Chapter 8: The morning after
Cornelia woke from a drug induced sleep and yawned. Just distantly, she could remember the previous night's events. The agonizing pain that had racked her, almost as strong as the guilt inside her heart that insisted she had done something wrong. The loud noises of heart monitors, nurses waiting to rush the baby away as soon as she was born. And as soon as the baby was born, the rattle of wheels and thud of running feet as the baby was hurried away without getting to see her mother.
After that, Cornelia's father and doctor had told her to sleep. Finally he had given her a sedative and escaped to visit the baby.
The baby! Cornelia sat upright and looked around, half expecting to see the baby laying in a crib beside her. But the room was completely empty. She laid back on her pillows and wondered if she was well enough to go looking for the baby.
The door eased open, and a familiar face appeared. "Hi, Cornelia." Will said quietly as she walked over to the chair beside the bed. Struggling slightly with her too-big belly, she sank down and smiled sadly. "I had a feeling you'd be up now. The doctor said he'll be in here in a minute; he has another birth to look after."
"The baby?" Cornelia asked worriedly. All strain she had felt between her and Will vanished as she recalled her preemie, now oddly absent from its place in her arms.
"She's still alive, don't worry." Will soothed her quietly, speaking in a low, soothing voice one would use to comfort a small child. "In fact, she's doing oddly well. The doctor said he thinks we might have lucked out. Her body was well formed, and the tiny lungs appear to be doing well. But he doesn't want her to get off a respirator yet, just in case."
The door opened again and admitted Cornelia's doctor. "Hi, Cornelia." He smiled gently. "How are you feeling? Sore? Tired?" He asked, washing his hands.
"Worried. Not really sore or tired." Cornelia replied nervously. "How is she?"
"Good, considering. She's been sleeping almost as much as her mother." The doctor glanced over her chart and then looked up at her. "I think we can let you sit in wheelchair and go see her."
Cornelia looked up worriedly. "Will she know I'm her mother?" She asked. "Does she understand who I am? Will she be scared?"
"Of course she knows that you're her mother! She heard your voice for 7 and a half months. She was inside you for months." The doctor wheeled a chair over to the bed and helped Cornelia slide into it. "I can't accompany you all the way down to the NICU. Do you have someone who can push the chair?"
"I will." Will said suddenly. "We're practically sisters anyway." She began to push Cornelia down to a large, spacious white nursery. It was too clean, too sterile, to be normal. Tiny babies lay in clear boxes in orderly rows.
Cornelia found herself looking into a box at a very small, pink baby. Her mouth had a clear mask over it. Eyes shut against the bright light and a tiny IV in her arm, she looked like a grounded angel.
Cornelia covered her mouth with her hand. "She's beautiful." She whispered, tears falling down her cheeks. "She's so small."
The nurse walked over and smiled at her. "She's also strong for a preemie." She soothed. "We might be able to let her get off the respirator soon."
Cornelia nodded. "May I touch her?" She whispered in a broken voice.
"Sure. Let me get everything ready." The nurse vanished, then came back and put a thin plastic lining between Cornelia's hand and the baby.
"She's warm." Cornelia whispered as she stroked the tiny chest, the tiny hands. Will smiled slightly and nodded wordlessly. Finally Cornelia looked up at the nurse. "Is she going to die?"
"No." The nurse replied gently. "She doing well. In fact, I would suggest you start thinking of names for this beautiful little girl." She smiled down at the baby. "I've never seen such a beautiful baby before."
Cornelia looked up at Will and smiled. "You might see a beautiful one here in a few months." She whispered.
And then it happened. The baby opened her eyes and squinted up at her mother, face serious.
Cornelia began to laugh. "Look at that! She has such beautiful green eyes!" She stroked the tiny hand again, smiling. "Hello, little one. Hello, Ivy."
"Is that her name? Ivy?" Will asked with interest.
Cornelia nodded. "Yes. Ivy. It suits her, don't you think?" She agreed.
Later that night, Cornelia talked with her mother, birth father, Caleb and Will over the baby.
"I decided to call her Ivy Maria Hale." Cornelia said quietly. "Do you like it?"
"Do you think it's wise to name her? If she dies--" Mrs. Hale began.
"Mom. She won't die. And if she does, for some reason, I'll still remember her. I love her too much to give her up now. I can't just act like she doesn't deserve a name!" Cornelia pleaded.
Caleb smiled. "I like it." He said, surprising everyone. "It's pretty."
Will grinned. "I think I might name the baby a name beginning with an I." She commented.
Cornelia looked out the window and smiled to herself. Finally, she felt like no one was angry at her for being a teenaged mother. She had given birth a beautiful baby girl and was okay. Caleb was finally acting like a father. She and Will weren't fighting. She knew her birth father and he was loving and kind. Somewhere nearby, Ivy slept and grew stronger. And someday soon, Cornelia would be able to carry her home again.
Cornelia looked at the scene before, thought of Ivy, and wondered where she might meet Ivy's father. But whatever happens, I think I've proved that I can handle it as long as Ivy and my family and friends are okay. She thought.
Will looked at Cornelia and grinned. "Penny for your thoughts?" She asked.
"A million dollars couldn't pay for them all!" Cornelia replied, laughing. And, despite her troubles and trials still to come, she felt...happy.