In My Head

TEN YEARS BEFORE THE MOVE ~ Miracle Baby ~ Russell

Sheridan holds her breath as another contraction hits her body. Her curly hair is tangled on the bed, soaked with sweat, which makes it look dark brown. She grits her teeth against the pain and squeezes my hand so hard my thumb almost pops off.

"Keep breathing," Sheridan's sister Rosaleen says. Sheridan hiccups for air. "You're almost ready. On the next contraction, I want you to push."

Dr. Anderson, a male OB with a huge ego, gives Rosaleen a nasty look. If my wife wasn't about to give birth to our twins, I'd find the situation rather humorous. Rosaleen is an obstetrician and Sheridan's twin. Try as he might, Dr. Anderson just cannot compete with that.

The contraction ends, and Sheridan gasps with relief. She finds her breath and whimpers, "This is it?"

"On the next contraction," Rosaleen says, and Dr. Anderson nods.

"Oh God!" Sheridan whines. "I'm so tired Rosie." Tears mingle with the sweat on her face. "You do the next one," she tells me.

"Wish I could, Sheri." I kiss her hand. "This is all up to you."

"Get ready, sis!" Rosaleen says. "Push!"

Sheridan bears down and groans. She pulverizes my numb hand as the contraction rips through her body.

"I can see the head," Rosaleen says. "Push, push, push, keep pushing!" Then like out of a dream, someone else starts crying along with Sheridan.

"You did it, Sheri!" Rosaleen says. "It's a boy!"

Dr. Anderson lets me cut the cord, then two nurses wrap the crying newborn in a warm blanket and set him in the baby crib at the opposite end of the room. The room is suddenly full of people here to help take care of the twins.

"You're amazing, Sheri!" I kiss her again right on the lips.

"Go see him," she whispers. "Tell me about him."

I squeeze her hand and hurry over to my boy, where the nurses are still checking him. The first thing I notice is that his face is beet-red. He's still crying, a loud openmouthed wail. He has a tuft of sandy brown hair that almost matches Sheridan's in color. "He has your hair," I say, and I put my hand on my son's head, and suddenly, it's like this very spot has become the center of the universe. "And my nose. Oh, Sheri, he's perfect!"

Something starts to beep, some kind of medical alarm. My heart stops.

"Fetal distress," Dr. Anderson says.

"Maybe the cord's wrapped around the baby's neck," Rosaleen says.

"You have to help my baby!" Sheridan cries. "Save my baby!"

This is all happening so fast that all I can manage to do is watch the baby in the crib beside me. He's almost done crying, and I'm surprised to see that he opened his eyes. I lean in close for a good look. At first, his eyes look blue, but then I realize they're darker, more of a grayish color. "Don't worry," I tell him. "It'll be okay."

It's sickeningly quiet. Seconds tick by until finally, the NICU staff bring the second baby over, and without wrapping him in a nice blanket, they put him in the other baby bed. Another boy with a full head a dark curly hair.

"It's a boy," I tell my wife. "He has my hair, but it's curly like yours."

"Why isn't he crying?" Sheridan tries to sit up, so she can see. "Is he okay?"

The NICU doctors suction his mouth and thump his chest. He's so still, it makes me want to move. I back away toward Sheridan's hospital bed. I help her sit up and hold her tight while the seconds tick by as the doctors try to revive our baby. Rosaleen starts to cry.

Then, almost as if our first baby can sense that something is wrong with his younger brother, he starts to cry.

"Oh thank God!" Sheridan says.

My throat goes tight as I realize that I need to explain to my wife that it's the other baby who is crying.

I bolt upright in bed, soaked in sweat, my heart pounding. It's that same dream again. I always wake up before I get to hear Kaden cry. It makes me so restless, I can't stand to stay in bed, let alone try to go back to sleep. I leave Sheridan in bed and stumble across our gray-dark room to the door. I've taken this late-night walk so many times, I have the steps memorized.

The hallway isn't as dark as our room. The nightlight in Kaden's room is my beacon. I reach his open doorway before my heart has time to slow down.

Kaden is lying on his back in bed. I step inside his room and quietly approach his bedside. The rhythmic sound of his breathing reaches my strained ears, and I finally start to relax. It's been six years since Logan and Kaden were born, and I still check on him in the middle of the night. I can't explain it. Something about the way that Kaden came into this world has always made me worry for him. Look, I tell myself. Kaden's perfectly fine. He's our miracle baby, and nothing bad will ever happen to him.

This is the first chapter from an adult's point of view. There will be more to come! What do you think of their father Russ?

Thank you for reading. I appreciate any comments and votes you send my way, and I will do my best to visit you in return.

~A.C.