RoomHate Part 35

"I don't know." I said, my voice barely audible.

There was a long moment of silence as I listened to his breathing. Then, he finally spoke, "I can't even see the faces of the people in the audience. When I'm singing, I'm singing to you, counting down the days till I come home. Wouldn't that just be a f.u.c.king hoot if there was nothing left to come home to."

Why haven't you told me you loved me?

I'd really p.i.s.sed him off. I needed to end the call before I said something further that I'd regret.

"You have two big shows coming up. You can't afford to get all stressed out. I'm sorry for causing a fight."

"I'm sorry, too."

"I'm gonna try to get some sleep."

"Alright," he said.

"Good night."

"Good night."

After we hung up, I had a hard time falling back to sleep. Ending the call on bad terms made me feel like s.h.i.+t. I thought I couldn't feel any worse.

The events of the following morning would make the previous night's argument seem vastly insignificant.

Call it mother's intuition.

Something woke me up, even though it was quiet. The clock showed nearly 4AM.

As I tried to fall back to sleep a few minutes later, what sounded like light wheezing came through the baby monitor; you could barely hear it.

Panicking, I hopped out of bed so fast that it made me lightheaded. Running down the hall to Bea's room, it felt like my heart was in my mouth as I practically tripped over my own feet.

Everything seemed to be happening so fast, yet at the same time, they were the longest, scariest moments of my life. Bea was struggling to breathe, her little eyes looking up at me helplessly. She was choking but unable to cough. My mind raced as I scrambled to remember the steps from the infant CPR cla.s.s I'd taken back in Providence.

Turning her face over my forearm, I held her jaw with one hand to support her head. I slapped her back five times between her shoulder blades. She still couldn't breathe, and nothing came out.

Turning her face up, I placed two fingers in the middle of her chest and pressed down in quick thrusts. The object still wouldn't dislodge. I ran with her to my room to grab my phone and dialed 911. I couldn't even remember what I'd said to the operator because when Bea became unresponsive, I was losing my own ability to breathe.

I alternated between back blows and chest compressions as the dispatcher guided me. The object finally flew out of her mouth, and I realized it was one of the small bulbs from my sweater. It must have fallen into her crib.

While the bulb had come out, Bea was unconscious.

The next thing I knew, sirens were blaring. I ran downstairs with her to let them in. Men rushed into the room. They began performing CPR on my baby girl.

My entire life hung in the balance as I watched helplessly, paralyzed by fear. It was no different than being unconscious myself.

When one of the EMTs indicated that she was breathing again, it was as if I'd come back from the dead. Tears streaming down my eyes blinded me from getting a clear view as they put her onto a stretcher and directed me to get into the ambulance. Because she'd been unconscious for so long, she needed to be taken to the hospital for treatment and to ensure that there wasn't any brain damage or internal injuries.

Still in my sleep sweats with no coat, I sat in the ambulance alongside her as one of the men held an oxygen mask over her face.

Too shook up to speak, I typed out a series of choppy texts to Justin.

Bea is alive.

Choked on a small ornament.

Got it out.

EMTs performed CPR.

In ambulance heading to hospital.

I'm scared.

Within seconds, my phone rang. It had to be one-thirty in the morning in L.A.

Justin's voice was shaky. "Amelia? I got your message. Oh my G.o.d. Is she okay?"

"I don't know. She's conscious and breathing. I just don't know if there was any other damage."

"Can you see her? Is she with you?"

"Yes. She's got an oxygen mask over her face, but her eyes are open. I think she's scared."

I heard rustling then he said, "I'm getting on the next flight out there."

Still in shock, I was silent.

His voice seemed to be fading into the distance. "Amelia? Are you there? Hang in there, baby. She's going to be okay. She will."

"Okay," I whispered through my tears.

"Where are they taking her?"

"Hasbro Children's Hospital in Providence."

"Call me as soon as you know anything."

"Alright."

"Be strong, Amelia. Please."

CHAPTER 21.

Those first few hours waiting with Bea in the intensive care unit were excruciating, truly the scariest of my life.

They had her hooked up to an IV and were giving her oxygen. The doctors ran a series of tests to check for internal injuries and neurological problems. Apparently, after respiratory failure, there could actually be delayed brain injury that wasn't apparent right away. It would be a while before all of the results came in.

With no clear prognosis, my silent prayers were non-stop. I begged G.o.d to spare my baby from any irreversible damage. Bea was sleeping a lot, probably exhausted from all of the trauma, so it was hard to gauge how she was really doing.

She was able to open her eyes, though, and I had to be grateful for that and for the fact that she was alive and breathing. Thank G.o.d I'd randomly woken up when I did. If I had gotten to her room even a minute later, the outcome could have been very different. I couldn't even bear to think about that. Someone was definitely watching over us last night. Until I had answers, I had to just focus on the positive-the fact that she was alive-and continue to pray.

It was mid-morning now, and I hadn't moved from my spot at Bea's side. I was afraid to even go to the bathroom so as not to miss the doctor coming in with information. A nice nurse finally forced me to go get something to drink and to use the bathroom. She promised to watch Bea and a.s.sured me that nothing would happen while I was gone.

In the bathroom just off of the nurse's station, tears began to pour out of my eyes. Riddled with guilt, I was finally losing it. If it weren't for that stupid sweater and my carelessness, none of this would have ever happened. How could I not have checked her crib before I put her down? Forcing myself to get it together, I needed to put on a strong front before returning to my daughter. She was intuitive; I couldn't let her sense my fear.

The doctor came in shortly after I returned to my spot at Bea's bedside.

"Ms. Payne..."

I stood up, feeling the weight of my heavy, terrified heart. "Yes?"

"We just received the results of the tests on her internal condition. There are no internal injuries aside from a slight fracturing of the ribs, which will heal on its own. Her neurological a.s.sessment seems okay, too, but that's what I want to watch over the next day before we can consider releasing her. I no longer think she needs to be in the intensive care unit, so we're going to move her to a regular room on one of the main floors."

A ma.s.sive sense of relief washed over me. "Doctor, thank you. Thank you. I could hug you. Can I hug you?" When he nodded uncomfortably, I embraced him. "Thank you so much."

"It could have been very serious. We see this very same scenario end differently all too often. Babies or toddlers choking on grapes, hot dogs, small toys. You're very lucky."

After the doctor left, I typed out a text to Justin.

Thank G.o.d! The doctor thinks she's going to be okay. They want to watch her for at least the next twenty-four hours, though. I'm so happy right now!

There was no response.

Soon after, they moved us to a new room on the third floor. Lying in her new bed, Bea had her eyes open and looked confused as she gazed up at the panels of fluorescent lights on the ceiling. She seemed alert, but not her typical happy self. She was probably wondering what the h.e.l.l she was doing here.

They told me I could hold her again. Even though she'd been getting vitamins and fluids through an IV, they suggested I feed her. I'd been giving her more formula than breastmilk lately, but I chose to nurse her because I knew it would comfort her. I was relieved that she was eating with no problem. With every minute that pa.s.sed, I became more confident that my baby was going to be okay.

She had to be.

After I returned Bea to her bed, Sh.e.l.ly, the nurse, came in to check her vitals. So focused on everything Sh.e.l.ly was doing, I almost didn't notice him standing there.

Justin was in the doorway, his chest rising and falling as he took in the sight of Bea lying in the hospital bed. Even though he'd said he was getting on a plane, I hadn't heard anything from him for the past several hours and wasn't sure if he'd been able to get a flight. His hair was a mess, and his eyes were red. Despite looking ragged and almost strung out, he was still stunningly handsome.

My heart leapt. "Justin."

He said nothing and hadn't taken his eyes off Bea as he walked slowly toward the bed. He looked like he was in shock to see her lying there, looking so weak. "She's okay?"

"We think so, yes. You didn't get my texts?"

His eyes still glued to Bea, he shook his head. "No. No, I was on the plane, and my phone died. I took the first flight I could get out of LAX and came straight here."

Sh.e.l.ly looked at him. "Are you her father?"

Justin reached his hand out to Bea's cheek and gently rubbed it as he said, "Yes." His answer was a shock. Chills ran through me when he looked at me and repeated, "Yes, I am."

When he turned his attention back to her, his red eyes became filled with moisture. In all the years I'd known him, I had never seen Justin shed a single tear. He sat down in the seat on the other side of Bea.

Sh.e.l.ly noticed that Justin had started to cry, and said, "I'll give you some privacy."

When the door clicked behind her, Justin lowered his face into the bed and kissed Bea lightly on the cheek. Still equal-parts stunned and touched at his proclaiming himself her father, I waited for him to speak. It took a while for the words to come. He just stared at her, a look of awe and relief ever so slowly replacing the shock from earlier. I knew he noticed that she wasn't her normal self. It was hard not to see it. Bea would have been smiling or giggling at him by now. Instead, she was merely awake but quiet. I hoped it was just because she hadn't seen him in a while and not a sign of something more serious.

"I love you, b.u.mblebee. I'm sorry it's taken me this long to tell you." He wiped his eyes then turned to me. "I've never been more scared in my life, Amelia. I was afraid something would happen to her before I could get here, that I'd never see her smile again, that I'd never have a chance to tell her how much I want to be her father. The whole flight here, I prayed to G.o.d, bargained with him, that if she turned out to be okay, I wouldn't let another second go by without telling her I loved her. The thing is...even without my saying it...she already thinks I'm her Daddy. I know I'm not her biological father, but she doesn't know that. Blood doesn't make someone a father anyway. What makes me her father is that she chose me. She owned me from the moment she first smiled at me. And while that used to scare the s.h.i.+t out of me, I couldn't imagine life without her now."

"I thought you didn't want kids."

"So did I. Maybe I didn't want some generic imagined kids. But I want her." He repeated in a whisper, "I want her."

Now, I was crying, too. "She loves you, too, you know. Very much."

"I'm the only father she's ever known. And she thinks I left without explanation. That kills me every day."

"What's happening with the tour?"

"Well, they're without an opening act now for the Christmas shows in L.A., but Calvin understands my situation. They're gonna wing it. They all know how much Bea means to me. They said they would make due for the next few shows if need be. I'm not going back until I'm sure she's okay and home."

Our attention turned to Bea when she suddenly started to babble.

Justin teased, "Hey, you have something to say for yourself?" He smiled at her for a bit before turning to me. "Is it okay to hold her, or is it better not to?"

"They told me I could take her out. It's okay. Just don't toss her up into the air or anything."

Justin slowly lifted her out of the bed and cradled her in his arms. "You scared the c.r.a.p out of me, Miss Bee. You sure this wasn't a ploy to get me home for Christmas? If so, job well-done."

It had completely skipped my mind that tonight was Christmas Eve; we'd be spending her first Christmas in the hospital.

Tilting my head, I admired the two of them together. I'd always felt their connection but worried that Justin would never truly give into it. I felt so happy for Bea, that this wonderful guy wanted to be her father. I knew no matter what happened between Justin and me, he would always be there for her.

When Bea fell asleep in his arms, I told Justin the full story of what happened as best I could remember it.

Bea was still asleep when he returned her to the bed and asked, "When was the last time you ate, Amelia?"

"Sometime yesterday."

"I'm gonna go get us some food and coffee while she's sleeping."

"That would be great."

With Justin gone and Bea asleep, my tired mind went into overdrive. It was getting dark outside the hospital windows. Left alone with too much time to think, I started to push guilt on myself for allowing this to happen. I had one job, and that was to take care of my daughter and keep her safe; I couldn't even do that.