I looked toward the door one more time, like maybe someone would come running back, horrified and apologizing.
No one came.
So, I did the only thing I could. I sat down right there on the bathroom floor, opened my nursing bra with one hand, and fed her.
The change was immediate. Rose’s body softened, and her fists unclenched. Her cries broke into little sighs, and I felt warmth returning to her, one swallow at a time.
No one came.
“That’s it,” I whispered. “There you go. You’re okay now.”
Owen gave an offended squawk from the carrier.
“I know,” I told him. “You’re still my favorite dramatic man.”
***
When the paramedics rushed in, with airport security behind them, I was still on the floor with one baby in my arms and the other slumped sleepy against my shoulder.
A female medic crouched in front of me.
“You found her?”
“On the floor,” I said. “No bag. No note. Just… there.”
“You’re okay now.”
She checked Rose quickly, then nodded. “She’s okay. Just cold and hungry. She’s warm and fed now. You did the right thing.”
Another medic took Rose gently. She fussed once, then settled again.
“We need your information,” the woman said. “Name, phone number, and address. The detectives may need a statement.”
“Paige.”
She waited while I repeated my number because I got it wrong the first time. Then I gave her my address, too.
Leave a Comment