The Fight (Republished)

Chapter 14: Strength For Three

My mother-in-law seems to have a knack for calling things. She was right about sports predictions, lotteries, machines at the casino, even people watching. Thankfully though, she was right about her daughter pulling through the surgery she had the other day. My wife was listed as critical in the beginning and the doctors did all they could to get blood circulating back into her body after the hemorrhaging during labour of our son. Strength seemed to be in abundance within her spirit. I don't think I've ever been that strong enough to pull through so much in my life. I've battled my demons here and there while growing up, but nothing quite like she has. She has another person to live for now, our son.

At first she was living for the chance to have a son, but now that he is here, there is a sense of responsibility that goes with his birth. She didn't just give birth to him like she wanted, she now also needed to feed him. There were so many pressures now building up that I wondered if there was anything I could possibly do to alleviate any of them. I couldn't breastfeed my son, only she could do that. And since she was recovering from surgery, they drew milk from her so that I could feed him using a bottle.

It worked for the most part with me holding him and my mother-in-law sitting close by. We sat in the room my wife was recovering in. Being in her presence, we hoped that she could feel us there, even though she wasn't awake, or responding to anything we whispered to her. She was out like a light, but the gears were still turning inside, just waiting for her energy levels to come back up so she could open her eyes and speak.

My son didn't fuss much as I fed him that evening. He was hungry and didn't mind the rubber nipple instead of the real one he could be sucking on, only a few feet away. I wanted so badly for her to wake up and to be able to feed him directly. Not because I didn't want to do it anymore, but because she deserved the opportunity to do it. Giving birth to a child is so amazing, but as a father, what I feel probably won't ever come close to what a mother does. My wife was the one to carry him for nine months, not me. She pushed him out and endured all that pain, and everything else that went along with the pregnancy. I'd never be able to feel a baby kicking me from inside the womb. I felt it many times of course with my hand on her belly, but it's just not the same, I'm certain of that.

When my wife finally showed signs of waking up after surgery, it was day three. I was sitting there with my laptop, trying to work on my book some more before it went for the final review and got published. I was just fixing a grammatical error when I heard a faint rustling of the bed sheets as she tried to lift one of her arms from under the blanket. Looking over, I saw her moving and immediately saved the file, closed the laptop and set it down on the stand next to me. I stood up and went to her bedside. She was moving, but her eyes weren't open and she showed no signs of trying to open her mouth either. The nurses always reminded me to not expect much in the beginning since she had been recovering for so long. I didn't have any expectations of my wife, but I did have my hopes up that she would open her eyes and speak to me sooner than later.

I stood there for quite some time, caressing her cheek and pushing her brown hair back so it wasn't resting on her face. She seemed to have just stirred while sleeping, perhaps from a dream, or maybe her body was just restless. I moved the chair closer since I wouldn't be going back to typing any time soon and took her hand in mine. Gently, I kissed her hand then pressed it up against my cheek. Her skin was warm and soft, she was still with me. The wedding ring on her finger sparkled even though there wasn't much light in the room.

"Persistent," I mumbled to myself.

Her mom quietly walked in to join me and pulled up a chair on the other side of the bed. She held onto her daughter's other hand and I forced a quick smile at her, which she returned.

"Any progress?" she asked in near whisper.

"Not really," I replied, gently clearing my throat. "She moved just before you walked in, but she didn't open her eyes."

"No expectations, right?"

I nodded in reply to my mother-in-law and then set my head down on the side of the bed as I drifted off to sleep.

Waking up, I noticed we were alone. I looked down at my watch and saw that it was after dinner, so I wondered if my baby boy had his meal yet. I let go of my wife's hand and then stood up, walking out of the room and into the hall. As I turned to walk down to the maternity ward, I saw my mother-in-law in a chair in the hall, feeding my son with a bottle. One less thing to worry about I guess, I thought to myself. I felt rather groggy as I walked over to her, a yawn taking over my face as she noticed me. She acknowledged my presence with a smile, then looked back down at her grandson.

"I need something to drink," I told her. "Do you want something?"

"Whatever you're having is fine," she answered politely, glancing back up at me.

Fifteen minutes later, I was back in the room with two steeped teas. After handing my mother-in-law hers, I sipped on mine as I finally gained my senses back. The room was too dark for my body not to be tempted to feel sleepy again, so I stood up and walked outside the room. I stood against the wall in front of the door so I could still see in. My wife was definitely a fighter, but it seemed that she liked to do it in silence with no one else aware of what was going on.

Day four soon arrived and so did my wife's ability to open her eyes, followed shortly by her hoarse voice.

"What happened?" she asked.

I smiled briefly and then replied, "You had surgery."

"Why?"

It would be a never ending barrage of questions I could see.

"There was hemorrhaging during delivery, but you're okay now. It's been four days," I added.

"Lars?" she asked, seemingly undeterred by anything.

"I'll go get him, I'll be right back," I told her.

She moaned and pouted as I went to leave. Lifting her chin up, I could tell that she wanted a kiss. I smiled at her and then placed my left hand on her cheek as I pressed my lips against hers. Even though her lips were kind of dry, it felt good having them pressed up against mine again. It felt like months had passed since I kissed her last, a rush of relief passing over me as I then left to get our son.

When I came back, she had somehow managed to wriggle into a more upright position. Now that she was awake, she was determined to get her life back on track. I knew she wouldn't ask for my help, but I still offered to tilt the bed before handing Lars over to her. She mumbled something that I couldn't quite make out, so I started to tilt the bed. There was no disapproval from her, so I set it to a position where she could comfortably hold him.

Once he was in her arms, tears began streaming down her face and she kissed him on the forehead. His tiny hands opened as if he was reaching for her nose. It was such a beautiful moment that I wished we could have stayed in it forever. There was no need for us to grow old together, or wave goodbye to him as he left for college. That moment, was all either of us really needed. What would come after it, surely wouldn't be as good if the doctor was correct with him saying she had about two years to live. Everything from that moment on would bring her closer to the end, and I didn't want that. Lars was too young to know any better, but he wouldn't have wanted that either. He would want his mother to stay, raise him to be a respectful man, teach him things, make him laugh, help him with homework and bake cookies with him. I suppose I could do all of those things too, but it just wouldn't be the same without her there as well. I would have my way of doing things and she would have hers. With both ways, he'd learn everything that he needed to know. Without hers, I wondered if he'd turn out okay, if I could do it all alone. If in about a year's time I was left alone with him, I wasn't sure what I would do. There would be a lot of firsts for me, that's for sure, but I wished they could be split, or shared with my wife for longer than what we were supposedly given.