The Next Best Thing: Part II

Fifty

Imogen and Ronan had been on vacation in England, visiting family for the Christmas holiday when she fell ill with what they thought was mild food poisoning. Her baby was actually in grave danger, deprived of oxygen, and she had to give birth only a few weeks shy of the baby's due date.

Gaia and Kian met us at Heathrow, some glimmer of hope and relief in their eyes. Eoin had been silent throughout the entire flight, and I could only imagine he felt bad for leaving when he did. I did too,  seeing as he'd left his family to be with me. "I'm glad you're here too, Zoe," Gaia said with a big, reassuring hug. "Eoin needs you, if he hasn't already told you that."

We were quickly taken to the upper wing of a private city hospital, where only immediate family were gathered. Imogen had been in surgery for three hours when we arrived, no word yet on her condition and the wellbeing of the baby.

I laid my eyes upon a man flanked by many people, in day old clothes with a sullen look on his face, terrified and anxiously fidgeting in his seat. That man was Imogen's husband, Ronan, his distinguishing features giving his identity away.

Beside him and holding his hand was Juliet Macken, his mother-in-law and Eoin's concerned mother. Her husband paced around the floor in nervous anticipation of the outcome.

Eoin embraced his father and reassured the old man. Thayer Macken had tears in his eyes and a familiar frightened look on his face. His baby girl was in surgery, his first grandbaby too. He was helpless and it was driving him crazy.

Gaia's dad was speaking in a hushed tone to a mature woman wearing scrubs in a far corner. Her back was to me so I couldn't tell if she was delivering bad news, just in case I needed to soothe Eoin if his other half lost her baby.

In the meantime, I held Gaia's hand and silently observed what was going on around me. Kian was on the phone with a hotel making a reservation for Eoin and I, just in case we'd be in town for more than a day.

There was some commotion behind us, the scrubbed lady being paged immediately for something and Ronan further breaking down in Juliet's arms. She ran across the hallway into a room she exited a few moments later, a relieved smile on her face.

"It's a girl," she beamed, wiping her brow. "Exactly three kilograms."

"And Imogen?" Ronan asked, springing up off his chair. "Is my wife okay? Is she okay?"

"She's fine. She's just tired. We've sedated her so she'll be asleep for a while."

Thayer squeezed his wife in relief and the lady doctor offered to show them, accompanied by Ronan, into the baby's incubation room.

Eoin thanked the surgeons for saving his little niece, running his fingers excitedly through his hair. He came up to me and picked me up, inappropriately twirling me around in front of everyone and passionately kissing my lips.

"The baby's fine! I'm so relieved. My niece is going to be fine and she will get to meet you!" he exclaimed. "Thank you for coming."
...

Her eyes were shut, her tiny eyelashes brushing against her pink, fleshy skin. Her peach fuzz of blonde hair made her golden crown glow under the light, her small head held delicately by her happy mother.

Imogen was eventually allowed to hold her miracle baby in her arms, her equally ecstatic husband grinning over the both of them.

"She's got her uncle's blonde hair," she groaned at Eoin. "I wasn't going to share her with you but I guess I don't have a choice now."

"We'll braid each others hair," he winked at his twin sister. They were identical to each other down to the clear blue eyes sharper on Imogen's face as they contrasted with her darker hair. She was even more beautiful in person, especially considering she'd been in labour for almost two days.