Page 11 of Under My Skin

Everything was a blur of commotion, voices, and various machines beeping as at least ten different people rushed into the room and started working on saving my sister’s life. All I could do was watch and pray as I saw them attach the shock pads for the defibrillator and begin trying to shock my sister’s heart back into beating. I heard a very weak, thready pulse coming through on the monitor, but as soon as they stopped compressions, she started to flatline again.

Suddenly, Isaac’s cries broke through my consciousness again, and I rolled his bassinet over to the corner of the room. I couldn’t do anything to help my sister right now, but I could at least take care of her son. Feeling his diaper, I could tell that he needed to be changed, so I grabbed the package of wipes and a fresh diaper for him and changed him. I quickly tossed his dirty diaper into the trash and re-fastened his onesie, then grabbed the little blue blanket that he’d been wrapped in and tried my best to re-swaddle him before picking him up and rocking him back and forth.

“Está bien, cariño. Está bien. Te tengo,” I sobbed.It’s okay, sweetheart. It’s okay. I’ve got you.

The droning, steady tone of the heart monitor sounded, and I saw the somber looks on everyone’s faces as the doctor checked the clock.

“Time of death is 12:34 a.m.,” he announced.

“No!” I screamed as I rushed back over toward the bed with Isaac still in my arms. “Mar! No! She’s not dead! She’s! Not! Dead! She was fine a few hours ago! She can’t be dead. She can’t!”

I broke down in sobs, and someone put a hand on my shoulder, squeezing gently.

“Hon, let me take the baby for a few minutes,” came a female voice.

“No!” I growled, turning to see the bitchy nurse who’d had the gall to question my sister’s life choices earlier. “No! You can’t take him from me! I have to take care of him! I promised her! I promised I’d take care of him! I promised. If something happened… I can’t?—”

“He’s not even going to leave this room. We’re just going to set him back down in his bassinet for a few minutes,” she soothed me. “We’ll wheel it right over here to this chair so you can both say goodbye.”

“You can’t take Isaac,” I choked out. “You can’t take him from me. I’m the only family he has left.”

“He’s not going anywhere right now, sweetheart. Here. You can even set him down. I won’t touch him. I just want to make sure he doesn’t accidentally get hurt.”

She wheeled the bassinet over next to me, and I grudgingly set my nephew down and turned to the bed, where my sister’s lifeless body was still lying. If I hadn’t known better, I would have thought she was still just sleeping.

“We’ll let you say goodbye,” the nurse murmured. “The doctor will be back in shortly to speak with you.”

As she left the room, I picked up my sister’s limp hand and kissed it, letting my tears trickle down my face and onto her arm.

“No sé qué hacer sin ti, Mar,” I sniffled. “No sé cómo ser madre.”

I don’t know what to do without you, Mar. I don’t know how to be a mother.

“But I swear to God, I will raise this precious little boy and I will love him with everything I have. I will make sure he knows all about his amazing mamá and I will teach him how to be strong and how to treat a woman right and I will make sure he can be whatever he wants to be. Te quiero, Mar.”

There was a quiet rap on the doorframe, and a man with dark hair and eyes who was wearing a doctor’s coat came in. This man had an air of authority about him, but he barely looked old enough to have graduated from medical school, let alone be a doctor.

“Hi. Daniela, right?” he asked quietly.

I nodded, taking a deep breath and wiping my eyes. “Dani.”

“Hi, Dani. I’m Dr. Vaga,” he said, giving me a kind, but sad smile as he pulled a chair over to the other side of the bassinet and sat down. “Amara was your sister?”

“She was my only family,” I choked out. “Except Isaac.”

“I’m very sorry for your loss,” he said sympathetically.

“Isaac’s all I have left now,” I sniffled. “And I’m all he has. Please don’t take him from me. Please. She has a will. It says in there I’m supposed to take care of him.”

“A social worker is going to come talk to you about all of that in the morning,” he said, putting a comforting hand on my arm. “But as long as you’re willing and able to care for him, there shouldn’t be any problem with you being able to take him home when he’s ready.”

“When he’s ready?” I asked, my heart rate picking up yet again. “Is there something wrong with him? Is he sick too?”

“We’re not sure right now,” he sighed. “Because we’re not sure how your sister died. We’re going to move this little man to the NICU and put him on some IV antibiotics just to be safe in case there was any sort of infection present that might have been passed on to him.”

I nodded. “Okay. How long will he have to be there?”

“We’re going to run some blood cultures, and if that all comes back clear, then he should be able to go home in a few days.”

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