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“How’s the jaundice?” I ask.
“It’s not unusual for babies to have jaundice. With treatment, it should clear up in a couple of days. She’s already had a round of phototherapy.”
I gaze down at Hazel. “Hello, sweet pea,” I whisper, not wanting to wake Melanie. “How are you?”
She stares up at me intently, as if she’s listening to my voice.
“Can we sit with her on the sofa?” I ask the nurse.
The woman nods. “Sure. Would you like to feed her a bottle?”
“Oh, yes. Thank you.”
“I’ll go to the nursery to prepare one.”
The nurse leaves the room, and I carry Hazel to the sofa and sit beside Jamie. “Do you want to hold her?”
He takes her from me and cradles her against his chest.
I grab my phone and take some pictures of Jamie holding Hazel. Watching the two of them together brings a lump to mythroat. This moment is a dream come true for both of us. I reach out and stroke her hair. “She looks so small in your hands.”
Jamie smiles. “She’s so light.” He begins gently patting her back. “I’m used to holding the older babies. I’d forgotten how small they are in the beginning.”
Half an hour later, the nurse returns to the room with a tiny bottle of formula. She glances at the bed. “You’re awake. How are you feeling?”
I’m surprised to see Melanie’s awake. She hasn’t made a sound. She must have been watching us from her bed. “Pretty good,” she tells the nurse. “I think I need to visit the little girl’s room soon.”
“Just a moment, and I’ll help you,” the nurse says. But first, she brings us the baby bottle and a soft burb cloth. It’s a tiny bottle with just a few ounces of warm formula in it.
“Do you want to feed her?” Jamie asks me. Without waiting for my answer, he transfers her to my arms.
I offer Hazel the bottle. As soon as the nipple touches her lips, she opens her mouth and eagerly attempts to latch on. It takes her a few moments to get the hang of it, but soon she begins sucking.
Feeling guilty that we’re the first to feed Hazel, I catch Melanie’s gaze. “Do you want to feed her?”
With a melancholy smile, Melanie shakes her head. “I’m glad you guys are here. Now I won’t have to worry about her. I know you’ll take good care of her and that you’ll be great parents.”
I’m blown away by Melanie’s acceptance of our presence. I don’t detect any resentment. I don’t sense any indecision on her part. She’s acting like this is a done deal. For the first time since Hazel was born, I’m beginning to think this adoption is going to happen.
The nurse helps Melanie out of bed and walks her to the private bathroom. After the door closes behind them, I glancedown at Hazel. When I see Jamie tracing her face with the tip of his index finger, my throat tightens.
His touch is so gentle.
“I’ll never be able to see her face,” he says. “I’ll never see her smile.”
It’s rare that Jamie refers to his limitations. He’s done so well coming to terms with his loss of sight. He never complains. In fact, he’s more likely to joke about it than lament the loss.
“You may not see her smile, but you’ll hear her laugh,” I remind him. “And chances are, you’ll be the one making her laugh.”
He smiles. “I certainly hope so.” He leans down and lightly kisses her forehead. “Hey, little one. I’m your dad.”
After she’s had half the bottle, I prop her up on my shoulder and pat her back until she gives a quiet, ladylike burp. Then I hand her back to Jamie so he can feed her the rest of the bottle.
When Melanie returns from the bathroom, she settles back into bed and turns off the bedside light. I realize it’s almost midnight. Poor Melanie must be exhausted.
I’m about to ask her if she wants us to leave when she says, “You two are welcome to stay. But if you need to leave, just call the night nurse. She’ll take Hazel to the nursery.”
“If it’s okay with you, we’ll stay,” Jamie says. “Hazel can sleep in the bassinette, and Molly and I can doze on the sofa. We’ll take care of her during the night so you can sleep.”
