Leaps and landings

64

Celeste's eyes felt heavy as they struggled to open, falling shut just the same, taking her several attempts, whoknows how many and how far apart, to actually fully make sense of her surroundings. She wasn't sure where she was exactly, what she was or how she was. It was only as the steady beeping of the machines around her reminded her, and the scent of disinfectant and a mild fragrance of something else, that she couldn't quite place, lingering in the dimly lit room confirmed that she was clearly in a hospital room. All she felt was the way her eyes and lips felt incredibly dry, her throat raspy, accompanied by a dulled pain that radiated upwards increasing as she began to piece together what had happened. She was unsure how things had developed and on some level she felt scared to find out. She laid there still, immobile, until her eyes finally focused enough to recognize the hunched figure in the armchair.

"Jess?" she whispered, unsure how strongly her voice came out, feeling like everything came out quieter than she'd intended.

"Este? Good, you're awake, finally," he sighed drowsily, quickly pulling himself out of his superficial nap. He held her hand gently, not wanting to move it too much because of the blood transfusion on that arm. She'd been out for nearly 10 hours, and while he'd already spent several of those hours at the NICU being overwhelmed by emotions and scared out of his mind, clearly not idling, time had dragged like eternity not knowing for sure if Celeste was going to make it.

"Where is she?" Celeste asked in a hoarse voice, suddenly recalling the scent that she remembered so clearly, probably still a trace of Evie left on her skin. There was nothing more urgent or important that she needed to know. The whole birth seemed like a blur, looking back. She only really recalled the sensation that she'd felt when they'd placed Evie onto her chest - the dense moist bundle of flesh - part hers and his, it's warmth and feel forever engraved in her brain. A minute was all it had taken.

"Evie is at the NICU, she's breathing on her own but they're just helping her a little to keep warm and she has mild jaundice, but they have lamps for that. She's tiny and has really sharp fingernails," he said with a slight chuckle in the end, still not quite believing she was real. "But she's eating, moving, pooping - she's perfect," he added, kissing her forehead. "Now we just need to get you well," Jess whispered as he pulled a stool closer and sat to her level, gently stroking her hair, his other hand still intertwined with hers. Celeste smiled weakly, still feeling weak.

"I'm afraid to ask...," Celeste asked a few minutes later.

"You had a severe bleed and they had to do a laparotomy. You're probably going to be hurting for a while," Jess explained carefully, knowing how she wasn't very good with wounds or blood in general. "They've got you on a blood transfusion here at the ICU," he explained calmly. Surely it was more complicated than that, but he was no doctor and with the plethora of information he'd gotten last night it was a miracle he'd remembered this much. He observed her for a minute longer, feeling beyond happy that she was there - conscious.

"I should let them know you're awake," Jess added, buzzing the call-button.

Once the doctor had examined her, the nurse checked her vitals and helped to clean her up a bit, without getting out of bed. She promised a lactation specialist would be coming by in a few hours to help her attempt to express some milk for Evie. That much interaction was already too much for her and she just wanted to go back to sleep.

"Go be with her. I don't want her to be alone," Celeste told Jess, not really needing to clarify what she meant just before she dozed off again.

"I will," he assured, kissing her forehead once more.

He'd never imagined being in a situation like this, his girls being two floors apart, his mind always having to decide whom he was going to be with. He wanted to split into two, but he was just one person. It felt like being in the wrong place either way, ridden by guilt.