Bargain with the Irish Devil

Chapter 27

CHAPTER 27

M iranda

Whitney urges me to breathe deep as I relay my concern and desire to see the baby at the beginning of our appointment and not the end—the way we usually do.

“All right, we can do that.” She lifts the phone and lets the sonographer know we’re on our way.

I follow close behind her.

“While we’re walking, talk to me. How is everything else going? Did that rash clear up yet on your hip?”

Declan answers for me. “Yes, it was gone two days after our last appointment. The skin has been a little patchy and dry, even with the lotion you suggested.”

“Good. Maybe go with some shea butter or cocoa butter instead.”

I keep Declan’s hand after he helps me onto the exam table. The moment the image of our son is on the screen, I see it immediately. “Oh my gosh, is he okay?”

“It’s okay, he’s fine. Look, his hands are moving around. The cord can get wrapped around their throat. I see from the notes he got pretty twisted in the cord from last time. Jennifer, can I get the measurements, please.” Whitney asks the sonographer.

“Okay, checking here. He’s doing good, I promise. His measurements are right in line where they should be. He’s growing the way he should have since the last appointment. I get it looks scary. But he’s good. Breathe for me.” Whitney is trying to reassure me.

I work to follow the instructions, but it’s not easy. His eyes are open, and I swear he can see me even though I know it’s crazy. “How do we know if he’s not okay?”

“Okay, you have the heart monitor? I remember you mentioned it.”

I nod.

She goes to a standing cabinet and pulls out one. The one Declan bought is nicer. It’s pressed against my stomach. “Let’s time this out. If it gets faster or slower than ten beats of what it is now, I want you to call me. And we can get you both back in here and take another look.”

Sighing, she nods. “Okay, how about I see you again in two weeks? If you guys are good with these ultrasounds, and I see Mister Moneybags doesn’t have a problem, then I can fit you in to check on him again.”

“Please.” I’m fighting tears. I don’t care if she says he’s fine. It doesn’t look fine—it looks terrifying.

Declan’s hand is in mine. I cling to his strength.

Declan

I’m grateful as fuck for the repeated ultrasounds. They soothe Miranda, even if at first glance, each time, I know her heart jumps at the sight of our son’s cord wrapped around his neck.

Honestly, it fucks with me too. But I don’t dare say it out loud. Miranda is too upset already. The one we did two weeks ago had her clinging to me all night long, the same as the first time we saw it a month ago.

Since Miranda is now at thirty-six weeks, I’m going to push the doctor on whether or not something can be done manually. He’s getting so much bigger every day. I can tell Miranda is growing uncomfortable—he has to be, too.

Except as the doctor is doing the measurements with Jennifer. She’s flipping back and forth between the one done two weeks ago and the one done a month ago. I don’t miss the way her jaw tightens.

“Okay, I’m seeing something here. He’s fine. Remember that. But he’s not growing at the rate he should be, so what I want to do is admit you today. Give you a few days to get plenty of steroids in because we need to get his lung health up as much as possible before we deliver, and I believe we need to deliver as soon it’s determined the steroids have done their thing.”

Miranda’s hand could break mine if she tightened it anymore.

“Since he’s in breach, we’re going to do a cesarian. I know you wanted a natural birth, but I just don’t think that’s safe with the cord around his neck.” She looks to me. “Good job, Mister Moneybags. Without these ultrasounds, we would have no way of knowing and getting out in front of this. You saved your baby from…”

I see the hell in her eyes and squeeze Miranda’s hand back.

“All that matters is you saved him. I’m going to call the hospital now. They’re going to send an ambulance to come get you. I’ll see you there in a few hours.”

Declan

Miranda is stressing me out by how quiet she’s been since we got here almost two hours ago. We’re at Northwestern in the Prentice Women’s Hospital because I was told it was the best labor and delivery in the metro area, and I’m impressed by the care she’s gotten so far. Even if it’s clear the nurses are afraid of me—they’ve all been kind and gentle with Miranda and worked to calm her fears.

“Is there anything besides the bag we packed for the hospital that you want from the house?” I ask Miranda as I see the message from Colm that he’s good to retrieve what I need from the house.

She shrugs. “I can’t think of anything.”

“Okay, I’m going to have Colm pick us up some dinner. What sounds good?”

“Manicotti with sausage from Dominic’s club and tiramisu please.”

I give him the order along with mine and warn him about parking when he gets here.

I’m ending the call when the doctor enters before knocking.

“Okay, take a deep breath. I promise everything is going to go easily. They’re prepping the steroids now. You’ll get a shot today, then one tomorrow then you’re going to deliver the day after tomorrow. I’m scheduling the cesarian for six p.m. I’ll be in to see you the day of the cesarian.”

Bristling at the idea of this going on for several days, I shake my head when she asks if we have any questions. Miranda clearly has more but doesn’t ask them.

Once the door is closed behind the doctor, I’m in the seat beside her bed. “Hey, everything is going to be good. He’s going to be a pain in the ass from the very beginning. That’s all. If it were my girl, we’d be at home happy as clams waiting for her to come when she’s supposed to.”

Her smile is forced, and her nod is stiff.

“Talk to me. What are you afraid of?”

“What if he didn’t get enough air? What if he has delays or…something?”

I hear the real question, the one she’s afraid to ask. “Then we’ll figure it out. It might mean a harder road for him and us, but we’ll be good.” I promise her.

Finally, she looks me in the eye. “Really?”

“Really. We can plan all we want, and then life happens, and we have to roll with it and adjust.”

Relieved she holds her arms out to me. I hold her and rock her until she falls asleep.

Miranda

I’m so fucking grateful for Declan. I don’t know what I would do without him. All day he’s been the rock I needed to cling to in order to stay standing. From him refusing to allow me to go to the hospital by myself in the ambulance to the way he has held my hand and stared down the nurses and another doctor who had come into my room. It shouldn’t crack me up the way everyone is afraid of him. But it does. Unless he’s looking at me, he doesn’t smile in the slightest. Gone is all his usual charm.

A knock on the door is followed by Colm entering with the small carryon suitcase that I packed for myself a few weeks ago for when the baby came, and another I know is Declan’s, as well as boxes of food from Dominic’s.

Shaking my head, I look to Declan. “You can go home. I’m fine.”

That damn eyebrow. “You are not fine. And it’s only home because you’re there.”

I sigh and give in and ask him if he can hold me again. Without a word, he does, and I cling to him. I fall asleep to the pounding of his heart beneath my ear.

When I come awake, I find Declan on the chair beside my bed. It’s a horrible chair. There’s no way he’s comfortable on it, yet it’s where he plans on sleeping for the next few days until our son is here and safe.

I don’t know what in the world I did to deserve this man, but I’ll keep doing everything I can to keep him. Although I barely stir, his head comes up. “Are you all right? Do you need a nurse?”

Reaching for him, I shake my head. “Can you please sleep with me? ”

Nodding, he gets into bed with me. My back is to his, and one large hand is resting on my chest, holding me tight. There are a dozen questions I haveanda hundred fears that cling to me. All of them want out, but none make it past my lips. In Declan’s arms nothing can hurt me.

Over the next few days, my love for Declan expands in a way that I never thought it would. I’m not allowed to think. He finds a traveling chess set and a pack of playing cards in the hospital gift store and taught me to play chess and poker. His pride at me almost beating him at chess had me catching my breath. After a few hours of regular poker, he decided to show me how to cheat and complimented me on how well I learned both.

His willingness to be whatever I needed astounded me. There was a long-running sitcom that’s now reruns. When we saw it we shared we both enjoyed it. Declan came up with a way of keeping our minds on anything but what was going on. We talked about what was happening in our life when we first saw the episode. Because it was so old we both saw episodes at different times. And it was a fun way of learning about this amazing man I’m lucky enough to call my husband.

The subject I thought would be the hardest came out to be easiest. We hadn’t decided on a name. Declan figured he would leave it up to me, since he didn’t have a preference. I felt a little overwhelmed by the thought of being the sole person to decide our son’s name he’d be stuck with for life.

“There’s no name at all that sounds good to you? He’s going to be here in a few hours. We have to pick something.”

One shoulder goes up. “I hadn’t thought of it. My father couldn’t wait for me to have a son, though. He wanted me to have a son just like me. He’d laugh, and it felt like he was cursing me. ”

Shaking my head, I laugh at the idea. “Your father knew you too well. I think. All this fuss does have me scared for the future. Your father’s name, it was Killian—right?”

A nod. “It was. It’s a more commonname in Ireland.”

“What does it mean?” I wonder aloud.

“Little warriorwas the one my da loved the most, and his father did too.”

I consider the name. “I think I like Killian. What do you think?”

Blue is soft. “Are you sure? I like Samuel, too.”

Of course, he knows my father’s name. A name I had considered. “I thought about it, but he doesn’t feel like a Sam. It’s too solid and boring for this one.”

“I like it.” He nods.

It was hell when after the cesarian, they rushed the baby away to check him and, if needed, put him into an incubator. Declan doesn’t leave my side from the moment I’m wheeled into surgery or after when I’m taken back into the room. I’m getting antsy when my doctor comes in with another doctor at her side.

“This is Nicholas Chu and he’s going to take over care for baby Killian. On my end, everything is good. It’sgreat. I’m going to let Dr. Chu give the report on Killian.” She nods to the doctor.”

“Hello, I will say I think everything is looking very good for baby Killian. His lungs aren’t as bad as I feared they would be. Good job to Dr. Sherman forgetting the steroids going. His APGAR is great. Really, he’s a little undersized but still impressive at seven pounds, three ounces, and at twenty inches—I’m happy. He is going to need time in the incubator until he can keep his temperature even without any help. All of his numbers look so good A few weeks in the incubator and he should be ready to go home.”

“When can I see him?” I plead.

“You can see him now. We’ll get you into a wheelchair and get you into NICU for a visit. It would be great if you could see if he’s able to feed. Were you going to breastfeed or…”

“I’d like to, yes.” I’m done being embarrassed, considering all the bodily functions happening in front of doctors, nurses, and medical students—except the students thing only happened once because Declan said never again—I’ve been through in the last month.

The doctor is happy. “Great, we’ll get you also squared away with bottles and to pump so the nurses can keep milk for him in supply when you’re ready to go home.”

“I’m going to go home without him?” The words are hard to form. I have no idea where the tears are coming from. Declan has his arms around me.

Whitney speaks up. “We’re going to keep you in for a few days. To confirm everything is good with your incision, but you will likely leave before Killian. Yes.”

The world goes dim, and I don’t really take anything in until a wheelchair appears in the room. I hate it but it’s what is taking me to my son, so I suffer through Declan picking me up and setting me gently in the wheelchair.

He pushes me down a hallway. Then we stop and have to wash our hands, and Declan puts a weird net over my hair, then his own. The room is a confusing cacophony of alarms. None of the alarms appear to trouble anyone—not even the babies. In a corner is a large incubator and damn it tears are back as the nurse opens the doors of the incubator.

Carefully, she lays him in my arms. “Declan, he has your blue eyes and your dimples. Even the one in your chin. Oh, he’s perfect.”

The weight of him is small and precious in my arms. He looks like a wizened old man, with those blue eyes cloudy with the temper of adark storm.

“Perfect, I don’t know about that. If he was going to be a boy, the least he could have done was have your green eyes.” Declan mutters as he tries hard not to smile.

“Yes, I do think Killian is far more fitting for this one. Hi, Killian. I was the one you’ve been kicking.”

His yawn is adorable.

“Ma’am, your epidural is going to wear off soon. Let’s see if we can get him to feed from you first. We want to see how his sucking is, it might be a problem for him.” The nurse warns me.

She runs a finger over his cheek, his mouth opens looking for food. Wow, how neat he just knew. His little mouth tries to close before I have my nip—ow. My skin is too tight, and everything is beginning to ache. Ouch, he doesn’t want to latch. No, I can do this.

“Mrs. Kelly, it’s okay. They can’t always when they’re a preemie like Killian. Oh my goodness, he’s got it. That’s great. Really, he’s already doing better than we thought he would. Good job, Mom.”

I’m oddly proud, even if it feels so odd. There’s a twinge of pain at each suckle. His soft mouth is so different. It’s nothing like with Declan.

Declan is at my side. “Are you all right? Do you want me to get the nurse to take him? ”

I shake my head, “No. It’s okay. It just feels weird. I guess it will take some getting used to.”

“Remember, if you don’t want to breastfeed, formula is more than all right. It will make things easier for Aoife and meto help feed him.” He urges me as he runs two fingers gingerly over Killian’s tiny hand.

“I will.” Leaning into his arms, I sigh with relief that he’s so insistent I depend on him and Aoife if I need help.

Killian eats hungrily for the first few minutes. Then, gradually, he slows, but it’s clear heisn’t full. Vaguely I remember something about ten minutes. I’m not sure if it was a total of ten minutes or ten minutes foreach breast. When I get to ten minutes, I burp Killian. It’s a relief when he burps quickly and without a lot of work. Since the nurse isn’t back and he doesn’t seem satisfied I move him to my other breast.

Just as I think Killian is falling asleep, the nurse is back. “He’s stopped eating, but I wasn’t sure what to do with him…”

She chuckles. “Good job, Mama, moving him to the other breast. It will take some time to get his schedule down. It’s a good idea not to have him fall asleep eating or in your arms. Or it will train him to only fall asleep that way—just something to think about. Now, it’stime to get you into bed.”

I’m wheeled back to our room by the nurse. Declan picks me up from the wheelchair and settles me down onto the bed.

“I’ll go get the bottles and pump.” The nurse pats my leg.

“What do you want for dinner? Aoife is coming along soon, and she can pick something up or make something. She wants your order.” Declan is beside the bed with his phone pulled out .

I shrug. “I’m not hungry.” He gets that look on his face. “I don’t care. You order it, and I’ll eat it. I promise.”

Sighing, he nods and begins replying to Aoife’s text.

The nurse is back carrying two bottles and a very ugly breast pump. Declan shakes his head and is into the overnight bag I packed. He pulls out the case the breast pump I picked out is in. I selected it with Aoife helping. The newer ones I was looking at were more focused on suction directly at the nipple.

The breast pump I went with has more suction from around the nipple, not focused on the nipple because Aoife warned me it would hurt. I’m now realizing that’s what hurt the most with Killian.

“Oh good, this is a much better pump.” The nurse nods. “Thankfully all bottles have the same size on the lid. So sure, pump into your bottles or ours, it doesn’t matter which one.”

I’m grateful Declan isn’t fazed in the slightest with helping me put on the first pump. It’s operated by a little pink and black remote to increase the suction. He holds it up without a word while I try to figure out the remote, not doing it for me—allowing me to get comfortable with it. Once I’m good I give him a shy smile. “Thank you.”

He shakes his head, andone side of his beautifully molded mouth slides up. “There is no need to tell me thank you. You are doing all the hard work right now.”

“Yeah, and you’re not freaked out or grossed out by any of it… And thank you because I’m kind of both of those right now. Except I can’t be with you not being, and so, yeah. Thank you.”

His lips are pressed against mine. “You’re welcome. Now are you sure you’re good for Aoife to come up? She understands if you’re not.”

“I am. I miss her.” I reassure him. And I really have. She came up to see me yesterday and promised me everything I needed would be ready when I got home.

She’s been so excited for the baby. Her daughter made it clear she had no interest in children and the only type of grandchildren she was giving Aoife was of the cat variety. And I’m grateful as hell Aoife’s daughter was pleased I’m giving Aoife the grandkids she always wanted—and not resentful of how much Aoife has been helping me with all of this.

The bottles fill up faster than I thought they would. Declan is back again, helping me put a lid on one and taking the other from me while I work to stem the flow.

“Oh, how embarrassing.” I cringe.

“There’s nothing to be embarrassed about.” Declan shakes his head as hescrews in another bottle to catch the milk still flowing. “You’re doing what needs to be done for our son.”

There’s something else he was going to say, I can tell. “What?”

He shakes his head. “Nothing.”

“Declan, what? You have to tell me. It’s gross?—”

“No, it’s fucking not.” The words are out of him harsh and fast.

I’m wide-eyed.

Sighing, “I am seriously wondering if it’s perverse to find you sexy as fuck right now. It’s not gross, but I sure as hell shouldn’t want you as much as I do right now. I mean, fucking hell you just had a baby and?— ”

I lean into him and allow my mouth to fall on his. “You’re really weird to find this hot. It’s totally perverse. And I love you so much right now.”

His chuckle runs over my mouth. “I’m going to spank you so hard. I swear.”

The bottle is filling up as I move it away from my breast. Studying my body, I cannot understand what he likes about it. But as I flick my eyes up to Declan, his eyes are glued to the tear of milk hanging from my nipple. “Do you want to try it?”

I barely finish the question before he lowers his head. I’m holding my breath as he licks the drop away. Closing my eyes, I send my hand into his hair and hold him in place. I feel the warm breath of air… Oh, oh. His mouth closes around my breast, and oh god. It’s fucked up—seriously perverse to love how it feels as he suckles from me. Unlike Killian, he didn’t suck at just the nipple, so there’s no pain at all.

When he stops, I sigh from the loss, my hand sliding down his body as he straightens. “Why did you let me do that? I’m not supposed to be getting hard over my wife feeding my son. And now I’m going to be hard just thinking of you feeding him. That’s seriously perverse?—”

The knock at the door of my room stops him and has me laughing. Oh. “Ouch. Fuck. The pain meds are wearing off. Come in.”

It’s Aoife.

Declan is up, pressing the button for the nurse. “I’ll call her for pain. Anything else?”

I shake my head, sure if there’s anything I need—he’ll know it before I will.