Chapter 33: Miracles Could Be Shattered
Vincent
"T-they're coming," I said breathlessly. My children are coming into this world. My children are about to be born. I feel the need to cry, but I can't. I have to be strong for Folashadé. I have to be the stable one of us two.
"Your Highness, we are going to need you to wear this hospital gown and face mask. It is essential," Ms. Fields said, snatching me out of my dazing thoughts. She handed me a green hospital gown and face mask.
I pulled the gown over my head and then the face mask. She handed me a pair of green gloves and led me to the bed where Shadé was lying breathlessly.
"She'll need you for support, Your Highness," she told me as she pulled a chair beside the bed.
"I'll take it. Thank you," I said, taking the chair the rest of the way to Shadé's bed.
She was covered in sweat and her hair was frizzed in countless places. But, even though she looks like she's been through it all, she is still beautiful.
A few of her kink-like-curls were sticking to her forehead by the sweat she was producing. I placed my hand over her forehead and smoothed her curls out of her face.
"I'm here, just for you, Love," I said, staring down at her lovingly.
"Vin-cent...Ooooh. Please make it stop," she begged. "Owwwe," she cried agonizingly.
I turned to Dr. Hammond who was standing beside the midwife, who I didn't know the name of. They were recording the ultrasound of the twins.
"Doctor, she's almost ten centimeters," Ms. Fields said urgently.
Already!?
"I can see the head," she said.
Curiously, I wanted to see what the head looked like too, but when I got a better look, I nearly puked. Why did I do that? Why? The other three nurses didn't seem affected by the sight of seeing a baby's head stuck in a woman's vagina. Hell, the doctor didn't even seem bothered by it. Maybe there was something wrong with me.
"Okay, I'm going to need two people to hold up her knees. Now, everyone, the baby is coming," Dr. Hammond demanded as he positioned himself before the horrid sight.
Two brunette nurses decided to hold up both of Shadé's knees as she pushed.
"Ahhhhhhh," she screamed. She suddenly grabbed at my hospital gown, causing me to avert my attention to her instead of the Doctor's concentrated visage.
"Vincent this is all your fucking fault, you fucking...prick," she paused to push again. "Ahhhhh...ahhhhh! When I'm done giving birth, I'm. Going. To. Fucking. Kill. Youu-ahhhhh," she wailed again.
If I didn't know she was joking, hopefully, her threat would've been considered treason. But, since I love her so much, I was sort of tempted to see what kind of punishment she would give me for putting her through this.
"I love you, too," I said quietly. I know she hadn't heard me. As long as she knew it, it was fine.
"Come on, just a few more pushes. Push! Yes, that's good. On three. One, two, three, push," Dr. Hammond coached. "Someone get a blanket ready!"
Unknowingly, one of the nurses already had a blanket prepared.
Against my will and utter disgust of seeing a baby's head being pushed out of a vagina, I pushed my fear aside and looked down, between her thighs.
Just as I looked down, however, the baby was pushed out. It was red, very red, and very small. That small, tiny creature was my baby. I helped create a miracle. I watched it be born into the world. I'm a father.
The baby's sharp, piercing cry brought me to reality as I felt a tear fall down my cheek. I wasn't a crier, but dammit, the feeling of being a father has to be the best feeling in the world. I would rather be a father to my children than a king to a country. That was how amazing it felt.
"Could...could I cut the baby's cord," I cautiously asked Ms. Fields.
"Of course," she said.
I reluctantly left Shadé's side and approached the nurse.
The nurse handed me the scissors as I carefully cut the umbilical cord. This baby was a girl. It was Valencia. Valencia Milan Alexander.
The nurse smiled and headed to where the newborn checkups took place.
I turned around to see Ms. Fields pressing down on Shadé's stomach as she pushed as hard as she could.
"Oh, dear Lord! Get this baby out of me, please," she cried throwing her head back in stress.
"One more push and this baby is out, come on," the Doctor urged once again. From my view, I could definitely see that this baby didn't have as much hair as little Valencia.
"Gahhhhhhhh," Shadé screamed as she pushed with all her might. The baby hadn't cried immediately. It was slightly smaller than, but, just as red in skin tone as Valencia.
"Blanket, blanket," Dr. Hammond said, handing the baby to a different nurse with a blanket. She wrapped the baby protectively as I approached her.
"It's a boy, Your Highness. We have a little prince," she said joyously.
I gently cut my son's umbilical cord; Caine Alva Alexander. However, that's when he began to cry. His cry wasn't as loud and piercing as his sister's. It was softer, lower, and it kind of scared me.
"Fuuuck," I heard Shadé bellow behind me. I turned around just in time to see her pushing out the placentas. Gross.
"Folashadé," I said, coming close to the edge of her bed. "We have a little boy and a little girl," I informed her, leaning down to kiss her smiling lips.
"I'm so proud of you, Love. I'm so very proud of you," I said, embracing her affectionately in my arms.
"Thank you, Vince. Take pictures of them for me please. I want to see them," she weakly said as she pulled away from me.
"We're going to get her cleaned up. If you want, you and her brother could see how the babies are doing. They're in the NICU. It's further down the hall, to your left," Ms. Fields said as she brought in a mobile bed.
"Thank you," I said before pulling off my hospital gown. I headed toward the door, and opened it to find Ezra walking down the hall.
"She good or nah," he asked, coming up beside me.
"She's fine. We can see the twins," I said, gesturing for him to follow me to the NICU.
"The babies okay, too," he asked, concernedly.
"That's what I'm going to go see," I replied.
When we reached the NICU, I held my breath as my heart raced.
I spotted Valencia being placed into a large, clear container. There were four circular holes on both widths of the machine and one in the front and back.
"What's this," Ezra asked cautiously.
"Who are you," the nurse asked, nasally as she sized Ezra's frame.
Before Ezra could reply I interjected. "He's the babies' uncle. We were both wondering what this is, that's all," I said politely.
"This is an incubator," she said dismissively.
"What are her measurements," I asked, ignoring her rude demeanor.
Her face slightly softened. "Well, she's one and a half kilograms and forty-two centimeters (three point three ounces and sixteen and a half inches). She's going to need to stay in the hospital until she can learn to breathe on her own and develop the sucking reflex. For now, she'll be fed by a feeding tube that leads directly to her stomach through her mouth. She'll be fed regularly, six times a d-," she was abruptly cut off by the nurse caring for Caine.
"Hey, Margaret. This one isn't passing the hearing tests," the nurse said, raising alarms in both Ezra and myself.
"W-what," we both questioned in unison.
"Please don't be alarmed. It's common for newborns to fail their first and second hearing screens due to their constant moving and some mucus probably being in the ear," the first nurse informed.
I wasn't easily convinced. "But, how will I know he isn't suffering from hearing loss?"
"We'll have the next hearing screen when they get a bit older," she said.
"So...can we hold them...or nah," Ezra questioned.
"Unfortunately, no. They're much too fragile to be held at their delicacy. But, after a few more days, they'll be able to be held. We'll try our hardest to ensure that the babies survive," she said, her eyes on me.
"Hmm, I'm going to go check on Folashadé," Ezra said as he patted me on the shoulder before leaving.
I was staring at my son, Caine. He was so small, so fragile. He was so delicate, it seemed if the nurse made a slip during the infant checkup, he'd break. It scared me to see his tiny arms slowly experiencing the air around him.
"What are his measurements," I asked, approaching the nurse, who seemed a bit nicer.
"This little guy weighs at one kilogram and lengths up to thirty-eight centimeters (two point two pounds and fifteen inches). The little guy's a tiny soldier," she informed as she began attaching cords and wires to Caine's little body.
Watching my son being hooked up to so many machines gave me a heartache. It was too much for me. He was so little, just under the length of my forearm from what I can see.
"You can touch him, but you can't hold him, just yet. This CPAP right here is going to help them breathe since their lungs are far too immature to function," She said, gently placing a large air mask over Caine's face. It stretched all the way across his little face.
"I know it's important for a baby to have skin to skin contact with its parents, but I'm afraid that's not the case," she said, longingly staring down at Caine's resting body.
"It's fine. As long as they're both alive, all is well," I said, opening one of the circular doors on the walls of the incubator.
I stuck my index finger in and gently touched his arm. He was so fragile, I didn't want to put any pressure on him whatsoever.
"Hey, lad. It's your daddy," I cooed, smoothing my finger against his soft palms. The pad of my thumb was the width of his palm.
His hand gripped my finger and held it tightly.
I have a son and a daughter. I had a son and daughter brought into this world by the woman I want to spend the rest of my life with. This is a miracle. I didn't deserve this. I didn't deserve Folashadé to be my future-wife. But, even after I'd put her through so much, she still said yes and she still gave birth to my angels.
"Is it okay if I take photos of them," I asked, still observing my son's silent movements.
"It's fine. Just don't use the flash," she said.
"Okay," I said, taking out my mobile and switching it to my camera app. I don't use my camera very often, but a moment like this, it's essential to capture everything.
"He's a very handsome boy; just like his father," the nurse said, hovering over my shoulder. I realized now that she was a bit too close.
"Yes, he is. Thank you," I said as I kissed my hand and placed it on Caine's head. It was my way of indirectly giving him a kiss.
I turned around, avoiding the lustful look the nurse was sending me and approached Valencia's incubator.
Now that she was cleaned up, I could definitely see that Valencia would favor her mother in skin tone. She had more of a darker complexion than her brother, even though the redness was slightly still there.
But, that made me wonder.
Are they mine?
I'm completely white; English, Irish, and Polish blood. Folashadé is full Ethiopian on both mother and father side. Although she wasn't born in Ethiopia, her parents were. If a black woman and white man come together to make a baby, shouldn't the baby be a mixed color? Then why does my 'daughter' look more like her mother?!
"Excuse me, what is the color of her eyes," I asked, trying to refrain my anger from surfacing.
"Margaret said they were brown," she replied cautiously, probably sensing the strain in my voice.
"She can't do this to me. She can't, she can't, she fucking can't," I exclaimed, holding myself back from breaking something.
"U-um, Your Highness, I'm going to have to ask you to leave," the nurse said frighteningly.
The babies began to wail and that frustrated me even more.
"I want a DNA test," I demanded, clenching and unclenching my fists.
"I'm afraid we can't do that. The babies are too fragile an-," I immediately cut her off.
"Okay! Okay! Alright, that's fine," I said loudly. I turned around and quickly snapped a photo of Folashadé's daughter. Looking at the picture and believing that this baby isn't mine hurt me and angered me.
I speed walked down the hall, nearly running into Ms. Fields. I pushed past her, but was swiftly tugged back by my shirt.
"Your Highness, we're going to need you and Ms. Hakim to fill out their birth certificates," she said.
"I'm not filling out anything until I get a fucking DNA test," I hissed angrily with a sneer.
I yanked my shirt out of her loose grasp and continued my way to Folashadé's room.
"Your Highness, wait," I heard her plead as she followed after me.
I slammed open the door to find Folashadé sleeping and Ezra's eyes on me, curiously.
I ignored him and walked to Shadé's bed.
"Wake up," I hollered, not receiving a response at first.
"Bruh, what you doing," I heard Ezra ask.
"Wake the hell up, Folashadé," I said, louder as I began to shake her shoulders, but not too violently.
"W-what," she croaked incoherently, her eyes opening at a slow pace.
"We need to talk. Now. And without your brother here," I said sternly.
"Your Highness, she is too weak to speak. Please let her rest," Ms. Fields said worriedly.
"Vincent I'm too tired. Please, another time," she said, turning away from me.
"No, we need to talk no-," I was abruptly interrupted by someone pulling me back by my shoulders. "Get your fucking hands off of me," I shouted as I shoved the person away from me. Seconds later, I heard a loud clatter of metal.
"Go get help," Shadé said.
"Nigga, who the fuck you think you pushing," Ezra yelled as he picked himself up out of the metallic mess.
"Ezra...stop...please," Shadé weakly said, her body turned toward us.
"The fuck you mean stop!? I'm 'bout to fuck his ass up for putting his hands on the wrong one," Ezra hollered.
"You can fucking try," I said. I wanted him to. If he hits me, his ass will be the one in an English prison, not me.
"Ezra! Noooo," Shadé screamed just as I felt myself being lifted and then slammed into the ground. My head and back collided firsthand with the hospital's linoleum floors.
Ezra's fist landed on my right cheek as he held me down by the scruff of my shirt.
I managed to connect my fist with his jawline, sending him falling beside me. That was my chance to attack him. I straddled him and began punching his face in. Somehow, his hands grasped my neck and mine went for his throat. We were at a battle of choking one another.
"Vincent! Ezra! Stop it, please," Shadé's cries went unnoticed by the two of us. We were concentrated on killing one another.
Ezra's face was beginning to turn red, and I knew that mine was turning an even darker red. It was just a matter of time before either of us were deprived of oxygen.
Suddenly I felt arms wrap around me from behind, attempting to pull me off of him. However, they were futile in their attempt. But, their arms sent a wave of warmth through me that almost, almost, persuaded me to release my tight hold on Ezra's throat.
The warm feeling didn't last long as the arms were detangled from around me, being replaced by six stronger arms. My attention was now divided as I realized that Ezra and I were being separated by security.
I glanced around the room to find Folashadé being helped into a wheelchair from the ground. "How...old will my...twins have to be...to travel by...plane," I heard her breathlessly ask.
"Until they're healthy enough to breathe on their own with no complications."
"You're so fucking lucky I didn't have my gun on me," Ezra said as he and two security guards left the room.
"I'm sorry, Sire," the guard behind me said as cold handcuffs were placed around my wrists.