HER BABY'S SECRET FATHER Read Online Free

her mesh padded panties. A thought about senior citizens wearing similar underwear for bladder control popped into her head. She couldn’t wait to change into a fresh pair, and wondered if they might come in a French-cut style. For the first time since becoming a mother, Jaynie smiled at her own corny joke. Heck, maybe there was even a thong version?
    The intravenous line of saline and sugar water felt more like a ball and chain. The tall metal pole on wheels carried a volume-regulating machine and was necessary because of her ongoing low-grade fever and her need for antibiotics.
    So this is how my patients feel. It seemed odd, being on the other side of the hospital gowns and curtains.
    Her legs trembled with each step, as if she’d just run a marathon. She smelled like she’d run one, too, and dreamed about a soothing warm shower. For now, a birdbath would have to suffice. Oh, but the warm institution-white cotton washcloth felt spectacular on her face. She didn’t even mind the harsh laundry detergent smell.
    They said her labor had only lasted four hours—four of the longest, most grueling hours of her life. She glanced at the clock on the wall. Five o’clock. She must have passed out for a while afterwards. The last thing she remembered was waiting to hear her baby cry… But she hadn’t heard a sound.
    Now, holding the washcloth over her eyes, she could almost hear the sound of her baby being whisked away on the combination Infant Warmer-Crash Cart. Wanting to cry, she talked herself out of it. “You’ve got to be strong for Tara.”
    After cleaning up, all Jaynie could think about was going to see her baby, the child she’d named Tara Elizabeth Winchester. Elizabeth after her mother, and Tara after a special little girl in a picture provided by the sperm bank.
    The children in the photo couldn’t have been more than two years old, and must have been related. The girl’s wild and curly hair drew attention away from the stoic, straight-haired, cowlick-ridden boy by her side. The black and white Xeroxed copy had made it impossible to tell what color her hair was. Her shirt had a big heart next to her name—Tara. The boy’s name, the name of her sperm donor, had been removed for confidentiality. Perhaps the other name had been an oversight? From the looks of it, they were twins.
    “You gave us a scare,” the obstetric doctor said, appearing at her door.
    Jaynie snapped out of her thoughts and turned in the chair by the window. “Oh, Dr. Lindsay. Is everything okay?”
    “All is well. Your baby simply made her appearance on the planet too soon,” he said. “The neonatologist wants to fatten her up a bit. They’ll keep her on a ventilator for a while, then watch to see how she adjusts to breathing on her own.” He scrubbed his fatigued-looking face with a large hand—evidence of a long day. “I need to put you back in bed for a moment.” He walked closer. “Let me check your fundus. Are you feeling okay?”
    She lay down on the hospital bed so the doctor could press on her lower abdomen and her ever-tightening uterus. The nurses had been doing frequent checks, and had told her after the last time that she was the size of a grapefruit.
    “Progress,” he said. “You should be good to go home by tomorrow.”
    Tomorrow? The thought of leaving for home without Tara sucked the wind out of Jaynie’s lungs.
    Shortly after the doctor left, Kim showed up, wearing hip-hugging cropped pants and a bright, silky Mandarin collar top, and pushing a wheelchair. “It’s visiting hours. Let’s roll to look at Tara. Maybe if I pull a few strings they’ll let me in, too.”
    Down the hall, Kim and Jaynie found the rectangular, sterile NICU room silent and solemn when they entered. Fluorescent light gave the room a false midday look, when it was well past the dinner hour. Ten incubators lined the walls, but only six had occupants. Her baby lay in one, and she couldn’t wait to see her. A few parents congregated