*
*
We are at thirty weeks along and we are counting the minutes remaining before the unknown hour at which Ben will make his entrance into the world. Pam had a good night of sleep last night, though not as good as the previous two. But she’s settled into some sort of pattern: decent mornings, awful afternoons, decent evenings, and good nights. We’ll see if this continues to be true over the next couples of weeks.
Pam is still pre-eclamptic, but she is stable. The doctors decided not to do labs on her until next week, so we live without the threat of delivery for now. They actually think Pam can hold out another two weeks (as long as her contractions do not progress to real labor). But even Pam’s water breaking will not mean that we make a mad dash for the operating room! Apparently, as long as there’s a bit of fluid in the amniotic sack, Ben can continue to survive and grow inside Pam’s belly.
Big Ben continues to do well and has a pretty good chance all around, over 95%. He is almost three pounds and measures about 16 inches long. But I’m not concerned with Pam or Ben nowadays (they’ve proven to be tough cookies), my concern is with our little Cecelia.
Last week Pam had to stay at the hospital (Nothing is taken lightly at this stage) because of pending lab results. Usually I would drop Cece off at Helene’s and return to stay the night with Pam. But Cece wasn’t feeling good and Pam and I decided that I would stay home with her.
When I picked her up, she was already sleeping and would normally remain asleep all night. But at around 11-ish she woke up and staggered into our bedroom, dragging her blanket.
“Mommma?” She called.
“Hey girl. Why are you awake? It’s night-night time.”
“Daddy? I wan momma,” she said rubbing her sleepy eyes.
“Oh bug, momma’s in the hospital.”
I expected her to counter with, “But I want to see her,” or “Can we go see her?” but she didn’t. Her face scrunched up, her little legs gave in from underneath her, and she broke completely. It caught me off guard. Cece is not one to just burst into tears, even if she is feeling a bit under the weather.
“Mommaah!!!” She cried.
“Cee, c’mere girl.” I asked her, but she didn’t move. So I walked to where she had planted herself and tried to lift her to me, but she grudgingly pulled away.
“I wanna mommmahh!!”
I tried to lift her to my lap again, but she stiffened her entire body like you wouldn’t believe. Helpless, I sat there on the floor with her.
“Cecelia, you're breaking my heart. You're shaking my confidence daily,” I began singing. I know, I know…It’s not the best song. But it’s her song.
“Oh, Cecelia, I'm down on my knees. I'm begging you please to come home...........Cecelia, you’re breaking….”
By the third verse she had stopped crying. She let her little body slump on the carpet and nuzzled her flushed face on her blanket. I sat there with her, rubbing my hand on her back. She was a bit warm, but not feverish. Her nose was running and I’m sure she felt just as miserable as she looked.
“Cee?” I said.
She looked up at me with eye swimming in pools of tears.
“You miss momma, huh?”
She nodded as I wiped her nose.
“What if we go see her tomorrow first thing?”
“DaddyIwannaseemomma,” she repeated with a new a rush tears.
“I know sweetie. But it has to wait till tomorrow, kay? C’mere….”
She crawled to me and burrowed her face on my shirt. Cece was tired, tired of this whole situation, tired of being whisked away from us.
“Do you want to go to the big bed?”
She shook her head.
“Yeah... me neither.”
So we just slept there, on the floor.
I can’t explain the sadness that overcame me that night. I was heartbroken. Cece’s not the seven pounder who came in our lives three years ago and turned everything we knew upside down for the first time of many times to come. She’s definitely not the one-year-old who used my stomach as a trampoline. She’s this little girl with a big heart that is very much breakable.
And it is my job to protect it and I feel like I have slept on the job.
You might think I’m over reacting. And maybe I’m. Beside, kids cry for their parents all the time, right? It’s just….Everything seems to be slipping away from me and I can’t find any quick absorbing action that will get it under control. I do all that I can to be a devoted father, a caring husband, and a good person, but it seems I’m lagging behind ….
Pam called that night and I avoided at all costs telling her what happened, but she knows me very well. There’s very little I can hide from her.
“I know there’s something wrong, Jim.”
“Pam, everything is fine.”
“I don’t know why you’re choosing to hide whatever it is you’re hiding from me. Does Cece have a fever?”
“Not really.”
“Do you have a fever?”
“No… It’s just—”
“What?”
I sighed. How was I supposed to tell her this without breaking her heart? “Cece woke up and came to the room asking for you. When I told her you weren’t here she just…broke, Pam.”
“Oh Jim...Is she okay now? Did she cry for long? Are you sure she doesn’t have a fever?”
“She doesn’t have a fever. I’m keeping her with me tonight. I told her we’re coming to see you first thing tomorrow.”
I heard Pam sniffling on the other side of the phone. I knew this would happen.
“You okay?”
“Umm…. Yeah.. I-I’m okay. You should make an appointment for Cece, though. Maybe there’s some bug going around that we don’t know about.”
“Yeah, I’ll call tomorrow.”
There was a beat of silence before she asked, “What time are you coming tomorrow?”
“Around 10. I have a feeling Cece will be sleeping in. How are you holding up?”
“I’m hanging in here. Ben hasn’t moved tonight.”
“He is sleeping, Pam. Actually you should go rest yourself. It’s late.”
“I guess… Kiss Cece goodnight for me.”
“I will. We love you.”
“We love you too.”
I didn’t sleep that night and I’m pretty sure Pam didn’t either. The next morning she looked worn out. But being the amazing mom she is, she put it all aside and placed a smile on her face for Cece.
Even though Cece’s tears have since been replaced with lots of smiles, we are still keeping a close eye on her. We make sure we dedicated a day just for her. We also make sure we don’t go a day without seeing her. We actually spent the day at the park today. It got my mind away from… everything. For a moment it was like everything was okay - an escape from reality. It calmed my restlessness a bit.
I want to finish this post with something Pam told me today. She said that headaches only appear when we forget to laugh. But how can I laugh when my wife’s health is at risk? Or when I don’t know if Ben will be okay? And how can I laugh when my little girl cries because she misses her mom? Or when life is just really, really, really hard and unpleasant and downright awful sometimes? Honestly? I don’t know. But I think Pam is on to something.
Hopefully the next time I decided to write again I’ll have it figured out.
-Jim
Chapter End Notes:
Thank you guys so much for reading!
