Page 14 of The Night Nanny

“Mission accomplished.”

A blanket of warmth falls over me. I feel so blessed to have Nurse Marley in my life.

Things are only going to get better.

For Ned and me.

For me and my baby.

For all of us.

SIX

AVA

Trailing Nurse Marley, who’s still holding Isa, I’m halfway down the hall to our bedroom when a realization hits me.

“Nurse Marley!” I call out, trying hard to keep up with her. “We left Isa’s bassinet in the living room.”

She slows slightly. “No worries. Isa is going to sleep in her crib tonight. I assume she has a nursery?”

“Y-yes,” I stutter. “It’s the room across from our bedroom.” An unsettling feeling falls over me. This will be the first night my baby’s going to sleep apart from me.

Is she ready?

Am I ready?

Moments later, we’re in Isa’s shoebox-size nursery. It was originally meant to be another walk-in closet to store the cold-weather garments Ned uses for winter business trips to the East Coast and Europe as well as for ski trips.

As small as it is, it’s functional and charming. The only room in this house I decorated. Even as a child, I’d always fantasized what I wanted a nursery to look like for my little girl if I ever had one. Just like the one in my Barbie Dreamhouse. Once I found out, to my delight, I was having a girl, I ordered most of the furnishings online. Mostly pink and white, it’s like out of a fairy tale. A frilly canopy crib, a cottage-white armoire with hand-painted roses, a rocker with pink-and-white gingham cushions that match the wallpaper along with a changing table and diaper disposal. Best of all is the corner bookshelf filled with children’s books that Ned’s business partner and best friend, Gabriel Lucas, gifted us.

Sweet Gabe.

Nurse Marley’s amethyst eyes survey the windowless room. “This is lovely, Ava. Perfect.”

“But she’s used to sleeping in her bassinet in our room.”

She laughs. “Hon, it would be extremely awkward for me to invade the bedroom you and your husband share in the middle of the night. Besides, the sooner babies get used to their cribs, the better they sleep.”

I watch as she carefully lowers my tiny sleeping beauty into her bed and covers her with the lightweight pink cashmere blanket that’s folded at the base, tossing aside the sweet teddy bear perched by the headboard. “Remember, Ava, infants should only sleep on their backs. Otherwise, they run the risk of SIDS. Sudden infant death syndrome.”

I nod. “My obstetrician drilled that into me.” The thought of losing Isa sends a chill down my spine. I shimmy it away and stare at my baby.

She looks so tiny and frail in her new bed. I worry how I will get through the night not having her next to me. Given that she slept nine months in my womb, she’s like a part of me. I yearn to kiss my baby, but there’s no way I can bend over the raised crib railings with my cesarean incision. Things are bad enough. I can’t afford to rip open the sutures.

“Where are you going to sleep?” I instead ask our new night nanny, not having given this much thought.

“In the rocking chair.”

“Are you sure? I could set you up in the guest room until my mother arrives at the end of the week.”

“No, it’s fine. I’m used to them. Plus, it’s unlikely I’ll doze off.”

“You’re going to stay up all night?”

“Don’t worry. I’m a night owl. And I have my iPad with me to keep me busy.” She stops to smile. “I’m writing a movie.”

“Wow!” My brows shoot up. “What’s it about?”