“Is your vacuum in the laundry room?” Holly asks, pulling me out of my latest reverie.
“Yes, why?”
“Because I’m going to vacuum the floor for you,” she replies as she walks out of the bedroom to go get my vacuum.
Shaking my head, I move toward the kitchen and spot Data sitting at the table drinking another cup of coffee. Remembering that he’s their IT guy, I ask, “I have videos of Cami, can I send them to you? Some are with her mom which she might want to see when she’s old enough.”
He nods and rattles off an email address while I start the process of forwarding what I have to him. I’m trying to be strong, but Data still catches me wiping away a stray tear. “You know he’ll let you see her, Phoebe.” His voice is kind and deliberately soft, but it’s like he knew what my biggest fear was.
“I know, it’s just… hard,” I admit. “That little girl, she kept me moving forward on really hard days at work, knowing I’d hear her little giggles and get to hug her close.” The look on his face has me explaining further. “Rosa’s delivery was difficult, and she spent several days in ICU fighting off an infection, so she didn’t get to immediately bond with Cami. That sent her spiraling into post-partum depression. She sought treatment and therapy, but until her hormones got better regulated, I was the one taking care of Cami.”
“While you worked?” he questions. “Aren’t your shifts like twelve hours or something?”
“We’ll go with ‘or something’ because depending on where I was working that day, my shifts were more fluid. I had Cami in the hospital daycare, which is open twenty-four hours, initially while Rosa was getting herself together. No matter how long the day was, it didn’t matter once I walked into the baby room and saw her, if that makes sense. I wasn’t lying when I said I tried to get Rosa to tell Eli about the pregnancy or even let him know when Cami was born, Data. It was a never-ending battle between the two of us, which ended the way it did and him missing out on the first months of her life. Yes, I’ll miss her, but she’s right where she was supposed to be all along,” I reply.
“Thank you for advocating for our brother even when he wasn’t aware he had a child,” Rebel says, having come in while I was spilling my guts to Data.
“It was the right thing to do,” I profess. “Every child should have their parent or parents, whichever the case may be, in their lives, and Eli is no different. Plus, he’s got all of y’all to help him raise her and I have no doubt she’s going to have a beautiful life.”
I feel myself choking upagainso quickly excuse myself and head into my bathroom. I need to have a come to Jesus meeting with the woman in the mirror. It shouldn’t be too much longer before all of them leave, and I can fall apart.
I just have to hold on a little bit longer.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Phoebe
It’s been two weeks since I handed Cami over to Eli and I honestly didn’t expect to miss her as much as I do. To fill in the time, I’ve taken extra shifts in both ICU and the emergency department. While my bank account will enjoy the extra cushion of money, it doesn’t replace the time I spent sitting on the floor playing with her or feeding her new foods per the pediatrician’s recommendations. It seemed as though every day, her personality shone through; a happy, contented little girl with the world at her feet.
Because I work in two different departments, my scrub sets are not like everyone else’s; in that ICU nurses usually wear either a light sage or lavender because the color is considered to be soothing and calming, while the emergency room nurses wear burgundy. Since I have been known to pull doubles, working half in one department and half in another, I wear black scrub pants and the appropriate top, which means I have a shit ton of scrubs hanging in my closet.
Well, not right now, anyhow, since I’ve been working so much that my boss insisted I take the next few days off. So, I’m currently doing my mountain of laundry that’s piled up in the basket and cleaning my house, although it’s more along the lines of dusting and wiping counters down than anything. You actually have to be home to make a mess, who knew? I also need to make a trip to the grocery store since my prepped meals need to be replenished.
Sighing, I switch the loads around and quickly hang the tops from the dryer, so they don’t wrinkle. The fabric on these typically doesn’t unless stuff is left unattended for days, which I don’t do as a rule. Lately, though, I have had to toss a load in before I go to bed then swap it out before I leave, so it’s kind of nice to see everything looking fresh and crisp.
I hear my phone chime and grin, hoping it’s a text from Eli with an updated picture of Cami. He’s been sending me regular updates, which I appreciate more than I can explain. Opening up the text thread has me moving toward my bedroom to change out of my housecleaning clothes, which consist of a pair of booty shorts and a tank top.
As I change, I hit the button to call him and when he answers, I ask, “Do you know what her temperature is?”
He clears his throat a few times then replies, “No, not really. She woke up from her nap all flushed and hot, and she’s been really fussy. I reached out to you because you’re a nurse and I was hoping you knew what was going on.”
I grin even though he can’t see my expression over the phone line because most people who are not in healthcare will do that to those who are, presume that we automatically know what’s wrong without seeing the patient in person. “She has a tendencyto get an ear infection whenever she’s about to cut a new tooth,” I explain. “Can you see if her gums are red and irritated?”
Placing the call on speaker, I set my phone on my bed and finish getting dressed in a pair of jeans and a T-shirt before I slip my boots on over my fuzzy socks. “Yeah, they look different than they did last night when I was brushing her teeth.”
This time, I laugh out loud because he makes it sound like she’s got a mouthful of teeth when in actuality, she’s got three so far. I know Rosa asked the doctor at her last visit if that was normal and she was assured that Cami was smack dab in the middle of the road as far as her development goes.
“What’s so funny?” he asks, sounding a bit more growly than he originally did.
“Okay, so bear with me here, alright?” I question. When he verbally agrees, I continue and say, “You made it seem as though she’s already got all her baby teeth in, and it presented me with a visual as far as brushing her teeth goes. So, do you want me to meet you at her pediatrician’s office?”
“She needs the doctor?” he asks anxiously.
Great, now he’s alarmed so I work to allay his fears. “Like I said, her first two teeth, she ended up with an ear infection and that’ll require a doctor visit. Plus, if she is teething, they have a topical gel that you can get to put on her gums that’ll help ease the discomfort. The over the counter one is okay, but Dr. Goldberg has a compounded prescription he’ll give you that works so much better.”
“Then yeah, if you don’t mind?” he queries.
“Not at all or I wouldn’t have offered,” I reply, keeping my voice calm and steady.