14
I woke up to the sound of crying babies. Oh, yes, give them to me, please. I opened my eyes and remembered that I was in the hospital, but couldn’t remember why.
If the colors of baby blankets were correct, Toppy held Helen, and gently swayed her back and forth. Mom had Paul.
“I should feed them,” I said, reaching out my hands.
“Oh, honey, you’re awake. We thought you might want to, so here we are,” Mom said. She brought Paul to me and helped him latch on. He looked like a little blue football along my right arm. Mom went for Helen, and then Toppy left the room.
I appreciated that, because modesty took a back seat to nursing two at once.
They both latched on and my arms were full.
Mom fluffed the pillows behind my head and I lay back.
“I was afraid they’d not nurse after being given formula,” I said, looking from one sweet baby to the other.
“Answered prayer for sure. They missed you, but they’ve been fine.”
“I did go home, right? What happened?”
“You were anemic, and your blood pressure went sky high. You passed out. David’s run tests, and he’s sure there’s no blood clot, which can happen after childbirth. You’ll be fine.” Her expression didn’t match her words.
“You look worried. Are the babies all right?” They looked perfectly wonderful to me.
“They’re fine, doing well. I’m a nurse, I know these things,” she said, forcing a little laugh.
“If you say so. The surgery must have been difficult. I can’t seem to remember anything past the morning of the Dedication. I guess going into labor caused that to be postponed?”
“Yes, we’ll have the ceremony as soon as you feel like it.”
Seemed as if she left something out. I couldn’t imagine being ready to go anywhere or do anything for quite some time. So much to do to take care of the children. My mother reached for my hand.
“You are doing great, look at them both nursing away,” she said.
“I feel terrible that I left them. I didn’t mean to. I just don’t remember anything.”
“Don’t try, just concentrate on getting stronger.”
“Where’s Scott?”
“Oh, he’s visiting with David. I’m sure he’ll turn up soon. He can’t stand to be away from you and the twinsies for very long at all.”
“I guess I scared him to death.” I squinted my itching nose, but wouldn’t have disturbed those nursing babies for anything.
Helen fell asleep. The contented peace on her little face made me smile.
Mom pulled her off and swaddled her blanket around her. She laid her in the little bassinet by my bed. Paul nursed on. I scratched my nose with my free hand.
“Hungry?” Mom asked.
“No, but very thirsty. I could use some water.”
“I’ll get you some fresh ice water and be back in a jiffy.” She left the room.
Paul pulled off and whimpered a bit. He must need a diaper change. I realized I hadn’t done that by myself since they were born. A little stack of diapers and wipes sat on the rolling table and I was able to reach it and pull it over. I sat up, lay Paul between my knees and started to change him. I wondered what it would be like to have them both crying and needing changing at once. I couldn’t wait to get them back home and experience the challenge.
He fell asleep as soon as I changed him and folded him into his little blue blanket. I’d crocheted this one and Helen’s as well. I couldn’t wait to add a blue row and then a pink one to the blanket I’d made for Scott’s wedding present. Such a hodge-podge of colors that represented our life together.
Why did I see a black row of yarn in my mind? An uncomfortable feeling came over me. What was I missing? Why couldn’t I remember?
Mom came back with the water and ice. She spooned a little into my mouth.
“Thanks, Mom. That’s nice.”
“Aw, he’s asleep too. Let’s put him in his bassinet with his sister. Give you a little break.” Mom picked Paul up and nestled him next to Helen.
“Seems I’ve had enough of a break. I don’t know what happened, but I really hate that I left them. Doesn’t bode well for the maternal thing, does it?”
“Sweetie, it doesn’t mean a thing. You’ve been through an unspeakable ordeal, and maybe we shouldn’t have released you yet. You’ll be fine, and you are making a fabulous mother.” Mom stroked my forehead.
“The birth was that traumatic?” How could I not remember? Of course I was sedated.
“Well, an unexpected c-section is traumatic,” she said. “You don’t remember anything else?” Her worried gaze troubled me.
“I was sitting on the porch about to get ready for the ceremony. I remember I was having Braxton-Hicks contractions. I suppose they must have been real. I guess Scott picked me up for the Barkley House dedication, but we came to the hospital instead.” The recesses of my brain gave me no more information.
Mom cleared her throat and smoothed my hair behind my ears. Something wasn’t right. Why wouldn’t she tell me? Why did this unfamiliar name float around in my brain?
“Mom, who is Brenna?”
She left the room without a word.