In my medication induced sleep, I dreamt of a fantasy-like future complete with a house full of joy, happy marriage and a picket fence. At around 7 the next morning, I was awakened by my ringing cell phone and my reality.
I knew who was at the other end of the phone line without checking, but the few moments that it took to look at my caller ID gave me a brief moment to decide what I would say once I answered.
“Hi honey,” came my husband’s voice; followed by a rush of questions, “Did you have the baby? Is it a girl or boy? Did you decide on a name? …Oh babe, I wish I was there!”
“Nick, we have a daughter. I uh…I haven’t named her yet.”
Nick was quiet for a few moments and I could hear him sniffle as if trying to contain his emotions. When he finally gathered himself, he whispered dreaded words that should have been so sweet…but in actually hurt as if I’d been hit in the womb. “I bet she’s beautiful like you.”
My eyes filled with tears and I felt as if my breath had totally left my body. I could hear my heart pound into my ears as I said the next few words…“She has a…” I stopped; unwilling to hear myself say the words that would come next.
“She has a what? She has a what Diane!” Nick’s words were urgent; full of anxiety and nervous anticipation. I wanted to tell him the truth, but I couldn’t…so I lied.
“She has a beautiful face…she’s perfect.”
I could hear Nick’s sigh of relief on the other end. This time he didn’t hold back the emotion between his words as he spoke in a shaky voice, “I’ll be home tomorrow. I love you Di.”
“I love you too,” I whispered before ending the call.
I stared at the phone for a while after hanging up…wanting more than anything for our new life to be every bit as perfect as the lie that I had just painted for my husband.
I sat up with some hope in my heart. Maybe our life could still be what I’d hoped it was. I recalled the first few moments after the nurse put our daughter into my arms…in that instant, she was beautiful…vibrant…perfect.
No matter what…she’s a part of us and I was sure that in time…her flaws would be invisible through our eyes as we looked at her with nothing but love.
With that dream running through my head, I called the nurse. “I want to see my daughter,” I said; my words greeted by an unmistakable expression of relief on the nurse’s face.
“OK,” she said, quickly grabbing a wheel chair.
On the way to the nursery, I spotted a proud new dad staring at his new baby through the nursery window.
I envied the love that filled his face and I tried to picture my husband Nick standing there in his place. What would Nick’s expression be if he was standing there looking at our daughter?
Inside the nursery, my baby was wide awake. She was alert and looking around with her one eye; the other once again covered in gauze.
I turned toward the nurse, “Can I have a moment alone?”
“Sure,” she answered; surely happy at the possibility of me finally bonding with my daughter. “Just let the other nurse know when you’re ready to return to your room.”
I stared at my child and I realized that I hadn’t completely lied to Nick…she was beautiful, but my eyes still filled with tears because I couldn’t help but picture what was hidden beneath the gauze.
My husband would be coming home tomorrow. What would I do and say when he found out that I had lied…that our child wasn’t perfect?
This baby needs a name. From the time I was a little girl, I dreamt of having a beautiful daughter and naming her Carmina…a name fit for a princess.
But no matter how optimistic I tried to be…the name just didn’t fit this baby. I would have to come up with another.
Just then…the baby in the bassinet next to mine whined quietly and began to stir. I had not even seen it there before.
I looked over and my breath caught in my chest.
She was easily the prettiest little baby I had ever seen. I felt drawn to her. I wanted to touch her…to hold her.
After a quick glance over my shoulder; noting that the nurse was occupied with another baby, I worked my wheelchair over to the other bassinet.
This baby had a pretty honey colored complexion; impossibly smooth for a newborn baby. She had wisps of brown soft hair and her eyes…her two eyes were beautiful, full of life and innocence.
I quickly became obsessed with this baby. “Hi Carmina,” I said to the baby; lifting her out of the bassinet as if she were my own.
I glanced over at my own baby once again…and again tried to imagine the future. The picture was now gone. I couldn’t see it…I couldn’t see her as a part of it.
I turned back to Carminaand kissed her on her soft sweet smelling cheek.
As if she already knew me, she laid her tiny head on my shoulder and began to drift off to sleep. My heart involuntarily filled with love for her…like some sort of cruel joke.
Reluctantly, I put her back into the bassinet; afraid that the nurse in charge of the nursery would catch me holding this baby.
I had to leave her there, but I didn’t want to. I never wanted to leave her.
Without even bothering to inform the nurse, I started toward the door to the nursery on my own.
My heart aching, I did not even look back at my own child.
I rolled the wheelchair right up to my hospital bed and helped myself into it.
I sat there for a while with all sorts of thoughts running through my head…thoughts that I’m now ashamed to admit.
Whether I care to admit them or not, all the thoughts led to one conclusion and at the time it made all the sense in the world…
…I had to take that beautiful baby home.
