I do not own Bates Motel.
But, in some ways, I do own a Dylan. And I love him so much.
Yeah, Whatever
The Most Loved Baby in the World
"Dylan, she's so beautiful."
It was only the fiftieth time she'd said it.
"Yeah, she is."
Only the fiftieth time he'd agreed.
"So are you."
And he looked forward to saying it at least fifty more times.
Just that day alone.
How did I get so lucky?
Emma Decody Massett sat in her lumpy hospital bed, swathed in her vulmunious, cumbersome hospital gown.
Covered by a thin, itchy hospital blanket.
Hair atangle.
Magnesium sulfate intravenously coursing its way through her.
Lowering her blood pressure, eradicating her pre-eclampsia.
Immunosuppressants dampening her defensive system enough to allow her transplanted CF free lungs to continue drawing oxygen easily into her body, sending out carbon dioxide.
Womb still shedding its nine month in-the-making lining.
Stretched and pained lady parts soothed by a compress of witch hazel and aloe vera.
Breasts already beginning to swell and ache with mother's milk she would never to be able to safely feed her daughter.
And none of that seemed to matter to her now.
As she held, caressed, and cooed over the tiny newborn baby in her arms.
Little Katie Decody Massett.
Four weeks premature.
Five pounds, fourteen ounces.
Eighteen and a half inches long.
So small.
So delicate.
So Decody.
And breathing just fine on her own now, thank you very much.
Holding her own body temperature.
Being unleashed on the world.
She had ten fingers and ten toes.
Blond fuzzy hair and blue eyes.
And a young mother and father who loved her very, very much.
Other people cared for her too.
Will, the proud granda' had held and wept with joy over the tiny babe who had slept peacefully in his arms.
And softly quoted poetry to her.
"And in thy wee eyes, the entirety of the universe contain."
"Hardy?"
"Nah, Decody. Too special a moment for anything else."
Friends.
"Hey, Emma, congratulations! This gift card is from everyone in Art History!"
"Thank you, Jane!"
Colleagues.
"Oh, Dylan, she's just beautiful!"
"Thanks, Tina."
Good, kind people.
Come and gone.
And now just them.
Emma, Dylan, and Katie cradled up together on the narrow bed.
Their little family.
The dad who had never had a real father.
The mom who had never had a real mother.
And the child herself.
Who now, from the very beginning, had, and would always have, the love and joy and acceptance of both.
I love you, Emma.
I love you, Katie.
I love you both so much.
She took to the bottle quite easily.
"Oh my, two ounces! Who's a hungry girl?"
Dylan was somewhat taken aback . . .
"Uh, Nurse?"
. . . by the first meconium diaper.
But they both . . .
"Oooh, what a strong cry!"
. . . were pleasantly amazed by the strength and vitality coming from . . .
"Who's a big girl, Katie? Who's a big girl? Yes, you are."
. . . their tiny little miracle.
They sent them home.
Home.
To a place where it was just them.
Only them.
No doctors or nurses.
No machines or food service.
Well . . .
"Thought you might enjoy a homemade shepard's pie, baby girl."
"Oh, thanks, Dad! Do you want to come in and see Katie?"
"Welllll, maybe for just a second."
Gracious wink, care-lined face softening.
"There's the wee one. Hello, Katie."
. . . wasn't entirely true.
"Hey, saw your 'Welcome Baby' balloons on the mailbox. Thought you might like a smoked salmon and potato chowder."
"Wow, Liesle, thanks! Would you like to come in and meet Katie?"
"Oh . . . maybe just a peek."
The wellwishers brought food, diapers, clothing, gift cards and love.
They brought advice.
"Careful with that paci. She'll never let go of it."
They offered their help.
"May I feed her a bottle?"
And just generally . . .
"Oh how precious!"
. . . loved the baby.
Happy.
Tired.
And eventually . . .
"We're just next door. Call on us anytime!"
. . . glad to finally be . . .
"Thanks, we appreciate that."
. . . alone.
"It's so quiet."
"I know."
And then they lay down together in Dylan and Emma's bed.
And fell asleep together.
Short and sweet, hope you enjoyed it!
Thanks to WordWeaver81 and Lana Brown for reviewing!