Blessings
Peter Pevensie hadn't stopped crying all morning. His grandmother held him and did everything she could to consul the newly crawling baby. It was obvious that he needed his parents right now, but there was little to be done for that. Ella Pevensie had been visiting with her son and his family when his poor wife had experienced the first pain.
Peter had been very young when she found herself expecting another addition to the family and though there had been some trepidation about how close the two would be both parents were thrilled that their prayers for a family would be answered so completely. The excitement had turned to panic when they realized how early this child would be.
She watched her son pace back and forth in the waiting room and wished there was some way to help him. What she really wished was for her husband to be here now to help talk to him. Peter's crying quieted slightly and she hoped that the poor thing would sleep for a time.
In another room the younger Mrs. Pevensie started crying as she watched the doctor holding her tiny new baby. All she could think was how early the baby was. "You have a daughter." One of the nurses said as she took the baby out of the room. Helen wished that they would let her hold the tiny thing, for who knew how long she would be with them. She was so tired though. She didn't remember being this exhausted after Peter was born, but she fought to stay awake. She had to wait for her husband; to tell him that they had the daughter he said he wanted.
The doctor went and found the distraught father and knew that this would not be a pleasant task. "Mr. Pevensie, might I have a word." He watched the poor man fearfully glance to what he assumed was his firstborn and then turn back to the doctor. He nodded his assent and then followed into a narrow corridor that would offer them a bit of privacy. "I just would like to start with your wife is doing well all things considered and should recover, she's a bit tired now." There was a look of pure relief on Jack Pevensie's face and the doctor wished he didn't have to ruin the relief he was feeling. "You have a daughter born about fifteen minutes ago. She weighed just over two pounds and we are trying everything we can to help her right now. I will tell you that babies born this early are likely to have developmental issues if they survive at all." He nodded his understanding, but his face showed complete shock. He was led into a small room where there were two cribs. He was only allowed to look through the glass at his daughter.
The doctor explained to him how the room that they kept her in would be kept at thirty-two degrees in order to maintain warmth for the baby. The latest technology that they had available suggested that premature babies be kept isolated monitored and kept warm, he had explained. He looked in sadness at the tiny baby and could only pray that she would even survive. After that he was taken to see his wife.
At first he thought his beloved Helen was asleep but she seemed to sense him in the room and opened her eyes. "We have a daughter… just like you wanted." She tried to smile but the effort tired her.
"Yes dear," he held tightly to her hand, "you must rest though now." She blinked long and hard and he sat beside her.
"Pray for her for me." She requested finding a bit of strength. He was slightly surprised by this request but complied willingly.
"I pray that this new daughter, who doesn't even have a name, will be protected." He began, trying to control his emotions. "I pray that she might stay with us even a little longer. And I pray that if she does- does not stay with us that she will be taken into Your care oh Lord." His voice broke at the last but he watched his wife close her eyes momentarily.
The newborn's parents stayed at the hospital every waking moment, they hardly left her side as they watched, waited, and prayed that their son might get to know his baby sister. They didn't dare name her because every moment of her life was so fragile. They almost feared that a name would be too much for her to bear. Week by week she managed to grow and breathe and the doctor's pronounced her a miracle. Mr. and Mrs. Pevensie never felt more relieved than the day almost a month after she was born that the doctor's said they could hold their daughter for the very first time.
"She's so small." Mrs. Pevensie said. The baby was hardly half the weight of her brother at birth.
"She's beautiful." Her father murmured.
"You know we still have to name her."
"Now? Is she ready?" His wife laughed at him, a suddenly carefree laugh.
"Of course, dear." They stared in amazement at their beautiful daughter. "I like Susan." Helen said after a moment's pause.
"Susan… then her name is Susan." He whispered softly. They watched softly as she slept in first her then his arms, barely stirring at the change in environment. The time they had to hold her was all too brief but there she was, alive, named, loved.
Peter crawled happily around his grandmother's feet. He never went far from her and often stopped and chatted with her. Ella simply adored looking after him. Since her husband had died she had felt that edge of loneliness creep up inside of her but spending time with her only grandson was a great joy to her. When Jack and Helen came home with a tiny bundle in their arms she started crying. She watched happily as they brought over baby Susan and showed her to Peter. Her little arm was sticking out of the blanket she was wrapped up in and Peter protectively wrapped his fist around her little finger. The adults laughed at them before the three who had most recently been living at the hospital went to get some well needed sleep. Ella pulled Peter into her lap and she could have sworn she heard him say 'sis' but that was probably just an old woman's imagination.
