Against the Odds (6 page)

“
Are you all right?”
Robert asks. Bruce stops are looks at me.  

“
I'm all right.” I try to
assure them both. 

“
Leah, if this is too much
for you, say something,” Bruce insists.  

“
I’m fine.” I plaster on a
fake toothy smile and everyone laughs. 

“
Well, if it becomes too
much…” 

“
I will, Bruce, thank
you.” 

We walk into the hospital and are met by what
looks like hospital security.  

“
Robert and Leah
Grether?” 

“
Yes,” Bruce
replies. 

One of them asks, “And you
are?”  

“
Their attorney, Bruce
Myles.” 

“
Judge
Myles?” 

“
Yes.” 

“
Follow
us.” 

We follow behind them down the hallway before
we enter into a small conference room. I quickly look around the
room for a little girl. Three men dressed in suits are sitting at
the large oval table. They stand immediately when we enter. My
heart beat quickens and I can feel my blood rushing through my
veins in my neck. I hear my heart pulsating in my ears. I can’t
understand what is being said. I smile, shake their hands and nod
while I hold onto the chair for support. Robert wraps his arms
around me and pulls out the nearest chair for me to sit
on.  

“
Are you all right?”
Robert leans in and whispers into my ear.  

I nod. “I need some water.” I rest my hand on
my belly to calm the baby.  

“
Leah needs some water,
please.” 

I drink the water that someone hands to me
and it helps. 

A man in a gray suit stands up and says,
“We’re still waiting for the other family.”  

Robert sits on one side while Bruce takes the
seat on the other side of me. I drink some more water, hoping it’ll
calm my racing heart. I sit and listen while Bruce and Robert talk
to the men at the table. I don’t say anything, I can’t speak. I
holding onto the bottle of water and pick at the label. I’m afraid
they’ll ask me some questions and I won’t be able to
talk.  

The door opens and the
room goes quiet. Robert immediately holds my hand. I want to look,
but I can’t. My mouth goes dry and I lick my lips. The sound of
blood swooshing in my ears is the only thing I can hear. Robert
stands and urges me to do the same. I stand on wobbly legs and pray
they can support my weight. I haven’t looked towards the doorway.
I’m scared, frightened, and excited, all at once. My daughter is
here and that gives me instant courage.
My
daughter.
  

An older man walks in
first and is followed by a tall, dark-haired younger man. The
younger man is in protector mode. I have seen this stance and look
many times on Robert. His wife and daughter are behind him,
although I can’t see either of them. He stops and his wife stands
to his side. I recognize her from the bookstore. They look around
the room and I know they are looking for their daughter, our Jamie.
My stomach does another flip at the thought. Surely the hospital
would have informed them of Jamie’s death. She is holding a gift in
her hands. A little girl with hair, black as night, peers around
from behind the man. She is holding his hand with both of hers.
Robert squeezes my hand and I know he is looking at her, too. She
is the same little girl who was in the bookstore a few weeks ago. I
didn’t notice it then, but I see it now. She looks like Robert and
me. She has olive-color skin, deep-set dark eyes, and black hair.
She looks frightened as she looks around the room. Her eyes lock on
mine and she give me a slight smile and small wave.
She remembers me from the bookstore.
I smile slightly and wave back
cautiously.  

Robert leans into me and asks, “Do you know
her?” 

“
No, but they frequent the
shop,” I whisper. “One book they bought was
The Animal Family
by Randall Jarrell
with illustrations by Maurice Sendak. One of its themes is that you
don’t need to be biologically related to be family; you can make
your own family out of the people — and animals, and in the book, a
mermaid — around you.”  

“
You can remember the book
they bought?” 

“
It’s a gift
I have; I remember which books people buy or look
at,” I say, without taking my eyes off of the little
girl.  

Robert

I stare at the little girl and I am amazed
that she looks so much like me and Leah. Someone instructs all of
us to sit down at the table and we do.  

We are introduced to Drake and Chelsea
Sinclair and their daughter, Madison. Leah keeps one of her hands
placed on her belly and holds my hand with her other
one.  

“
We understood that both
girls would be present here today,” Drake
says.  

“
We sent you several
certified letters explaining and they were all returned,” an older
man says as he holds up several manila
envelopes.  

“
Explaining what?” Chelsea
asks. 

I watch as the guys at the table look at each
other. Leah speaks up softly and says, “I’m sorry, but there was an
accident….” 

“
Oh, God, no,” Chelsea
cries. 

I wrap my arms securely around Leah’s
shoulder and tuck her firmly to me. I’m anticipating harsh words
and anger coming from Drake. I can see a twitch in his jaw, a sure
sign that a man is upset. I watch as Drake tries to console his
wife, but it doesn’t work. The attorney for the Sinclairs says, “We
spoke about this meeting and not ONE person said ANYTHING about a
DECEASED CHILD!” 

Leah jumps at his raised tone, as do Chelsea
and Madison. Drake scoots closer to Madison and places his arm
securely over her chair. Chelsea wipes away her tears with a
monogrammed Kleenex she retrieved from her purse. I look at the
three men in suits as they search through some papers, which are
now scattered across the table.  

Finally, one of the men clears his throat and
says, “It looks like this was an oversight on our part. Please
accept our apologies.” 

“
AN OVERSIGHT! NOT TELLING
US THAT OUR DAUGHTER IS DEAD WAS AN OVERSIGHT!” Drake yells. He
slams his fist on the table and the table rattles. Leah jumps
again, as do Madison and Chelsea. His temper is pissing me off and
I hate to see my daughter sitting at his side — she jumps from
fear.  

I lean forward to say something to him when
Leah grabs my arm. I look back at her and she looks scared. “Are
you all right, Sweets?” She shakes her head no. “What is
it?” 

“
My water…,” she begins to
say and then stops. I hand her the bottle of water sitting on the
table and she doesn’t take it. I can hear some arguing going on at
the table, but my focus and attention is now on Leah. “My water
broke,” she whispers.  

I look over at Bruce and he says, “We are
already at a hospital, but do you need an ambulance to take her to
a different one?” 

“
I don’t want her to
deliver here,” I say.
This is where this
nightmare began. I don’t wish to worry about a baby swap happening
again.
  

Leah squeezes my hand until her knuckles turn
white. She still doesn’t say anything. “We may not have a choice,”
Bruce says. “Can we get a wheelchair brought in?” Bruce asks as he
stands up from his chair. “Leah’s in pre-term
labor.”  

The room quiets and I can hear movement.
“Leah, are you all right?” I ask, hoping she can answer
me.  

“
The contraction is over,”
she whispers. She lessens her hold on me and I continue to hold her
hand. “It’s too early for the baby to come,” she cries.
She stiffens as another contraction
begins.  

“
Don’t cry,
Leah.”  

Bruce bends down and says, “They are bringing
in a gurney for you. How are your contractions?”  

“
They hurt,” Leah says
through gritted teeth.  

I look around the room for the gurney, a
wheelchair, or something, and I don’t see anything. Leah squeezes
my hand and I know she is in pain. “Hold on, Leah.” It’s the only
thing I can think of to say. 

A soft voice says, “May I help?” I look over
and Chelsea is standing there. I move over and make room for her so
she can be closer to Leah.  

“
Hi, Leah,” she smiles and
takes Leah’s other hand in hers. “Close your eyes and take some
deep breaths.” 

I watch as Leah does what
is asked of her.
I should have remembered
that from when Jamie was born. I kick myself for not
remembering.
Leah seems to calm as she
continues to take deep cleansing breaths.  

“
Good, you are doing
great,” Chelsea says in a calming voice.
Although I just met her, she seems to be the total opposite
of her irate husband.
“How far along are
you?”  

“
She’s just at 27 weeks,”
I say. Chelsea nods. I hear the commotion and I know the medical
staff is here.
Thank,
God.
  

I kiss Leah and whisper to her that I love
her before I stand and make room for the gurney. I try to focus on
Leah, but the conversation going on at the table now has my full
attention.  

“
I would hope that if Leah
delivers in this hospital that the same mistakes won’t happen
again,” Bruce says sternly.  

Shit, I don’t think I could live through
another baby swap. I see a marker and some pens laying in the
middle of the table and I remember my plan to mark my baby with a
permanent marker. I want it to be nearly impossible to mix him or
her up with another baby. I lean forward and take the black
permanent marker from the table. I plan on explaining my actions
but then I realize no one is watching me.  

“
We have terminated the
person responsible for the baby mix up and have recently defined
our hiring process.” 

“
You mean to tell me this
MIX-UP wasn’t just a mistake, it was intentional?” Drake yells. I
swear he took the words right out of my mouth, although his tone is
a little harsher than I would use, at least I think
so.
 
 

Leah lets out a cry and I am reminded of what
is more important. I would love to stay and have this conversation
with them, but I have a wife and child who needs me. I hold Leah’s
hand as they place her on the gurney. I can see the blood and water
on the seat of the chair and on her clothing. 

“
Stay here and finish this
conversation while I go with Leah,” I whisper to Bruce, who seems
to be into a heated discussion.  

He nods as he continues
his conversation with them. I walk out beside the gurney as I hold
Leah’s hand. The only thing I hear before leaving the room is
someone saying, “A psychotic
nurse,”
before the door closes behind us. I hold tighter to the permanent
magic marker in my hands. 

Bruce Myles

I stay behind while Bobby tends to Leah. A
nurse suffering from a psychiatric episode is responsible for the
baby swap. This is all news to me and to my clients. “If Leah
delivers here, in this hospital, and this happens again, I will sue
this hospital and each of you, personally. Do you
understand?” 

“
Yes, we do. I assure you
this hospital had taken every safety measure possible to assure
that this never happens again,” Mr. Morrow says as he stands to
look me in my eyes. I am reminded that I am still standing. I sit
back down and notice the chair Leah was sitting in has been removed
from the table. “Should we reschedule this meeting?” he asks
me. 

“
No. We wish to
continue.” 

“
Very well. As I was
saying, once we learned of the two babies being switched at birth,
we interviewed all of the medical staff on duty. After we spoke
with Melissa Simms, who was the only R.N. and charge nurse on that
day, she broke down and started to cry. She admitted to hearing
voices that told her to switch the babies. After extensive
interviews and testing, none of her co-workers admitted to knowing
or suspecting that anything was wrong or different about her. Miss
Simms said she knew it was wrong, but the voices were persistent
and even threatened her if she didn’t switch the
girls.” 

“
And no one suspected that
she was behaving strangely?” I ask. 

“
No, no one,” Mr. Morrow
says. 

I look to each of the men sitting at the
table who are representing the hospital and ask, “Had she been
diagnosed with mental health issues prior to this?”  

“
No, she was never
diagnosed with anything until after this,” Mr. Blake
confirms. 

“
How many other infants
did she swap?” Drake asks a little too loudly. “Surely, someone
suffering from undiagnosed and untreated psychiatric issues for who
knows how long…” 

“
This is the only case
that we can find. We have done DNA on more children and parents
than I care to mention. This is the only case,” Mr. Crawford says
honestly.  

“
I hope so,” Chelsea says,
softly and sadly. “I hope that no other family has to go through
this.” I look over at her and she is twirling Madison’s hair around
her fingers. I never saw what Jamie looked like, but Madison looks
like Leah, except she has long hair. She also looks like
Bobby
.
“Is she
getting help?” Chelsea asks.