Story: Phoenix
Chapter 25
Disclaimer: See Chapter 1
Previously: When Jed surprised Abbey with a romantic evening in place of the annual Dartmouth Winter Carnival Ball, the couple enjoyed their first night alone together in months
Summary: Abbey shares a moment with her youngest daughter; Jed and Abbey tell Patti Zoey's middle name; Zoey finally goes home; Abbey asks Father Cavanaugh a favor
Abbey weaved through the colorfully tangled mess above the small crib that had been her daughter's private sanctuary for the better part of a week. Stronger and bigger than ever before, Zoey had been moved out of her incubator and into an adjoining nursery as her condition rapidly improved, surpassing even the most optimistic medical expectations.
She would be kept in the neonatal ICU until at least the end of February, a team of neonatologists had initially told Jed and Abbey. And even then, they cautioned, she would probably be discharged with a tank of oxygen. Sixty-two days later, on the second day of February, the youngest Bartlet proved them wrong. Armed with the same steely determination that coursed through her parents' veins, she shattered the questionable prognosis and emerged as a seven-pound infant, ready to continue her recovery at home.
During this visit, Abbey didn't have to maneuver around an obstacle course of machines and tubes in order to get to Zoey. This time, the only thing blocking her path was a web of stray strings descending from the helium balloons that floated just above her bed.
Abbey moved them slightly so she could glance down at the wiggly baby. "Hi, Sweetheart."
Zoey looked up at her through a pair of beautiful green eyes and cooed at the sight of her mother, one of the few people she actually recognized.
"Are you ready to go home? You are, aren't you?" Abbey smiled at her daughter as the first layer of tears fogged her vision. "I'm so ready to take you home, Zo. I'm so ready."
She pulled over the same uncomfortable metal chair she had been using for the past two months, but as she took a seat, it occurred to her that something was different. It didn't seem the least bit uncomfortable today.
"I know you don't understand a word I'm saying, but you're looking right at me, so I hope somewhere in my face, you can see how much love I have for you. I hope it's just radiating from my eyes because I don't think I could express it even if you could understand. I love you so much, Zoey."
Logically, she knew Zoey wasn't responding to her declaration, but it didn't stop the warm tingle that invaded her senses when her baby girl stretched out her tiny arms and squealed cheerfully.
"Some people believe that children choose their parents. I don't know if that's true, but if it is, someday, you'll have to tell me why you chose me because I'm at a loss. I don't know why I was picked, but I'm so happy I was."
Torn by the guilt she had harbored for so long, her mascara flowed in a light trail of tears down her face. She swiped away the moisture with her fingers.
"When I was pregnant, your daddy told me that you were our little Phoenix. He's probably already told you that story and if he hasn't, don't worry, he will."
Zoey let out a big breath and made a sound resembling a soft baby giggle.
"It's okay to laugh. He is the storyteller in the family. He'll tell you all kinds of wonderful stories and then he'll retell them and retell them and retell them until you're so sick of them, you'd be thrilled if he never told you another story ever again. But when that happens, do me a favor and don't say anything. Just sit back and enjoy them and remind yourself how blessed you are to have such an extraordinary man as your father."
Zoey suddenly stilled as if listening attentively. Abbey assumed she was probably focusing on the way her mother's mouth moved with the words.
"Anyway, when he tells you the story of the Phoenix, listen closely because the Phoenix was a beautiful bird that early Christian authors used as a symbol of immortality to represent the idea that life is the most precious thing in the world. Every 500 years, the Phoenix burned itself and then a new Phoenix was born. The baby bird rose out of the ashes of its parent even stronger and tougher than the one before it. Every time the life cycle continued and a new Phoenix was born, it strengthened the entire species. Just like you. Your birth and your life has changed our entire family. It's made us all stronger - your sisters, your father, and especially me. You've strengthened my heart and you've strengthened my faith like you wouldn't believe."
She changed her tone slightly, the seriousness fading into a bit of levity.
"That isn't exactly how your dad will tell the story. He'll say you're our little Phoenix. You're our proof that our love can rise out of the ashes of turmoil and despair, or some such nonsense. And when he tells you that, you just smile at him, then turn a private wink in my direction and you and I will silently bask in the glory of the knowledge that my interpretation is actually the right one."
When Zoey crinkled her forehead and began to fidget restlessly, Abbey stood up and reached into the bed, tucking her hands underneath her frame to lift her out of the crib.
"I can already tell you're going to be a Daddy's girl. You started whining the second I teased him."
She cradled Zoey into her arms, elevating her head and staring directly into her eyes.
"One more thing. I'm sorry. When you were inside of me, I'm sorry I didn't take better care of you. I'm sorry you had to spend your first two months on this planet inside a hospital. I'm so sorry. I swear I'm going to make it up to you, even if it takes the rest of my life."
She raised the infant into a vertical hold, cupping her small head in her palm. A few feet away, Nurse Patti stood quietly, admiring the scene in front of her. There were times in her career when a parent's love touched her so deep inside her soul that it made her weak in the knees and nearly brought her to tears. This was one of those times. She was reminded of the past two months, of all those nights she came in to the NICU, on her own time, to give Abbey a sounding board to air her frustration. She recalled every hour she worked off the clock so she could personally check in on Zoey and assure the on-duty nurse was keeping her comfortable.
Like Abbey and Jed, Patti sobbed over Zoey's bed each time the baby cried out and squirmed against the sharp point of a needle pricking her tiny veins, each time she was scared by the bright lights that surrounded her and penetrated her skin to treat her jaundice, each time she was taken from the safety of the people she knew for a battery of tests that frightened her and sometimes even hurt her.
From the moment she was born, Zoey had been clinging to life with the tips of her fingers, a defenseless newborn too weak to even cry. Those first few days, her cries were barely heard. They were short and ragged. More like little squeaks, the doctors said, than a baby's cry. It disturbed Patti to know the infant's only form of communication was stifled by underdeveloped lungs. She couldn't count on Zoey's sounds to alert her to her pain or discomfort. Instead, she had to rely on the baby's face because quite often, across Zoey's rosy little cheeks, fell silent, voiceless tears.
Then, things began to change and Patti wept tears of joy when Zoey began to show miraculous signs of improvement. She wept on Christmas Day when the baby finally received the comfort she had been longing for in her parents' arms. She wept two weeks later when Jed was allowed to feed his daughter for the very first time.
It had been a long, tiring journey filled with days and nights of constant medical attention and endless nurturing touches from her nurses, as well as her parents, to get her to the point she was at now. It all led to this.
"Well, you look like a mother who's taking her baby home today." Patti took a few steps towards Abbey, her trepidation fairly visible for intruding on such an intimate moment.
Abbey greeted her with an inviting smile. "It's amazing, isn't it? It's my dream come true. I just have to remind myself that it's for real. You know, up until yesterday, I was terrified of assembling her crib."
"Oh?"
"I was so worried that if I did that maybe she'd take a turn for the worst..." She cut herself off, unable to even contemplate the notion of tempting fate. "Finally, last night, Jed and I stayed up all night to put it up and I just sat there well into the morning, staring at it, picturing her moving around inside it. I can't believe I get to take her out of here."
"It is for real, Abbey, and Zoey's not going to take a turn for the worst. You're past that now."
"I know."
"Jed's finishing up the paperwork and then you should be good to go." Patti lovingly stroked Zoey's cheek with her thumb. "You have all the doctor's instructions?"
"Yes and I just renewed my infant and child CPR certification last week, I made an appointment with Dr. Hanson for a follow-up on Friday, and I know exactly what to look for in regard to developmental complications. Should I detect any abnormality, I'll be back here before you know it."
"She's lucky to have you as a mother."
Abbey shook her head. "You have that backwards. I'm lucky she's my daughter."
"You know about the NICU reunion this summer?"
"I do." She bent her knees in a steady bounce after a series of intermittent whimpers from an impatient Zoey. "By then, I'll have resumed my residency, hopefully, so you can remind me should I forget."
"Oh, I will. We'll want this little angel here for that special day."
Jed approached from behind them, surprising both women as he wrapped an arm around Abbey's waist. "You ready?"
"Just about."
"Did you tell her?"
"Not yet."
Their sly grins pointed at her, Patti eyed the couple suspiciously. "Tell me what?"
"When Jed and I named Zoey, we didn't have a middle name picked out. And now we do."
"What is it?"
"Patricia." Jed's smile widened as Patti crossed her hands over her chest. Her eyes began to shine and a faint blush blended in to her creamy white complexion.
"Oh my God. I don't know what to say."
"Say you're definitely coming to her Christening."
"I wouldn't miss it." She leaned forward to place a tender kiss on Zoey's cheek. Her fingers ran along the baby's arm immediately afterwards. "Thank you."
Abbey reached around the nurse's neck and pulled her into a hug. "We're the ones who owe you a big thank you. In fact, we owe you more. Much, much more."
"I just did my job."
"No you didn't. You went way beyond the call of duty," Jed added with a light handshake that led to a friendly embrace. "Thank you. From the bottom of our hearts, thank you."
He backed away and the three exchanged one last smile before Jed followed Abbey out of the NICU.
The ride home was a silent one. Abbey sat in the back with Zoey while Jed drove cautiously, slowing down to a crawl as he hit curves, turns, and speedbumps. His feet barely touched the gas pedal, his average speed never even approached the speed limit, and his hands clutched the steering wheel tightly - the same way they had when he and Abbey brought Ellie home from the hospital, similar to the way he lightheartedly ordered the hands of the taxi driver who chauffeured them with newborn Lizzie through the streets of London.
Already, a half hour had passed and what was supposed to be ten-minute drive hadn't ended. Abbey didn't mind though. She rested her arm on Zoey's infant carseat and stared straight ahead, stealing a glance in the rearview mirror every now and then to see Jed's big blue eyes looking back at her.
He braked to a halt just short of the driveway, laughing proudly at Liz and Ellie jumping up and down, each holding a Crayola-painted sign to welcome their baby sister. "Look at our girls."
"They're great, aren't they?"
The girls ditched the posters and ran towards the car as soon as Jed peaked the top of the cement slope and parked in front of the garage. They hovered beside Jed and followed him to Abbey's door, anxious to help their parents fumble with the latch to the carseat to retrieve Zoey.
"Can I hold her?" an exuberant Lizzie asked. It was a far cry from the apprehensive way she initially reacted to baby Ellie.
"Me too!" Ellie echoed her big sister.
t"You can both hold her after we get inside and you wash your hands. She's still a little weak and susceptible to germs." Jed carried Zoey. Liz and Ellie guarded him on either side while Abbey and her parents trailed a few steps behind.
"What's supedible, Daddy?" Ellie looked up at him curiously and sped up her pace to keep up.
"Sus-cept-ible. It means she can get sick very easily." Jed delivered Zoey to Mary's waiting arms.
"We don't want to make her sick."
"That's why you have to be careful, Sweetheart." Abbey bent down to Ellie's level and brushed the bangs out of her face. "Go wash your hands."
"Okay!"
She chuckled as Ellie excitedly ran down the hall towards the bathroom. Beside her, Mary and James took turns joyously passing Zoey off to one another, already praising their youngest granddaughter with words of adoration.
Jed snuck up on Abbey's other side and tweaked her shoulder to get her attention. "Are you okay?"
"Can you handle things here for a while?"
"Where are you going?"
"I have an errand to run."
"What kind of errand?"
"I'll tell you about it when I get back." She gave him a kiss on his lips and headed out the front door without further explanation.
Just as Abbey had said before, Zoey's life had strengthened her faith. Never had she felt as grateful to a higher power as she had when watching her healthy, happy family gather around the newest - and smallest - member of the Bartlet clan. She knew it was time now to reclaim her spiritual identity, something she had pretty much neglected for the past few months. She needed to rebuild her trust in God and rely, once again, on the religious guidance that had been her protective stronghold since she was a little girl.
This was something Jed couldn't help her do. It was something that could only be done by her.
When she walked through the familiar doubledoors of The Immaculate Heart of Mary, she was confronted with a multitude of memories. This was a familiar church, the place where she, Jed, Ellie, and Lizzie found solace every Sunday morning, the place where Lizzie took her First Communion, where Ellie attended Sunday School, the place where Zoey would be baptized.
She felt secure in this place and as she roamed the halls searching for the man who could offer her the reprieve she was seeking, she realized the safety of the church wasn't in the structure of the building. It was in the spirituality that had been awakened inside her.
"Abbey." Father Tom Cavanaugh removed his glasses and set them on his desk as he glanced up at the guest who had knocked on his open door.
"I'm sorry for just stopping by."
"It's not a problem. Please have a seat."
Abbey stepped in and sat down in front of him. Her legs crossed and her hands clasped on her lap, she smiled. "Hi."
"How's Zoey?"
"She's good. We brought her home today."
"I'm very happy to hear that. We've all been praying for her."
"Thank you." Abbey lowered her head as if ashamed to respond. "There's something I want to ask you."
"You know, about six weeks ago, she was very, very sick and I suggested to Jed that you might want to have her baptized right there in the hospital. We could have even done it in the NICU. But he dismissed the idea."
"It was probably because of me."
Father Cavanaugh stood up and walked to the front of his desk. He moved one of the side chairs so he could sit beside her. "It was. You lost your faith, Abbey."
"I didn't lose my faith. Not entirely. We named her Zoey because I still had some hope of divine intervention. And I prayed. Not as much as I used to, but there were times when I said a prayer. I didn't exactly lose my faith. I just wasn't ready to celebrate it."
"And you are now?"
"We planned her Christening right away, didn't we?"
"Yes, I guess you did."
Abbey rose to her feet and turned from the priest. "It was just hard. It was so hard to believe in God when we were dealt blow after blow after blow since last summer. I felt like we were being punished and I didn't know why."
"That's how Jed felt too."
Surprised, she spun around to face him. "What?"
"You weren't the only one who questioned your faith. Jed came to see me after you were assaulted and again after they found a glove at the crime scene. He felt guilty for not protecting you, powerless for not having the answers, and he thought that perhaps this was God's punishment for something he had done."
"That's ridiculous. He hasn't done anything."
"And neither have you. This wasn't God's doing. You both know that."
"For the past two months, I feel like I've been holding my breath, like I've been expecting the worst because I'm no longer used to hoping for the best. When you feel like that, it's not always easy to be rational."
Tom approached her, his open hands eager to hold hers. "My Dearest Abigail, it is easy when it comes to Him. You just have to believe that He isn't going to let you down."
"I do believe that. It took me a while, but I do."
"Sure, right now."
"What?"
"It isn't difficult to have faith when things are good. What matters is what you do with it when things aren't. That's how you measure your commitment to Him. It's okay to be angry. It's okay to turn away from the Church if you need a break now and then, as long as you come back. That is why you're here, isn't it?"
"Yes," Abbey adamantly replied. "I'm working on getting back to where I was before last summer. It may take a little while, but in the meantime, we have Zoey's Christening coming up and there's something I have to do before the ceremony. I was hoping you'd help me with it."
"What's that?"
Her raw emotions slowly seeped out through her glassy eyes. She paused then to clear her throat and summon a strong level of energy behind her words. "Will you hear my confession?"
TBC