“Pregnant woman having early labor!”
“Heavy bleeding!”
By the time the baby came out, daylight had already arrived.
Under the harsh white lights in the hall outside the operating room, I was pushed into the delivery room, then pushed back out again.
The doctor placed the newborn beside me, a tiny shape wrapped in a white blanket, her skin strangely red, her breath so light they were barely there.
Too tiny. So thin it hurt just seeing her.
The second I saw her, I knew right away she was far smaller than a full-term baby.
My chest tightened, and I lifted my hand, my fingertips shaking hard, yet still softly touched her cheek.
That tiny bit of warmth felt so real it almost made me break down.
“I’m sorry…”
My throat tightened, my voice rough and barely recognizable. “Everything is Mommy’s fault.”
If I hadn’t gone home alone, if I hadn’t been taken, she could have stayed inside me longer. She wouldn’t have been forced into this world so early, so sadly.
“It’s Mommy who failed to keep you safe.”
The doctor stood nearby, softly going over the situation, saying the baby needed an incubator, saying she was born early, but her signs were steady for the moment.