January 11, 2010.
Carly was woken up at six in the morning when Hope's cries drilled through the wall that separated the two rooms. Carly reluctantly pulled herself out of bed to take care of the baby.
"C'mon, Hopey baby," Carly said sleepily, lifting the crying baby from her crib. "Time for breakfast."
She patted Hope's back as they left the room. "What do you think?" Carly asked the girl. "Stairs or elevator?"
Hope grunted and spit up. "Oh, crap." Carly frowned. "Elevator it is." Hope laughed, burying her face into her mother's neck. Carly smiled, and the elevator 'ding'ed. Spencer was asleep on the floor.
Carly rolled her eyes and shook her head jokingly, kicking Spencer lightly to wake him up. He lazily opened his eyes and caught sight of his little niece, his face automatically brightening. "A baby!" he cried out, standing. He stuck out his arms.
"Sorry, Spence, but I've got to feed her." Carly shifted Hope from her right side to her left as she entered the elevator.
"Oh. Alright. I got to hang with her last night, anyway." Spencer grinned and pressed the 'down' button.
The doors shut. "Yeah, and how did you fall asleep in the elevator, anyway?"
Spencer narrowed his eyes, trying to remember. "I think I was sitting on the floor and kind of just -- fell asleep. It was late, remember."
Carly nodded, smiling at the strange antics Spencer wound up in. Hope yelled. "Hush, baby," Carly cooed, rocking Hope. "We're almost downstairs. Can you set up the changing area in the kitchen?" she asked Spencer, who shrugged a yes.
The elevator doors opened, and Spencer headed off to his room to get the little folding side table and baby needs they used downstairs for Hope. He carried it all to the kitchen, where he set it down beside the table. Carly searched through the refrigerator for formula, Hope in hand. "Spence, did you wash the bottles last night?"
"What? Oh, yeah." Spencer put a thin cushion down on the folding table. "They're by the sink. Here, toss me the kid."
"She's got a name," Carly remarked, handing her brother the baby.
"She does not," Spencer cooed, laying Hope down on the table and poking her in the stomach until she giggled and tried to push his hands away. He changed her diaper, getting baby powder everywhere. Spencer carried Hope to her high chair, then went back to the changing station to toss the dirty diaper.
"Holy mother of pearl," he remarked, holding the soiled undergarment away at arm's length and pinching his nose. "But can she clean out her system." He threw it into the trashcan.
"Ew, Spencer!" Carly said, putting the baby bottle in the microwave. "Not in the kitchen trash!"
"Oh, come on, Carls. It's not like it's unsanitary."
"It's the kitchen!"
"I just changed her diaper in the kitchen, too."
"Yeah, but I'd rather not smell that all day. Just tie it up in a grocery bag and take it to the dumpster. Please?"
"Fine," Spencer whined. "Oh, and you've got a bunch of homework to finish today."
Carly frowned. "You've got a bunch of homework to finish today."
"Seriously, Carls," Spencer called out from his bedroom, where he was searching for a plastic grocery bag. "You're behind and the homeschool people said you've got to catch up before the end of the semester."
The mircowave beeped, and Carly pulled the baby bottle of formula out, testing its temperature with her hand. "Dammit, too hot," she mumbled.
"You watch your mouth," Spencer teased, having returned from his room with a trash bag. He tossed in the diaper from the trashcan and tied it tightly. "Let's see you try and escape that, Stink."
Carly patted his head. "Good boy! Now wash your hands."
"Yes, Mom."
Carly froze, the reality of this crashing down on her again. She rubbed her brow. "God," she said. "For that to be a joke again."
Spencer put an arm around her. "It's alright, kiddo. Just breathe."
Carly nodded, trying to do so, but with each breath she could feel her airways constricting. Her heart raced, and she coughed, gasped, wheezed. She pushed Spencer, who was standing beside her, frozen. She hadn't had an asthma attack since she was seven.
"I--can't--" she managed, and Spencer felt adrenaline rush through his veins as he ran off to his bathroom cabinet, where he kept Carly's ancient inhaler. He wasn't sure if it would still work, but he prayed that it would.
When he rushed back into the kitchen, Hope was crying and Carly was lying on the floor, holding onto her chest, her face turning blue. Spencer kneeled beside her and put the inhaler into her mouth, pushing the top to emit the bitter medicine. He waited to notice any kind of reaction from his sister, and each second that ticked by seemed to take an eternity. It wasn't until Carly's chest slowly began to rise and fall rhythmically that he calmed down and could feel his feet on the ground beneath him.
Spencer wrapped his arms around Carly. "Don't scare me like that again."
Carly chuckled lightly. "I don't plan these things, Spencer."
Hope still cried at her high chair. "Oh," Carly said, letting go of Spencer and standing up. "I haven't fed her." She pushed herself past her brother to get the baby's bottle from the counter.
Spencer sighed. "Are you sure?"
"Of course I'm sure I haven't fed her," Carly answered, picking Hope up from her chair to give her the bottle.
"No, I mean -- are you sure you can handle this?"
Carly cradled Hope in her arms as she made her way to the couch. "Yes, Spencer, I'm fine! And besides, who else would take care of her?"
"There's always -- "
"I can't put up my baby for adoption, Spence. You would cry more than I would."
"What about -- "
"No way in hell I'm letting Griffin have her. I'm telling you, I've got this under control. She's four months old. I'm still learning."
"I'm just saying, Carls." Spencer sat beside her on the couch. "You get attacks when you're too stressed. Just be careful, okay?"
"I'm being careful, Spencer! And asthma attacks aren't that big of a deal. You were here and I was alright."
"But what if I'm not here, Carly? What will you do then?" He put an arm around her.
Carly wiped her eyes. "Can we please not talk about this now?"
He rubbed her arm. "Okay, kiddo. I understand. But you're gonna have to talk soon, and I'll be here."
"Thanks." Carly forced a smile. "It's these mood swings, I tell you. They're not very fun."
"I'll bet. Listen, I'm going to go get some stuff from the store for Hope. Do you want anything?"
"Uhm," Carly looked down at her hands, one holding the baby, the other holding a bottle. "A baby monitor. It'll be easier to make sure she's okay while she sleeps."
Spencer nodded, grabbed his keys, and pulled on a sweatshirt over his pajamas.
"You're not getting dressed?"
Spencer scoffed. "This look is all the rage in Paris, little sister. I'll be back."
He left the apartment, and Carly watched her daughter drink from the bottle, her brown eyes slowly closing as she got more full. Carly smiled down at her. "You're the sweetest little thing I've ever seen," she cooed. "You're worth it all, baby. All of it, okay?"
Hope soon stopped sucking on the bottle, and Carly tossed a towel over her shoulder to burp the baby. "You want a nap now? Alright. I'll give you a bath later so you can look pretty before you go out on the town, you little heartbreaker."
She carried her up the stairs to her cheery pink bedroom. She set her down in her crib, a big blob of purple pajama in the middle of the yellow and pink striped sheet. Carly pulled up the rocking chair beside the crib and stuck her hand through the bars to rub Hope's back.
"Rock-a-bye baby, on the tree top," she whispered. "When the wind blows, the cradle will rock. When the bough breaks, the cradle will fall. And down will come baby, cradle and all." She stopped, smiled. "But I'll catch you."
Oh the movie never ends, it goes on and on and on and on.
I haven't had an asthma attack in like a year and a half, so I'm hoping that I've remembered how crappy they are and captured that for Carly.
And again, I'm open to suggestions on how I can fix this, if need be. You guys can be helpful, since I'm not a teen mom and I've never even held a baby before...