Total pages in book: 127
Estimated words: 122382 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 612(@200wpm)___ 490(@250wpm)___ 408(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 122382 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 612(@200wpm)___ 490(@250wpm)___ 408(@300wpm)
“She’s bradying.” A nurse—midwife—takes Ryan’s wrist in her fingers.
“She’s hemorrhaging,” says someone else.
Everything seems to speed up, actions and reactions seeming to happen in fragments. The top of the bed is lowered, equipment appearing from nowhere as something akin to controlled pandemonium hits the room.
“You have to leave.” The wrist-holding nurse, I think, begins to push me bodily toward the door.
“No. Tell me she’s okay,” I demand. “What’s going on? What’s happening, please?”
“Someone will be with you shortly to explain. But right now, we need to get Ryan into surgery.”
The bed and medics whip by me in a blur, the woman at the center of my world small, unresponsive, and unreachable in the eye of that storm.
Chapter 43
Matt
Dear Baby Maeve,
I want to tell you about how you came into this world. Longed for but early.
You were supposed to be a July baby, but you were in a bit of a hurry . . .
When you read this letter and learn of those precarious first days, I hope you’ll know that whatever else life has in store for you, you can face it. Because you’re tenacious. A fighter. Just like your mother. And so damned beautiful like her too.
You were born a little early, nearly thirty-five weeks, and you came into the world at five fifteen in the afternoon due to something called a placental abruption. My heart feels heavy just writing that because I couldn’t protect you. Or your mother.
You needed to be resuscitated. You both did. And I wasn’t there when this happened, rushed out of the room by the medics because the stakes were too high. I thank God for it now because I don’t think I could’ve stood to watch you both suffer.
Instead, I waited and waited for news of you both, wearing holes in the hospital floor. And I swore to all that is holy that, once I had you both in my arms, I’d hold you so tight and never let either of you go. It was the longest two hours of my life and the most terrifying thing I have ever faced. I felt alone for the first time ever, and it was the saddest place in the world.
When they told me what had happened, I cried. Oh, fuck, how I cried. Sorry for the cursing. (I know you’ll fleece me out of cash as soon as you’re old enough for your cousin Clodagh to teach you her ways).
Let me tell you about your mother. Her love for you knew no bounds while you were inside her. She nourished you with her body. Protected you with her heart. And made the medical team promise they would put your life first. She made me promise, too, but how could I choose between the two of you?
In the end, I’m glad I didn’t have to.
Your mother is amazing. She’s my hero. And maybe she’ll be yours too.
I can’t wait until this afternoon when I get to commit myself to her forever, and call her my wife.
Maevy-wavy, you and your mother are what I live for.
Love always,
Daddy.
P.S. While your amazing mom fills your baby book with the prettiest photographs of you, I’m collecting the stinkers and saving them for your twenty-first birthday party. I’m gonna have them all enlarged and wallpaper the walls with them! *Cue dastardly laughter here*
Epilogue
Ryan
“Have you seen this?” A curious-looking smile plays on Letty’s mouth as she holds out her phone.
We’re standing on the terrace of Matt’s—of our—vacation home, situated close to one of the most charming pueblos blancos, or white villages, in southern Spain. Set among olive and citrus groves with views of mountain ranges and undulating valleys, the house—or rather, estate—is so beautiful. Full of ancient Moorish accents and vibrant bougainvillea tumbling down sun-drenched walls, it’s become our haven.
The sky is azure, the sun so bright, and the air is fragrant with the smell of bitter orange blossoms. It’s a perfect day to get married.
It’s been nine busy months since my world imploded. Nine months since fear made me pull the pin on self-destruct. At least until Mother Earth stepped in to finish me off.
Or rather show me I was worth fighting for.
And I did fight. I fought for my life, and my body fought for Maeve’s. And when we both came out on the other side, I learned to fight for Matt’s love in place of fighting against it.
As harrowing as my birth experience was, it was also humbling. Get over yourself, the world seemed to say. Rest. Get well. You’re needed here. And from thinking I deserved to be alone, I was suddenly surrounded by love. And stuck in a hospital bed, unable to run away from it!
Matt never left my side, and his loved ones rallied too. They brought words of hope and joined us in our silent prayers for Maeve, fingers pressed to the windows of the NICU.