Hope you enjoy…. X
It was almost 3am, the Sunday morning that Lyra had finally shown signs of waking. She'd been unconscious since the Friday afternoon.
She moaned softly, moving to sit up. I instinctively reached out to stop her. She'd tear the new IV equipment if she tried to do anything now.
'Hey, hey, sshh. It's OK, it's OK… just calm down. Take it nice and easy.'
I placed a gentle kiss on her left cheek and leaned over, whispering in her ear.
'Sweetheart, you've only just woke up.'
My hand caught her wrist, and I rubbed a soothing circle on her arm. It wasn't working. She had purple shadows under her eyes and her face was chalk white. I fiddled round for a syringe, which I leaned over and pricked her arm with sharply but briefly.
I held her as I watched her slump, and her eyes heavily close. I propped her up on her pillows and tucked her under the covers. I tenderly stroked her forehead and her hair, rubbing at my tired eyes with my right hand.
I was tired myself – but Lyra came first – at any cost.
Was this what being a mother felt like? I had no children of my own and I couldn't imagine what Deena must feel like!
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