Strictly Professional

67: Sacrifice

ELLE
You And Me-Niall Horan

Recovery was a lot harder than what I expected. When people talk about pregnancy and labor, they always tend to leave out what comes after the baby is actually born. I've never felt so sore, so physically drained and so weak in my entire life. All the medication I was under helped numb most of the pain, which wasn't as bad as it would be if I had given birth naturally. With our daughter safe and sound, I had the opportunity to rest as much as possible during the week I stayed at the hospital. My stiches were mostly healed, though I was told to take it easy and stay in bed for another week.

I was prescribed with new medicine and supplements for my iron deficiently and my anemia, which sounded scary, but was something I could deal with. I just had to make sure I kept up with my medication and my doctor's appointments, maintain a balanced diet and take it easy if I ever felt lightheaded. I had a list of what I should keep an eye out for when it came to symptoms that would signify anything that needed me to go to the doctor. I was sure Niall had memorized it within the first ten minutes we had it.

He had been there, by my side for the entirety of my pregnancy, going above and beyond to take care of me. But that seemed like nothing compared to that one week I was in the hospital. He would only leave for a bit over an hour and only if both his and my mother were with me. He'd sleep on the couch made into a tiny bed for him in my room, no matter how many times I insisted he went home. He'd make sure I was constantly checked up on by nurses or doctors and that I had everything I could possibly need, even if I didn't ask for it. He always had a habit of spoiling me, and I had a feeling that habit was going to be passed down to our daughter as well.

He took me to her every day, just like he promised that he would. I'd sit and watch her for as much time as I was allowed to, counting each and every one of her breaths. It seemed to me that she grew just a bit every day, or maybe that was just my imagination. I loved watching her, and I loved watching Niall do the same. He loved her so much already, I could tell. There was not any change in him, or any specific thing he did. He just looked different when he was with her. He looked calmer, happier. More than he's ever looked before. I couldn't believe I was able to do that for him. After all those months of struggle and heartbreak, we were finally here. I gave him the one thing I knew he was longing for, and he hasn't stopped telling me how grateful he was since the day I gave birth.

Both of our mothers were in London, as well as Anna. The three of them took care of everything we hadn't had the time to do. They got a carseat, they picked up the changing table I had already chosen, they even got us a bassinet that attached to our bed. They got us everything that the baby could possibly need for the next month after she came home, as well as an excessive amount of baby clothes that I doubt would fit her any time soon. They really went all out when Niall gave them his credit card and told them to get whatever they deemed necessary. They were so excited, and they hadn't even gotten to meet her yet. No one has. All of our friends came here, saw both of us and congratulated us, but no one had been allowed into the NICU. But they understood once we explained to them what was going on.

I was both looking forward and dreading the day I'd be discharged. I was looking forward to it because it meant I'd finally get to go home, but I dreaded it because I knew I'd go there empty handed, without my daughter. That broke me, and I doubt I'll be able to get any sleep until the day I had her by my side, safe and sound and nestled in her little bassinet. But inevitably, that day was here. Niall and I went to see her one last time before Dr. Garcia paid me one last visit, checking my vitals and giving me a final examination before clearing me. My stitches were healing properly, which was the biggest concern she had. My immune system was not at its best shape, and my body wasn't healing as it normally would. I was told that was a side effect of anemia, and that I'd have to learn to live with it. I'd have to be weary of getting colds and flus, I'd have to be careful to not get sick with anything worse than that. And in the case that I did, I'd instantly have to be seen by a doctor. It was something doable, and I thanked her again before she left the room.