Page 39 of With Every Breath

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Ava Marie Slone was born at three twenty-five a.m. on November 19thweighing in at 4 pounds 2 ounces and 18 inches long. For being a preemie, she was actually pretty big. She’s been in the NICU for the last two days to make sure she keeps her temperature up, and breathing stabilized. Dex hasn’t left my side. I start my first round of chemo tomorrow. I’m neither thrilled nor afraid. I’m trying to be brave. I know what the road ahead looks like, and I know that it’s a battle like I’ve never fought before.

“Did you get her to eat today?” I sounded so weak even I didn’t recognize myself.

I’d wanted to breastfeed, but that was off the table with treatments. With formula feeding, Dex could help, and so could my mom. She flew out yesterday, and has been bringing Dex things from home since he refuses to leave.

“She’s doing great.” Dex squeezed my hand. “She’s perfect, and strong like her mother. Rest. I’ll talk to the nurse about a visit tonight.” I nodded as I let my eyes drift shut. I was so tired and weak that merely staying awake was hard.

“I love you.” I yawned as I drifted into oblivion.

I could see her in my dreams. We were happy. I was healthy. Her brown hair was up in pigtails. The ringlets bounced as she ran, sun shining off her sweaty skin. Her feet danced across the grass as she worked a soccer ball down the field. Her laughter sounded like a melody that only I knew. Dex cheered from the sidelines as she rushed toward the goal. The ball swished into the net, and she turned, all smiles, leaping into the air. “Daddy!” she called. “I did it. Just like Mommy!” She ran to Dex, throwing herself into his arms, and squeezing him around the neck. “Do you think she saw?” Her voice was muffled against his neck.

“I’m sure she saw.” He smiled back at her. “She’s always watching you, you know that.” He released her, and she ran back on to the field, only to be surrounded by her teammates. It didn’t dawn on me that she didn’t run to me. I faded into the crowd as my daughter’s star began to shine brighter than I could have ever imagined.

My eyes blinked against the harsh lights of my hospital room. “Dex?” my voice cracked. I needed water.

He handed me a cup, knowing exactly what I wanted. “What’s wrong?” He sounded slightly panicked.

“Promise me that she’ll know me.” Now I sounded panicked. “Promise me you’ll tell her everything, even the bad stuff,” I pleaded.

“Oh, Bay. You can tell her yourself. You’re going to beat this. We start fighting tomorrow.” He pressed his lips together in a sad smile. “Don’t you give up now.” He squeezed my hand. “You hear me?”

I nodded slowly, but I knew deep down that this might be a fight that I lose, and I needed to be ready for that. I needed to be ready for the possibility that this wasn’t going to end the way I wanted it to.

Chapter 19

Bailey

It’s been a month. I’ve been in here surrounded by these white walls for four weeks. Nurses come in to check my vitals every few hours. I see the look they give me. They plaster on a fake smile, and tell me everything is going well, but I know differently. If things were going well, I’d be going home. Very few treatments require an extended stay. When I did this the last time, I was only an inpatient once. The rest of the time, I’d come in for treatments, and then go home. My mom was the one with the pitied looks.

“How are you feeling today?” Dex smiled as he sat on the edge of my bed. He brushed my hair off my forehead, taking a handful with him. It’s been falling out daily. Soon, I’d look more like my bald daughter than myself.

“Same.” I sighed. I turned to stare out the window. It was the one happy thing the room offered, a view of outside. “Can you get me more ice chips?”

“How about some soup?” he coaxed. I haven’t been eating much, and my weight is nearly nonexistent.

“I don’t want to throw up again today,” I muttered.

“Still that bad, huh?” He reached for me, and I turned away. I didn’t want to do this right now. I felt terrible, I looked terrible, and Dex telling me everything was going to be fine made me want to scream. Things weren’t fine. I was here. My baby was home now with Dex’s mom, and I was wasting away.

“It’s always bad.” I punched the bed with my fist. I had very little energy, but anger always fueled me. “I want to go home.” A lone tear fell from my eye.

“I know you do, but the treatment’s working. We need to stay until this course is done, then they’ll run more tests.” He seemed so optimistic.

“Yeah, sure,” I grumbled.

“What’s wrong?” He gently tugged at my arm to get me to look at him.

“What if it’s not? What if after all of this—” I waved my arm around, causing the IV tubing to swing wildly “—it was for nothing? Do you really think I wanna be here, away from our daughter…” I couldn’t finish. The ideas that had been floating through my head and stopping on the tip of my tongue were depressing and morbid.

“You can’t think like that.” He started to get upset. “You have to fight this! You have to think positive.” He stood and started pacing the room. “This can’t… it just can’t happen like this. This isn’t how things are supposed to be, damn it!” He kicked at the floor.

“I wanna go home, Dex. I wanna be with Ava,” I begged.

I watched as his shoulders dropped. I could see the struggle, and prayed that he’d heard me this time. “Give it two more weeks. I’m begging you. Two more weeks of treatments. Let the doctors run their tests after this next round, and then we’ll go home. I promise.” He knelt beside the bed. “I promise.” He pulled my hand to his lips and pressed a kiss over the bruise from my IV. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” I started to cry.

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