Building Blocks - Cassidy Shay (funny books to read .txt) 📗

I’m still not sure why I don’t get to meet then yet, but I’ll just have to wait. I might even pee on my brother’s picture while I’m waiting. I still have these pesky tubes, wires, and monitors hooked up to me. They are such a nuisance. But if I can… just… reach my foot up and… There! That pesky tube in my nose won’t be bothering me any more!

Every day, Mommy comes in to see me. Sometimes, she’s allowed to hold me, to cradle me in her cool, pale arms. Sometimes, but not as often as Mommy, Daddy comes in as well. I’ve met Grandma, Grandpa, Nana, Papa, Aunt Robin, Uncle Derek, and heard of many others. I still haven’t met those siblings, though. I wonder what’s taking them so long.

Doctors and nurses come in all day, checking the wires and monitors, always making sure they aren’t loose. Beeps and low hums are what I fall asleep to and what I wake up to. Maybe this big world isn’t as beautiful as I though. Think I should have stayed in that small place longer?

I have a new neighbor now. His name is Connor, and we have a special way of talking so that our parents and the doctors can’t understand. We are both hooked up to blood pressure monitors that make noises when the pressure’s off. We have our own code, and no one’s figured it out yet. We talk about many things… The annoying things that the doctors insist on checking every day, and we talk of our homes and families that we can’t wait to meet.

Days and weeks go by. Finally, after almost two months, I’m lifted out of my bed and carried down the hall that I haven’t seen since my first day here. The big glass doors open automatically, and I see three familiar figured standing just on the other side. It takes me a minute to place them, but I realize that these are my siblings. The ones I’ve heard so much about, but never seen. I try to reach out, and the older sister places her finger inside my palm. As I grip her finger, I realize that this is an entirely different world than the one I’ve been living in so far.

Only a couple more days go by, and I’m placed in a car seat for an entire hour. The nurses call it a test, but I haven’t figured out what it is I’m being tested on. It doesn’t take long for me to fall asleep.

I wake up when someone starts carrying the car seat. Down a hallway, into an elevator, and into the lobby. Down a small flight of stairs, out a big, revolving door, and into the cool, April morning air. I look around and decide that this really is a big and beautiful world, and it all belongs to me.
Jolie

“But Grandma. Please take us. We want to see this!”

“No, Cassie. We’ll take you down tonight, or tomorrow morning. But you don’t need to be there right now.”

“We have school tomorrow. Please please please take us!”

“No. Don’t ask again. The delivery room is no place for a child.”

I storm off into my room. I’m not a child. I’m almost twelve!

I grab the phone off my bed and dial the number. It’s one that, in these last two months, I’ve memorized. I could recite it frontwards, backwards, upside down, and right side up. It’s the number that goes directly to my mom’s hospital room.

“Hello?” She sounds tired, drowsy. It’s not surprising, considering all the drugs they have her on right now.

“Hi, Mom. It’s Cassie. Grandma won’t take us.” There’s a slight pause, where my mom tells my dad what’s going on. He left yesterday, to spend time with my mom, so that he could be there if the baby came. So far, nothing’s happened. But my mom knows that it’ll happen today.

“Alright, honey,” I hear. “I’m going to call JJ, and see if she’ll pick you guys up and bring you down. Does that sound alright? I’ll call you back in a minute. I love you.”
A click, and I throw the phone on the bed again. “Jake, Shelsey!” I call. They poke their heads out of their bedroom doors. “Get ready. JJ’s going to come get us. We’re going to see the baby!” We all cheer, and get dressed. Even though it’s almost 11, we’re still in our jammies.

Mom calls back to confirm that JJ will pick us up, and we’re waiting on the front porch when she pulls up. As we pile into her black SUV, we wave at Lawson. He’s only two, so he’s staying home.

No one talks on the ride to the hospital. Normally the drive takes about an hour, but in her excitement, JJ pulls into the parking lot in only 45 minutes. We race into the hospital, rush to the elevator. Once we get to Floor 4, we run to Mom’s room. By now, we pretty much have the hospital memorized.

We’re only in Mom’s private room for a few minutes. I see all her art stuff, her computer, and the piles of movies and books. I can’t imagine being stuck in one room for two months. After a few minutes, the nurses take my mom into a delivery room. We all follow, excited and nervous. Who will our baby sister be?

It’s not long before the doctor comes in with a whole herd of nurses, and they prepare my mom to deliver her fifth and final child. Luckily for us kids, it’s over quickly.

“Do you kids want to cut the cord?” asks the doctor. He holds out a pair of small scissors. We all shake our heads. No way am I touching that.

My dad steps up and takes the scissors, cuts the cord. By now, he’s kind of a professional.

We all watch with bright eyes as they clean off our sister. They measure her, weigh her, wrap her up. Mom gets to hold her for a few minutes while the nurses clean everything up. Dad looks over at us, his three oldest children. “Lawson’s a big brother now. Can you believe it?” I think about my little brother, not even two years old. No, I can’t believe it.

Then, Dr. Lovelace tells us the news. “She’s going to have to go to the NICU now. She won’t be there long, a few weeks at the most. But she’s only 36 weeks, so we need to make sure that she’ll be okay.” A nurse tenderly removes the baby from my mom’s arms.

My dad and JJ take Jake, Shelsey, and I downstairs to the food court while they get Mom cleaned up. As we’re sitting at a table, Dad informs us that the baby’s name is Jolie. “Jolie Sinclaire.”

After about twenty minutes, we head back upstairs. Not to the delivery room, but to the second floor. Good ol’ NICU. As we enter the small lobby, I glance around me. I look at the couches, the TV, the computer. There’s lockers and kitchenette to the right, and toys for little kids to the left. This place used to be my second home.

I sigh. Will I never get to see a baby from behind the glass of a regular nursery? Or am I doomed to be stuck in the Newborn Intensive Care Unit every time?

A week and a half later, Dad drives us back down to Boise, to my grandma’s house. Mom is waiting there, Jolie in her arms. We stand in the kitchen, passing her around. When it’s my turn to hold her, I look down at her face.

Her eyes take up most of her face, and the rest of the face isn’t too pretty either. Her hair is brown, with blonde tips. I didn’t know that happened naturally.

Still cradling her in my arms, I look around at my family.

Mom and Dad are in the corner, Dad’s arm around her shoulders. Jake holds Lawson, and Shelsey stands next to him. I look down at Jolie again. Finally, our family is complete.

Imprint

Text: Cassie Hoene
Publication Date: 12-20-2012

All Rights Reserved

Dedication:
This is to my siblings, Jake, Shelsey, Max, Lawson, and Jolie, and my mom. We've all been to Hell and back together, and I wouldn't choose another family if I could.