The beeping of machines becomes more hurried, and Santiago speaks. “It’s all right, Ivy. No need to get upset. If you can’t open your eyes right now, it’s okay. Shh. Just relax. You can open them later.”

I hear a chair scrape across the floor, and I want to squeeze his hand. Tell him not to let go. And I remember he came for me. He was racing to get to me.

But where was I?

Warm fingers brush my forehead. He’s pushing my hair back. I like when he does that. And then he’s close, and I can feel him, feel his warmth. Smell his scent. Familiar. I breathe it in.

I make a sound, but it’s hard to move. Everything feels heavy, but I hear a choked sound come from him as he lays his cheek against mine. I want to hug him. I want to hold on to him.

And when he pulls back, I try harder to open my eyes. I force all my energy into just opening my eyes, and I see him. I see his face close to mine, inches from mine. I see his hazel eyes. I see tears inside them, and then his hand is on my face cupping my cheek, and he’s so beautiful. Even sad like this, I love him so much. It’s all I can think about. All I can feel.

But then I hear the baby’s cry again. It’s coming from farther away, and I see Santiago’s mouth move into a smile when he hears it, and he shifts his gaze in the direction of the sound. I follow it too, and I see figures in white coats, maybe six of them standing around me, looking down at me, their faces blurring as I struggle to keep my eyes open. I look down the length of my bed to the door but stop, confused, and I close my eyes and force all of my energy to move my hand over my belly.

It’s flat.

They all go into a panic when the beeping becomes frantic, and Santiago’s hand is gone. He’s gone. And my baby’s gone. And all I feel is the trickle of a tear slide down along my temple before I sleep again.

38

Ivy

This is a different kind of sleep than it’s been. Not so heavy. And I hear voices as I start to wake up, wondering again where I am when my eyes open, and a stranger comes into blurry focus.

“Good morning, Ivy,” he says. “It’s me, Dr. Singh. It’s good to see you again.”