Loving Lily(17)

“Yes?” I immediately perked up when my name was called by a guy who seemed too young to be wearing a medical personnel uniform. Without the glasses, he only appeared to be about fifteen years old.

He gave me a kind smile before introducing himself as Lily’s doctor then informing me she was now resting, bearing good news that she was indeed pregnant, and that the baby was fine. Her condition apparently wasn’t uncommon for women who were in their first trimester. A small percentage of pregnancies unfortunately suffered spotting or bleeding, as they called it. However, since she had it with excruciating cramps, she was advised to go on bed rest for the next month, and any sexual activity was prohibited until the doctor gave the clear.

At that point or for the rest of the pregnancy, for that matter, sex was the last thing on my mind. God willing, if everything panned out smoothly with no problems along the way, then in approximately eight months’ time, we would be the proud parents of our new baby boy or girl. I didn’t have any sex preference. At that rate, I would take anything. I even went on to think that, if there was any off chance there was a genetic defect or any mental incapability, I wouldn’t even bat an eyelash, because this baby was my child. My baby. No matter what challenges were ahead of us, I would be more than prepared to take them on with my arms wide open, grateful for the blessing.

While the doctor took his leave, a nurse who was also going over Lily’s care led me towards her room. She was a nice Latina woman who came off as one of those people you could tell your secrets to. She gave off that kind of vibe, as if no matter what you told her, she would still give you a hug and tell you that you had a good heart.

Though I didn’t intend on sharing anything personal, she was telling me about the baby and how well he or she was doing. And, just like any proud parent and grandparent, she didn’t lack stories of the horrors of labors and the thrilling upheaval of emotions that settled in with first time parents. She was basically, in the subtlest fashion, guiding me as to what to expect during the impending months and weeks and days after childbirth. Though she persisted that everything was all worth it, I couldn’t help detecting that tone that told me to come prepared, or I would have a big reality check.

Note to self: must educate about pregnancy, childcare, and how to deal with emotional and mental challenges of being a first time parent. Barnes and Noble should have one of those How To guide books on their shelves, right? Hell, I sure hoped they did.

Entering Lily’s room, I felt my heart pound wildly as it constricted at the very sight of her pale face. She was resting with a hand over her flat tummy, as if instinctively protecting our baby while she took some shuteye. I stood frozen, beholden at the news that she was with child. How often had I wished this dream, that we would get to experience what had been robbed from us the first time?

My fears, I was positive, were nothing compared to what was hounding Lily’s mind. Finding out there was a baby being nurtured by her body, I was certain she would go above and beyond to make sure the last unfortunate accident didn’t happen again. If I was a worrywart, she was the triple N—Neurotic Nervous Nellie. Nevertheless, she was my wife, and I would take on all her neurotic tendencies with a smile.

Moving towards her, I positioned myself to sit next to her leg at the end of the hospital bed before softly holding her limp hand, which was somewhat cold against mine. I immediately felt the need to warm it by enclosing it with my other hand, rubbing it as gently as I could until I felt the warmth of her blood flowing.

“We’re going to be parents, Lil, and you’re going to be a great mom. Aren’t you excited?” I knew I was talking more to myself, but I didn’t care. My heart was overflowing with joy, and I needed to tell Lily how ecstatic I was.

There was a low grumbling sound coming from her, drawing a deep smile from me. Being in this position, waiting for someone you cared for to wake up on the hospital bed, was terrifying. And this case wasn’t even a life or death situation. I couldn’t imagine the terror and anxiety Lily had to undergo when I lay in a coma, wondering if I would ever make it out alive.

A trail of flashbacks brought me back to the past, my breaths turning shallow and my chest squeezing the organ that had almost taken my life away.

“Hey, you’re crying again,” I sadly whispered, looking at Lily, who seemed like she was about to pass out from exhaustion or from hyperventilation due to her small, hiccupping sounds of cries.

Powerless from stopping any of this catastrophe from happening, I didn’t want my last memory of her—if it did end here—to be of her crying for me. It would break my heart if I left her in such a state. Tired though I was, all I wanted was to succumb to the heaviness of my eyes. I tried to fight it with all of my energy, not wanting to close my eyes again just in case I wasn’t ever going to wake.