at once. More nurses came in. The doctor kept calling out instructions I couldn't follow. Marcus stood up by my shoulder, looking terrified and amazed in the same breath.
Then I heard crying.
Not mine.
Hers.
Loud, furious, healthy crying.
For a few seconds I couldn't get any words out. Marcus pressed his forehead against mine. He couldn't talk either.
"She's here," he finally whispered.
I started sobbing. "She's really here."
One of the nurses laughed softly. "She's got opinions, this one."
They laid her against my chest for a moment, then carried her to the warming station a few feet away.
"Is she okay?" I asked.
"She's doing beautifully," the pediatric nurse said.
Marcus hovered between me and the warming table, not sure where he was allowed to stand.
"Go look at her," I told him. The doctor was still working on me, so I couldn't see much—but I could see Marcus's face. He was crying openly.
"She's got this little mark," he called over.
"What kind of mark?"
"Right by her collarbone. Dark, kind of oval. Looks like somebody pressed a thumb into wet paint."
The nurse chuckled. "Birthmark. Totally harmless."
"Left side?" I asked.
"Yeah. Left."
He grinned. "She already has more distinguishing features than I do."
"That's a low bar," I said.
He looked wounded. "You think she'll keep that hair?"
"Hopefully she didn't get yours. You were bald by thirty."
"I still have hair."
"Barely."
Our daughter was alive. She was healthy. Marcus was making bad jokes. After ten years of being afraid to hope, I finally let myself believe we had made it all the way through.
May you like
They took her down the hall for the rest of her routine checks, and Marcus came back to my side. I closed my eyes for what felt like ten seconds.
It was closer to fifteen minutes.
