One Month Later
"Hi. How's it going?" Cate greeted the shopper who entered Paula's brightly. She'd always been shy, but working in a clothing store had helped bring her out of her shell. She'd gotten more comfortable talking to people.
The pretty young woman looked about twenty. She hesitated. "Yes, actually. I'm looking for something to wear to a cocktail party."
Cate smiled. She'd developed a sense of style working at Paula's. She'd also accumulated a great wardrobe. Cate easily selected a few options and visited with the shopper as she took her back to the dressing rooms.
When Cate returned to the front of the store, she was surprised to see her mother. Laverne never stopped by. "Hi, Mom," Cate said tentatively.
"Good, you're here! I've been looking all over for you. I called Alice and Dewey," Laverne said.
"What's wrong?" Cate asked.
"You have to come with me," Laverne said, ignoring Cate's question.
"I'm working," Cate said, frowning. "Have you been drinking?"
"Tell your manager you have to leave for a family emergency," Laverne insisted.
Cate could smell alcohol on her mother's breath. "What kind of family emergency?" She demanded.
"We need to go to the hospital," Laverne said cryptically.
"Is it Abby?" Cate asked, her eyes widening in horror.
"No. Stop asking questions! There's no time. It might be too late already," Laverne said.
Cate made a face. "Too late for what? Happy hour?" She liked her job. She didn't want to lose it.
Cate's manager, Lindsay, noticed Cate arguing with someone and hurried over. "Is everything OK?"
"Yes, it's fine," Cate said quickly.
"Hi." Laverne smiled. "I'm Cate's mom."
Cate rolled her eyes. "This is my manager, Lindsay."
"Hi," Lindsay said, shaking Laverne's hand politely.
"I'm sorry, but we have a family emergency. Cate needs to come with me," Laverne said.
Cate glared at her mother.
"Of course," Lindsay said.
Cate retrieved her purse from the stockroom and then stalked out of the store angrily. "This had better be good. Someone had better be dying or something."
The color drained from Cate's face when she saw Laverne's face. "Mom, is someone dying?"
"I don't know," Laverne admitted.
"Who is it? Is it Dad?" Cate demanded.
Laverne shook her head. "No, as far as I know he's alive. I haven't heard from him in years. I don't know how to tell you this…"
"Just tell me!" Cate said.
"When I got home, there were several messages for you from a nurse at the hospital. I called to find out what was going on," Laverne said.
Cate stared at her mother expectantly.
Laverne sighed. "It's your daughter. Apparently she was born with some sort of heart condition."
Cate gasped in shock. "Is she OK?"
"No. She's been on a ventilator. They were waiting until she got strong enough for surgery. She's in surgery now and she's lost a lot of blood. She's a rare blood type," Laverne explained.
"Your blood type," Laverne said pointedly. "We need to go to the hospital so you can donate blood."
Cate swallowed. This was a lot. It had been two months since Cate had given birth.
Not a day had gone by that Cate hadn't thought about her daughter. Every time Cate saw a baby girl, she wondered if it was her daughter. Then, she told herself there was no way it was her daughter and wondered where her daughter was and what her daughter was doing.
But, she'd never wondered if her daughter was healthy. She didn't think she had to. She couldn't believe that her daughter had a heart condition. She couldn't believe she'd been living her life normally while her daughter fought for her life.
Cate didn't know what to think or how to feel. The only thing she knew was that they had to get to the hospital. She grabbed the car keys from her mom.
"Hey," Laverne protested.
"You're drunk," Cate accused. "I'm driving."
Laverne didn't argue. Cate drove as fast as she could. When they approached a yellow light, Cate sped through it. She pulled into the first parking spot she saw. It was a Handicap spot, but Cate didn't care.
Cate was out of breath by the time she reached the nurse's station. "I'm…gasp…Cate...gasp…Cassidy," Cate managed.
The nurse stared at her blankly.
"You've been calling me. My daughter's in surgery and needs blood," Cate explained.
"What's your daughter's name?" The nurse asked.
"I don't know," Cate replied. "I gave her up for adoption."
"Oh," the nurse said as realization hit her. "Yes, you can come with me."
Cate and Laverne followed the nurse into a nearby room. Cate rolled up her sleeve and offered her arm.
Cate hated needles. She realized with surprise that she wasn't scared of the needle now. She was only scared for her daughter.
Usually Cate closed her eyes while they drew blood. Seeing the needle somehow made it even worse. Now she looked at the nurse. "Is my daughter OK?"
"I don't know," the nurse replied, looking down.
Cate tried to meet the nurse's eyes desperately. She sensed there was something more. They wouldn't be drawing blood if her daughter had died, Cate reasoned.
The nurse finished. "You can go now. You can't give more blood today. If we need more, we'll let you know."
"I'm not leaving," Cate said, shocked. "I want to know how my daughter is."
"I don't know how much information I can give you," the nurse admitted.
"What do you mean? She's my daughter!" Cate protested.
"Yes, but we are only allowed to give patient information to family. I don't know what the rules are since you gave her up for adoption," the nurse explained.
"I just want to know if she's OK," Cate said softly.
The nurse nodded. "Let me check. I'll be right back."
"Did they say anything else on the phone?" Cate asked Laverne miserably.
"No," Laverne said. "This has been quite the night. I need a drink. Do you think they serve alcohol in the cafeteria?"
Cate wanted to scream. She was trying to find out if her daughter was alive and all her mother could think about was alcohol.
Cate knew it was highly unlikely that the hospital cafeteria served alcohol, but wanted to be alone so she said, "Probably. Why don't you go get a glass of wine?"
"You'll be OK?" Laverne asked, though she'd already moved toward the door.
"Yeah," Cate lied.
When Laverne left, Cate leaned against the hard wall for support. She wasn't OK at all. How could she possibly be OK?
Cate closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Her eyes fluttered open when she heard a knock.
"Come in," Cate said.
A middle-aged African American woman entered the room and smiled at Cate.
Cate couldn't bring herself to smile, but nodded politely. "Are you the doctor?"
"No. I'm Fern, your daughter's social worker," Fern replied. She extended her hand politely.
"I'm Cate," Cate said, shaking the woman's hand. "I'm sorry…my daughter's social worker? Why does she need a social worker?"
"Children who are wards of the State are assigned a social worker to look out for their best interest," Fern said.
"Wait a minute, a ward of the State?" Cate asked, confusion wrinkling her brow.
"Yes, when children enter foster care, they become wards of the State," Fern explained.
"I'm sorry. I don't understand. Foster care? They told me she'd be adopted," Cate said.
"She may still be. But, she's been in the hospital. We cannot find adoptive parents for her until she's healthy," Fern said.
Cate swallowed. "She's been here in this hospital for two months?"
Fern nodded. "Lux is very lucky. The doctor caught her heart condition early. Left untreated she could have died."
Cate frowned. "Lux?"
Fern smiled. "A nurse named her. It means light."
Cate stared at Fern blankly.
"You know, because she has blonde hair and you have dark hair," Fern explained.
"She has blonde hair?" Cate asked, smiling slightly.
Fern looked at Cate curiously.
"I never saw her," Cate admitted.
Fern smiled sympathetically.
"I knew if I saw her I would want her," Cate continued. She hadn't told anyone that yet.
"Would you like to see her now?" Fern offered.
Cate hesitated. She still feared that it would all be over if she saw her daughter. She knew she had to see her daughter to make sure she was OK. She would never be able to live with herself if she didn't. She nodded and followed Fern to the pediatric wing.
Fern led her to a basinet. Cate gasped when she saw her daughter. Lux was so little. She almost looked like a doll.
But, Lux was hooked up to a ventilator and beeping machines. A bandage covered Lux's little chest where it had been cut open that day.
Cate reached for her daughter without thinking.
"I'm afraid you can't hold her," Fern said firmly.
"She's especially susceptible to infection right now. No one can hold her," a nurse explained kindly.
"Can I touch her?" Cate asked softly.
"Yes, but you need to wash your hands and wear this," the nurse replied, offering Cate something that looked like a garbage bag with holes for her arms.
Cate obliged. She tentatively reached her hand into the basinet and gently touched her daughter's hand. Lux's tiny fingers curled around Cate's finger, squeezing.
Cate smiled. She didn't remove her hand until Lux's grip relaxed.
Cate's smile vanished when she remembered where she was. "Is she going to be OK?"
"We're doing everything we can," the nurse said, not really answering Cate's question.
"Did the surgery fix her heart?" Cate asked.
"No," the nurse said sadly. "Lux was losing too much blood. We almost lost her. We had to stop before the doctor was able to repair her heart."
"But I donated blood. She has blood now. Fix her," Cate said.
"She's not strong enough for another surgery," the nurse said.
Tears stung Cate's eyes. "So what? You're just going to let her die?"
"Of course not!" The nurse replied. "We're going to keep doing everything we can. We'll keep her on the ventilator until she gets stronger. Then, we'll try the surgery again."
"When will she be strong enough?" Cate asked.
"It varies. We take weight and vitals into consideration," the nurse replied.
"A month? A year?" Cate asked, her frustration at getting no answers boiling over.
The nurse frowned. "Probably not a month. It could be anywhere from a few months to a year."
Cate sighed helplessly. "Can't I do anything?"
The nurse smiled sympathetically. "You've already done all you can do."
"No, I haven't," Cate said sadly. She hadn't done nearly enough. She'd given birth to an innocent baby and then given her to strangers and walked away.
Cate had walked away, leaving her daughter alone in the hospital. Cate knew all too well what it felt like to be alone. She'd been alone throughout her pregnancy.
But, Lux was just a baby. She shouldn't have to go through this alone. She shouldn't have to go through this at all, Cate thought miserably.
"Your blood helped save her life," the nurse insisted.