Page 463 of The Tempted

She nodded, tears falling down her cheeks as she listened along with me as the doctor explained Pea’s condition and the illnesses he may face.

Cerebral Palsy.

Mental Retardation.

And that was just if he had a brain bleed.

I think.

All I knew was he spoke of things no parent wants to hear.

“Can I see him?” I asked, interrupting him as he went down the list of possible occurrences. Pea wasn’t going to get any of those things. I was sure of it. He was half Lauren and half me. He was his mother’s son and he was a fighter. He’d get through it.

Dr. Meadow’s eyes assessed me before he sighed.

“I’m going to get a nurse to give you some scrubs and get you out of these clothes. The NICU is a very sterile environment. You’ll need to scrub down and then of course you may see your son,” he said, turning toward Maria and Anthony. “The rest of you may see him from the window but at this time we’re only going to allow the father inside the unit.”

Maria nodded, turning to me.

“You tell that little boy he has a lot of people who love him and can’t wait to meet him. You tell him his mommy is the number one person on that list, okay?”

I nodded, pushing down the lump in my throat as I stared at her. I get it now…what family is. It’s the people you laugh with, the people you cry with, the people who stand by your side through the good times and bad. You fight and make up, or maybe you don’t, maybe you go months, sometimes years without speaking but then something happens and it erases all that negative shit that kept you from being family. One circumstance is all it takes to bring a family together. If you’re lucky it’s a birth or a wedding, some warm, fuzzy shit that everyone wants a piece of. Other times, times like now, it’s when everything falls apart and things are so far out of control, they’re so fucked you can’t help but turn to one another for support. It’s times like these when families become stronger.

“We’ll go get you some clothes,” Pipe spoke up. “Anything else you need?”

I reached into my pocket and threw Pipe my keys.

“There’s a bag on my kitchen counter can you bring that too?”

“Aye, of course,” he agreed.

I thanked him, tipped my chin to the rest of them and squeezed Maria’s hand reassuringly before following the doctor through the doors and into the elevator. I was taken to the eighth floor and a nurse handed me a pair of scrubs, pointing to a vacant room and instructed me to change my clothes. I pulled the shirt over my head, laying it flat on the chair and stared at the dried up blood, a nasty mix of red and brown painted the once plain white t-shirt.

Lauren’s face flashed before my eyes.

Choose Pea.

Our son.

I twisted the shirt in my hands and shoved it into the waste basket before I continued to peel the clothes from my body. I changed into the scrubs and met the nurse outside the door. She took me into another room and I started to feel anxious as she handed me a bar of soap and instructed me to wash my hands and forearms. I vigorously scrubbed my skin, watching as the water in the sink mixed with the blood on my hands and swirled down the drain.

Once my hands were sterilized I followed her into the NICU, my heart beat rampantly inside my chest as my eyes scanned the room, looking at all incubators and wondering which one held my son until the nurse came to a stop and turned around to face me.

“Are you ready to meet your son?” she smiled warmly, as she stepped to the side. “He’s been waiting to meet his daddy,” she continued.

My eyes dropped and rested on the little miracle fighting for his life. I heard the gasp escape my lips as I took a step closer, cocking my head to the side as I stared at the tiniest human I had ever laid eyes on. He looked so frail, so fragile hooked up to all the machines. Aside from the respirator and the feeding tube, his skin was decorated with tiny little stickers that connected more wires to him.

But I saw past the wires and ignored the sounds of the machines, focusing on the beautiful little boy that was half Lauren and half me.

“You can’t hold him just yet but you can stick your hands through the holes and touch him,” the nurse stated. “It would be good for him to feel you,” she encouraged.

“Can he hear me?” I asked hoarsely, running my hand over the top of the incubator.

“Of course he can,” she smiled. “He already probably recognizes your voice from in utero.

His eyes were closed and because of the feeding tube and the ventilator I couldn’t assess his features, but still, I knew he had the most adorable face.

After all, I was his dad.

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