[[OLD]] A Handful of Daffodils (Forgotten Series, #7)

Chapter Eighty-Three

Two weeks later

"It looks perfect." Amber said it with a smile as she pulled her gloves off. "I would say you can actually submerge it now. No more sponge baths." At that I had to give a relieved sort of smile. I hadn't had a proper bath or shower in two weeks, not since the night that I had Isla. I just wanted to feel clean but it had been hard. I had spent a week in the infirmary on full bed rest and then I had spent the last week at home on 95% bed rest because Amber wanted to ensure that my incision was closed enough that it wouldn't open up when I started moving around.

"I'll make sure you have a bath ran when we get home." Brochan's voice was almost soft and I looked over at him. He was holding Isla in his arms, her little body laying on his forearms, her small head in his hands. He was pressing little kisses to her face, smiling down at her, love practically radiating out of him. It made my breath hitch in my chest to see. He loved Isla, so much. I was... I was so relieved that he loved her that much, that he had loved her from the moment she was born. From the moment I had opened my eyes, he loved her. He was attentive, caring, loving, and there for her. That was all I had ever wanted.

"Please do." Amber draped her stethoscope around her neck with a grin. "Now because you can have a bath, it doesn't mean that you can go right back to your regular routine." The look she gave me had me pressing my lips together in slight irritation. "I mean it, Menza. We can reduce your bed rest to about 50% but no over exerting yourself. I don't want you lifting more than fifteen pounds for another week. From there we will up it to twenty pounds but not a moment before." I hated that. I hated staying in bed and not being able to do anything. Brochan wouldn't even let me pick up Maeve when she managed to toddle her way into my room to see me. I hated it, all of it.

"We do this for a reason, Menza." Andrew's voice was even and I glanced at him. He was charting my vitals of the monitors I was currently hooked up to. "Right now you're on track to be okay within about three weeks. We push you or you push yourself and your healing time could be pushed another two months. There could be more serious complications and even surgery. We want to avoid that." He gave me a soft smile that I sighed at.

"I hate feeling like this." I did. I hated feeling like I was useless. I wasn't the kind of person who was comfortable sitting in bed all day. It made me feel restless and just plain useless.

"I know. Mari hated her bed rest too but sometimes it's needed." Amber said it evenly before smiling at me. "But this next week will fly by. Just you wait. Are you done, Andrew?" She glanced over at him and he nodded so she started to unclip me from the various monitors and remove the sticky pads from my chest. "Alright, Menza, all done." I was thankful to hear that. I had been getting poked and prodded quite a bit since I had Isla. I understood why, they wanted to make sure I was perfectly okay but it was getting a bit tiresome.

"Your vitals and all our readings are perfect. As always you're a perfect patient on all accounts." Andrew grinned at me before giving me a friendly wink. I smiled back at him as Amber helped me off the cot.

"Time for me to check out little Isla." She gave me a grin and I nodded. I wanted to know exactly how she was doing. That was part of the reason I said nothing about being tired of my check ups. When I got a check up, so did Isla and the health of my little female was so important to me.

I turned and shuffled over to Brochan. He was nuzzling Isla's cheek with his nose, inhaling deeply with a soft smile. "Look at how precious she is." He whispered it as he looked up at me. I nodded as I reached out and touched his shoulder, looking down at the little life we created. She was sleeping, her hands curled into her chest and her legs tucked up. That little purple knitted cap was on her head and she looked so amazing to me. I reached down and gently ran my finger down the tiny curve of her nose, unable to help myself.