Chapter 44: Consequences Suck
January 15
Owen straddled between Amelia's room and the NICU during Ellie's initial days of life. The breathing had continued to occasionally be a problem, but Karev assured Owen and Amelia that the fluctuations were quite typical. Baby Ellie was connected to an apnea monitor and her pulse ox was constantly under surveillance. Other predictable preemie challenges continued for Ella, yet each seemed to be steadying out. Her blood pressure, borderline anemia, heart rate range and sugar levels showed solid improvement. The outlook regarding her health was positive.
Over the first few days of Ellie's life, Karev explained to the couple that his approach with newborns tended to be a little unconventional when it came to breastfeeding. He preferred working with one particular lactation consultant, Jill, the one who helped Amelia pump the day Ellie was born. She and Karev shared similar points of view. While many doctors agreed that attempting direct breastfeeding was best held off until the baby's 34 weeks gestation date, Alex and Jill had seen positive outcomes with preemies born at as young as 28 weeks. They believed that periodically allowing opportunities for the baby to attempt breastfeeding was beneficial for both mother and baby. The bonding and skin-to-skin contact were clear benefits for infants who were able to master the task and, truly, there were few to no drawbacks in simply trying periodically.
Jill arranged for Ellie's first attempt, and Amelia and Owen met her in the NICU. She reminded them how to adjust and handle all the tubes and wires attached to the baby. Except for the breathing aids, all other monitors and attachments remained on the baby. Jill was encouraging and positive, constantly affirming all involved in the experience. When Owen carefully placed Ella in Amelia's arms, the baby began rooting almost immediately. Jill celebrated and declared with a smile, "It sure looks like Ella is ready to give this first feeding idea a try."
"I'd like to stay in the room, if that's ok," Owen mentioned as he stood at Amelia's side.
Jill agreed wholeheartedly and told Amelia, "What I'd like to do is coach you on feeding just the one baby for now. Twins have a similar but different routine that we can teach you once the second baby is born. Now what you'll want to do…" Jill began explaining the logistics of breast feeding and helping Amelia place herself and the baby in relation to one another. Grabbing pillows and breasts and rearranging them both without hesitation, Jill adeptly managed the effort as the baby latched on without issue.
"Sometimes preemies can tire themselves out while nursing so we have to feed on their schedule rather than ours," Jill explained. "Smaller and more frequent feedings work better for them. For her first attempt and for a 32½ week preemie, Ella is doing very well. Sometimes preemies aren't able to coordinate sucking and breathing simultaneously until 34 or 35 weeks gestational age. Your baby appears to be a natural who will take right to it. We'll watch Ella's weight and growth. Usually, Dr. Karev will remove the NG tube after a few days of successful feeding."
Within a few feedings, Ellie was almost fully breastfeeding. Owen and Amelia attributed that to Jill's assistance and Alex's commitment to kangaroo care, where the baby and the parent were encouraged to have skin to skin contact. Since Amelia was still on bedrest to prevent labor with Baby Two, Karev and Robbins had worked out details so that Amelia and Ellie's feedings took place both in the NICU and in Amelia's room.
A few days later, Amelia and Owen felt like a routine was beginning to emerge. Ella was now six days old and already had a bundle of nicknames: Ellie, Elle, Ray, Sunshine, and Baby Girl. Oliver and Bronwyn strongly preferred Ellie, while Finley's special name for her was Sunshine. Regardless of who called her what, she was continuing to breastfeed well and to thrive. The tubes, wires, and monitors attached to her were no longer overwhelming, intimidating, or awkward. A new normal had emerged and everything attached to Ella simply became part of her reality. Assurance grew as all of Ella's preemie conditions remained stable or continued to improve.
Daily visits from Oliver became another daily routine for Amelia and Ella. Owen picked Oliver up from school and brought him to the hospital to visit Amelia. Oliver seemed to be having a difficult time adjusting to Amelia's absence. The baby didn't seem to be a threat to Oliver at all, he simply wanted to be with Amelia as much as possible.
On one particular afternoon, a doctor flagged Owen down just after the father and son pulled into a parking spot. As he headed over to the doctor to discuss a shared case, Owen clearly told Oliver to stay where he could see him. Oliver began walking on a curb next to the sidewalk where the doctors were speaking. He followed it about eight feet to the right of the colleagues, turned around, and walked on the curb about eight feet to the left of them.
As the conversation between doctors continued, Oliver's turning points unconsciously expanded. At one point, Oliver found himself following the curb as it wound around the corner. More than once, Owen called out for Ollie to turn around and remain close. When what should have been a brief consultation between two colleagues turned into an extended conversation, Oliver lost track of his boundaries. So enthralled by his ability to balance for such a length of time, Oliver was oblivious to his surroundings.
When the collegial conversation concluded, Owen looked up and realized he didn't see Oliver anywhere. Letting out a huge breath, Owen called Oliver's name but did not hear a response. Owen turned to his right and followed the curb hoping he would eventually find Oliver. After walking a quarter of the way around the hospital, Owen spotted Oliver about 25 feet in front of him. Oliver had not stepped off the curb but was now about 15 feet above the ground because the curb had remained at one level and now topped off a retaining wall that was beside the downward sloped delivery bays. Seeming completely unaware of the height, Oliver continued to walk along the curb as he hummed to himself happily.
Not wanting to startle Oliver, Owen raised his voice just a bit and called out casually, "Oliver, you need to walk about 10 more steps and then hop off the curb." Without looking at Owen or down at the ground, Oliver cheerfully agreed and chimed, "Ok, Dad." Owen quickly walked to the loading dock where the curb would soon stop. Folding his arms and looking down seriously as Oliver approached him, Owen cleared his throat for effect. Oliver bounced to Owen's legs and hugged them, completely oblivious to having strayed so far from his starting point and from the high trek he had just completed.
Owen bent down and looked firmly at his son. Oliver, puzzled by Owen's glare, backed his head up and scratched his ear, asking with honest confusion, "What?"
"What?!" Owen declared with a controlled bellow as he stood up and towered over the little boy. "Oliver Blake Hunt. Look behind you and tell me what."
Oliver lowered his eyebrows and shared a perplexed expression as he turned. "It's a curb," he raised his shoulders and responded innocently, not noticing the height because he was so focused on his winding pathway.
Grumbling under his breath, Owen knelt down very slowly and grasped Oliver's shoulders. Pointing Ollie toward the road at the loading dock, Owen ordered, "Look. The curb kept going, Oliver, but what happened to the cement next to it?"
"It swooshed way down like a backwards driveway," Oliver observed with a hint of fascination and a dramatic swing of his arm to add visual effects to his description. He still was not computing any possible reason why Owen was angry.
"Right, and that's dangerous. Do you see how far off the ground the curb becomes? It's very high. And can you see the car from here?" Owen asked firmly.
Oliver gulped, finally noticing the seriousness of the situation. He cast his eyes to his feet and mumbled softly, "No, sir."
Owen swatted Oliver's back end firmly a number of times. Afterward, he pulled Oliver's chin up so the two were eye to eye and insisted seriously, "That's not going to happen again, is it?"
Oliver, his lips quivering and his eyes holding back tears, shook his head and eeked out, "No, sir."
Owen grabbed Oliver's hand firmly and began walking back toward the car. Shocked and embarrassed, Oliver continued to look at the ground as he walked with Owen. When he saw a stray pebble, he kicked it further down his path. Oliver took quick, shallow breaths as he tried hard not to cry. With Oliver in hand alongside him, Owen strode through the Main Entrance of the hospital.
The two entered the elevator and nobody else was on it. Usually, the kids fought over who pushed the buttons. When only one child was with Owen or Amelia, that child became the designated button pusher. Oliver had relished this special part of his new after school routine. On this afternoon, however, Owen firmly pressed the elevator buttons without comment. Oliver looked up at Owen quickly, then looked down at the ground as Owen continued to firmly grasp Oliver's hand. Without bending down like he usually did when he interacted with the kids, Owen faced straight ahead and firmly asked, "What happened back there, Ollie? Do you understand why you're in trouble?"
Sniffling, Oliver softly hummed, "Mmmm Hmmm."
"What was that?" Owen asked firmly.
"Yes," Oliver sniffled as he kept looking at the floor.
"Why did I spank you?" Owen asked.
"Because I was being dangerous up high and walked too far away when you told me lots of times not to," Oliver mumbled.
"That's right," Owen confirmed. "I'm not happy with the choices you made, Oliver. We're going to go sit in my office for a few minutes before we see Mom."
Tears began to fall, and Oliver tried mightily not to whine as he began to speak, "But we're here to see her. I haven't seen her all day."
"Right. Now, because of your choices, you'll have to wait," Owen snapped. The elevator doors opened, and Owen pulled Oliver alongside him toward the office. After unlocking the door, Owen pointed to the couch and commanded, "Go climb on the couch and wait quietly. Think about what you could have done differently." Oliver laid down on his side facing the back of the sofa, hugging his arms around his bent legs and hiding his face in his knees in an attempt to conceal his crying. Owen proceeded to the chair behind his desk and began working on paperwork.
After five minutes, Owen's text tone sounded. He grabbed his phone and read a text from Amelia that said, where's my little guy? Are you stuck in traffic?
Owen looked up at Oliver, who still had his face tucked into his knees and typed out, We're in my office. He's in trouble. Might be awhile.
What'd he do?Amelia responded via text.
Owen typed out, He wandered away from me and was walking along a 15' drop off.
Owen! How did you lose sight of him?Amelia inquired.
Sighing heavily, Owen responded, was consulting with another doc. Told Ollie many times to stay close. He wandered off.
Amelia sent a response that read, Is he ok?
He's fine except for wounded pride,were the words from Owen.
Amelia sent a return message that simply displayed, ?
I spanked him;Owen typed out.
WTF, Owen?!Amelia responded instantly, then reached for her room's landline and dialed Owen's office.
Owen had no idea who might be calling him when his office phone rang. He was hoping it would give him a credible reason to extricate himself from his text argument with his furious wife. Owen answered, "Dr. Hunt."
"Why in the world would you spank one of our kids? What were you thinking?" Amelia raged.
Owen breathed in and out slowly, explaining, "I cannot really discuss that situation in detail right now, doctor."
"Bring him to me," Amelia demanded with fervor.
Owen scoffed and responded, "Absolutely not. I've got this. My issue. My response. My decision."
"I wish I could march down there right now, Owen Hunt. I cannot believe you spanked him," Amelia fumed.
Flatly, Owen responded, "It was a dangerous situation that warranted a unique and memorable response." Oliver continued to sniffle into his knees and think about how much he hated his dad with every bit of seven-year-old hatred he could gather.
"We don't spank, Owen," Amelia stated with a clipped tone.
Clearing his throat, Owen offered, "Usually, yes. I agree."
"No, not just usually. We don't spank." Amelia grumbled.
"Then I guess you should know there was one other occasion," Owen sarcastically attempted to explain in code.
"Really? Male or female?" Amelia inquired.
"The latter," Owen confessed, "in a similar situation about three months ago."
"I really can't believe you," Amelia hissed. "How dare you decide on a method of discipline as controversial as this without discussing it with me?!"
"Sometimes one has to act in the moment the best as he is able," Owen retorted firmly. All of the sudden, Alex's words from their recent conversation about Alex treating Ella without stopping to contact Owen made more sense. Feeling slightly guilty, Owen made a mental note to apologize to Alex next time they interacted.
Amelia roared back, "and, in your book, that apparently means acting without thinking."
"I'm afraid I need to cut our conversation short, doctor," Owen closed. "My son and I are here to visit my wife and daughter."
"Don't expect me to be all lovey dovey asshole. I want my boy. Drop him off with me and then make yourself scarce," Amelia growled.
Owen rolled his eyes, leaned back in his chair and looked at the ceiling. He felt Oliver's gaze upon him and glanced over to meet Oliver's eyes. Oliver looked away, sniffled, and asked meekly, "When are we going to see Mommy?"
As he stood up and walked around the desk, Owen inhaled and exhaled deeply a number of times. He knelt down in front of Oliver, who continued to face toward the back of the couch. Owen stated, "Oliver…" After a few seconds of no response, Owen repeated, "Oliver, buddy… hey, I need you to look at me."
Oliver wiped his face and nose off with his sleeve and looked very quickly at Owen before turning away. Softly and sadly, Oliver meekly mumbled, "There."
"Don't push me, Oliver. Not right now," Owen both ordered firmly and begged from his heart a bit too tenderly.
Oliver, his eyes puffy and his nose running, tentatively looked at Owen. Grabbing a tissue, Owen wiped off Ollie's face gently and looked at him with a sense of resignation. "Buddy, when you do something dangerous, you get spanked. You were there when it happened to your sister, and I talked to both of you about it that day. It's the only time it'll ever happen, remember?"
"K," Oliver mumbled, wishing the conversation was over. Oliver glanced at the office door controlling his temptation to run through it. His voice trembled as he uttered, "I want to see Mommy."
"Oliver? I need you to focus on the here and now. Look at me, please," Owen voiced. Ollie looked back at Owen silently. "You need to watch where you're going and pay attention. You know better than to wander that far away and to walk on top of a tall wall like that, right?"
The little boy nodded silently as Owen suggested, "Shall we go see your mom and Ellie?" Owen held out his hand, but Oliver put his hands in his pockets after he jumped off the sofa and strolled toward the hallway. Owen set his hand on Oliver's shoulder and the two walked down to Labor and Delivery. Throughout the walk, Oliver kept his eyes glued to the ground.
When they neared Amelia's room, Owen knew that he would soon face far more trouble than Oliver had experienced. Owen stepped through the door and was greeted with Amelia's narrow-eyed, firm-jawed death stare while Oliver received honey-soaked words of pity.
"Oliver, honey," Amelia sang with saccharine in her voice when her sad boy entered, "How's my boy?"
Without looking at Amelia, Owen picked Oliver up and set him on her bed. He then immediately headed over to pick up Ella.
Crawling up toward his mommy's head, Oliver hugged Amelia's neck with all his strength and buried his head in her chest. He quietly resumed weeping and asked, "Can I stay here with you tonight, Mommy?"
Amelia rubbed his back and bent her head to look down into his eyes, "Sweetie…what happened?"
"I wondered off on accident, I didn't stay close like Daddy said to do, and my choices wasn't safe," Oliver whimpered.
"Hmmm…" Amelia hummed.
"Then Daddy spanked me and he's mad at me because I got in trouble." Oliver explained in a normal voice before whispering, "and I don't like him anymore."
Amelia grimaced and reminded Oliver, "Well, honey, when you don't follow the rules, there are consequences. You were with Daddy and he decided what to do about it."
Oliver's bottom lip started to quiver as his ally seemed to become a traitor. He'd been hoping his mommy would go to war on his behalf. Joining her lips into a soft smile, Amelia answered, "Let's take this one step at a time. Do you want to talk more about what happened or do you want to cuddle a little first?" Oliver leaned his head into Amelia's chest and placed one hand on her baby bump. Since he was lying on his side, one of his arms was tucked underneath his body. Oliver snuck the thumb from that arm and subtly popped it into his mouth as he rested in his mommy's arms.
As Amelia stroked Oliver's hair and pulled him close to her, Owen held Ella and paced silently around the room. He stopped occasionally to gaze out the window or to kiss the baby. Every few minutes, Owen would sense Amelia watching him and he'd glance over to her. When he wasn't able to shift his gaze quickly enough, the Shepherdess death-stare greeted his anguished and exhausted blue eyes. They definitely needed to talk about what happened, but now was clearly not the time.
Amelia cleared her throat and held up a note she'd written. He stepped over and grasped it. It read, Officially, I've got your back on this as far as the kids will know, but you need to know I'm furious with you.
Owen took the note, read it, and crumpled it up. He looked at Amelia directly, tossed it into the garbage can, and stated without emotion, "Yep. Noted." His nonchalance only angered Amelia more.