Father for Her Newborn Baby
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Lynne Marshall
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Prologue
LIZZIE SILVA PUMPED the air. “Yes!”
I’ve got a job. Thank you, world! She glanced at Flora, nestled in her arm having just finished nursing, and then went completely still, afraid the sudden movement might set the baby off again. Maybe it had been the turmoil of her pregnancy, and stress and medical school had certainly taken a toll, but Flora had been born crying and had rarely stopped since. Or maybe it was because Flora sensed Lizzie didn’t have a clue about being a mother. Her heart squeezed as it always did when she thought about that. But wouldn’t things be better now?
She held her breath and lifted Flora to her shoulder and patted her back. “We’re going to have our first adventure together,” she cooed as Flora burped. “Good girl.” As if the delivery and first three months of her daughter’s life hadn’t been adventure enough already.
She’d just ended a phone call with her favorite professor from medical school, the man who’d become a surrogate father, probably out of pity, or guilt, but nevertheless. Even now, since she’d broken up with his son, he was looking out for her and his granddaughter.
“We’re moving to Wyoming. Can you imagine?” She smiled and rubbed her cheek against her baby’s fuzzy head. So far, so good; Flora was sleeping. At last!
Never in her life had she felt such love. This precious little child would know how to trust because Lizzie promised with all of her heart never to let her down. Ever since Flora had been born, she’d dreamed of getting her out of the city, of giving her a better start than she’d had. Now this job opportunity had come out of nowhere, as if answering her prayer, and deep down she believed better things would follow if she said yes.
She’d walked off her last temporary job at the Boston clinic dealing with drug addicts. Especially when she’d had to counsel the meth head who was pregnant. It’d hit too close to home because of her own mother. Add in her new-parent stress and little sleep and she’d quit that very afternoon.
Flora suffered with colic and kept her up most nights, and Lizzie was always tired, but she’d never leave her daughter. She knew how it felt to be left behind as a baby by her mother, and ten years later by her grandmother, even though the dear woman couldn’t control the stroke that had killed her. She knew the constant disappointment as foster home after foster home had let her go. Until she was fifteen and met Janie. Thank God for Janie, yet even she’d let her down. Why did people choose to keep cancer a secret? She would have dropped everything to be by her side. But then maybe that was what Janie had been afraid of. The woman had been intent on helping Lizzie get a hand up in life.
If it weren’t for Janie Tuttle she’d never be a new graduate doctor, licensed and all. She never would have reached for the stars with a dream of going to college.
She cuddled Flora closer as the baby finally settled into deep sleep. She’d been at her wit’s end all evening, as usual, not knowing what she was doing wrong, or why her baby cried so much. Not to mention worrying about how she’d support the two of them. She’d finally calmed Flora by nursing her again, then the cell phone had buzzed, and, as she’d often found herself doing at any little noise, she’d held her breath waiting for her daughter to start crying again. But this time she hadn’t. Then the new temporary job offer had come. Beggars couldn’t be choosers. Maybe this was a good omen?
No matter how much of a challenge this little one was, she loved how her child smelled and felt, and how she breathed unevenly. Basically, she loved everything about her, even when she was inconsolable with colic. Could the colic somehow be her fault? Mother’s love cut to the center of her most sacred feelings. Poor kid got stuck with her. Tears welled in her eyes. “I’ll never let you down, sweetheart. I promise. Never,” she whispered, shaking. There was no way she’d ever be able to live up to that promise, since she basically didn’t know what she was doing as a mother. Yet she hoped her unstoppable love would get through to her daughter.
Fear shuddered through her for her daughter’s sake, as she worried that life might prove her wrong. This time she blamed it on postpartum hormones rather than her mounting insecurity as a parent. She had to face the fact she was a mess, a total wreck.
All the street smarts in the world couldn’t make up for not having a clue how to be a mother, and the tough facade clearly didn’t work with parenting.
She’d been anything but a skilled mother so far, feeling nothing short of a feeding machine, completely out of her depth. Due to Flora’s colic, she functioned on minimal sleep; most days she felt like some kind of half monster, half human thing slogging through the hours. But so far they’d both survived. Somehow.
Becoming a mother had been a shock. Especially without backup. Dave Rivers had been another in a long list of disappointments, turning out to be nothing more than a biological father. And the most recent disappointment, not getting a residency at any of the hospitals where she’d applied, was further proof she was a screw-up. Then walking off the only job she could find...
She gingerly laid Flora in her cradle, held her breath again and watched the baby settle into deeper sleep. Whew. Lizzie sat on her own bed in the single-room apartment she’d rented all through medical school, trying her best not to make a single sound.
Panic had riddled her when she’d gotten the same rejection five different times. And she hadn’t exactly been able to hit the pavement looking for work when she’d been about to pop with a baby on board, so she’d taken whatever she could get—the free clinic. She’d never felt more helpless in her adult life, but she’d gone into labor and become a mother, and now three months later was still trying to get her life back on track.
Lying back on her pillow, she willed the negative thoughts from her mind, choosing to take the opportunity to rest while Flora slept. She had a chance to start afresh, to give her baby an opportunity she’d never had. Dr. Rivers had promised the small medical clinic could accommodate her every need. She needed the job and believed it could be the start of a new life for her and her daughter. She needed that new start. Please, please, make it so.
Anxiety grabbed hold again. There was so much to do before Saturday when she’d board a plane for Wyoming and begin their new start.
Thank you, Dr. Rivers, for believing in me. And for helping these last few months.
She had a job.
Yes!
