‘You know, if there’s a glimmer of light in all of this,’ Melissa added, and crossed to Jade and gently placed a hand on her shoulder, ‘Amber isn’t suffering respiratory distress and her tiny lungs appear to be coping so she didn’t need a ventilator. I am amazed and a little bewildered by this and it does give me reason to give you the fifty-fifty chance ratio. Without that, her survival would be much lower than fifty per cent. At birth, I placed her survival at less than twenty per cent.’
Jade took another deep breath. The odds were improving. However, the slight degree of optimism the doctor had imparted didn’t bring her peace of mind. Jade wanted the one hundred per cent guarantee that she knew in reality no one could provide.
This environment was second nature to her, yet now being in neonatal ICU made her fearful. Every day, as a neonatal nurse, she cared for premature infants, yet seeing Amber needing the same level of intense assistance made her feel vulnerable. She had to pull herself together. Not for her sake but for Amber’s. She had to be able to process what was happening and, if called upon, make the right and informed decisions regarding her niece’s care.
‘And you moved her from the open radiant warmer last night?’ Jade asked, appreciating and finding a level of comfort in the compassion she had tried to deflect.
‘Yes. When you fell asleep for a few minutes in the early hours I decided that the increased stimulation from light and noise and the associated risk of decreased growth and weight gain was greater than the disadvantages of the incubator. She is just too tiny to lose any further body mass. The next twenty-four hours will be critical.’
‘Then it looks like we’re here together for another long day, Amber, but you will get through this,’ Jade promised aloud to the sleeping infant, before adding silently, And I will never leave your side. Never. Trying unsuccessfully to quash her unshed tears, she turned away before Melissa witnessed her breakdown. Through a watery blur, she watched the shaky breathing of her niece’s tiny body and felt so helpless it was overwhelming.
She had never felt so totally powerless before in her life. She wished she had saved every forgotten wish from each birthday cake over the past twenty-six years and could tie them together to wish for the one thing she wanted with all her heart. If only she could gently lift the spindly bundle from her tiny glass crib and softly whisper that everything would be all right. But she couldn’t. There was no guarantee that everything would be all right. There were no promises of a future for this little girl clinging tenaciously to life. And if she did have a future it would be one without her mother and father.
The days passed slowly, but each hour that Amber lived gave Jade hope. The hospital granted her compassionate leave to focus on Amber. The baby’s weight was stabilizing and the doctors looked less worried, as did the neonatal nurses, who were all friends as well as colleagues. None of them provided false hope but neither did they talk about the possibility that Amber might not survive.
Her heart ached for the baby she had been with for four days. A baby as wanted and loved as any child could be. She was the daughter that Ruby and David had dreamed of and planned for so many years. It made the bleakness of the prognosis so much harder to handle. She worried that not having her mother’s love and natural bonding could add to the complications of Amber’s early entry into the world. Although Jade wasn’t her mother, she swore to herself she would be the next best thing and do everything in her power for the little girl at that moment and for the rest of her life. Amber had lost the mother she had never known but she would never lose Jade.
She would spend her life making it up to her niece for sending her parents on the holiday that had claimed their lives. And she would spend her life being the woman that Ruby and David would want raising their little girl.
But Jade was also struggling with her own grief. Grief the little girl knew nothing about. Over those first few days it was almost too much to bear. Not only was she close to crippled with worry about her niece, but she had also lost her sister. A sister she’d loved with all of her heart.
Ruby and Jade had been close all their lives and even more so after the loss of their parents. Ruby had been, in Jade’s mind, the most wonderful sister in the world. She had been kind, and funny and nurturing. It was as if half of Jade was gone. Ripped from her life without warning. No chance to say goodbye. No opportunity to thank her sister for everything she had done. All the big sister advice she had given over the years. The advice that Jade had always appreciated but mostly ignored. The tears they had shed over boys who hadn’t been worth it. The late-night calls to chat about nothing much but which had somehow lasted for hours.
It was all gone. She would never laugh with her sister again. She would never watch David look lovingly at his wife and hear them make plans and talk about their daughter’s education. How Ruby would tell him that the little girl would be brighter than anyone else in the class because he was the father, and how he would say she would be without doubt the prettiest because she would look like her mother.
At times, Jade would tell them they sounded like a bad midday movie but their love for each other had been undeniable and real.
With that in mind, Jade held herself together. She owed it to Ruby and David to be there for their daughter and surround her with the love they would have lavished on her.
And then there was the added burden of guilt that sat heavily on her shoulders. No matter which way Jade looked at the situation, she felt responsible for Amber’s early entry into this world. She had played the scene over and over in her mind since the accident. Why had she booked the holiday for them? If only she hadn’t given them the present of a few days away in Palm Springs, they wouldn’t have been a part of that terrible accident. And Amber would still be safely inside her mother with another ten weeks until her much-anticipated birth.
But instead, Jade was arranging the funeral of Amber’s parents and staying strong for the tiny daughter they would never be able to love. She knew they both had a battle ahead but they would face it together. All they had now in the world was each other.
‘WE ARE NOW commencing our descent into Adelaide. Please ensure your tray table is secured and your seat is in the upright position. We will be landing in fifteen minutes and you will be disembarking at gate twenty-three. Current time in Adelaide is eleven-thirty. Your luggage will be available for collection on Carousel Five. On behalf of the cabin crew, we hope you enjoyed your flight and will fly again with us in the future.’
Jade wound up the cord of her headset before she tucked it away after the flight attendant’s announcement, then, smiling, she looked over at her niece, still sleeping soundly. She looked like a tiny angel. Her little round face was resting in the pillow, her tight, strawberry-blonde curls a little messy, her arm tightly holding her rag doll and her bright blue eyes still hidden from the world. It was the second leg of their travel. The fifteen-hour-long haul from Los Angeles to Sydney had been followed by a shorter flight to Adelaide.
The trip to Australia was not a journey that Jade had wanted to make initially and one that she had been delaying, but she had known it was the right thing to do. David’s mother, Maureen, and stepfather, Arthur, had wanted so much for their granddaughter to spend some time in the town where their son, Amber’s father, had grown up. So here they both were, about to touch down in a city that she remembered from David’s conversations but a place she knew nothing about. Her stomach