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"What's wrong baby girl? I wish you would tell Daddy what is wrong." Ben whispered rocking his fussing daughter.

"Mariah just take the bottle." He tried, as he put it into her mouth again, but she just cried harder.

Maybe it was the milk. They switched her over to formula two weeks ago and he thought she was doing fine with it until now. Now she wouldn't even swallow it. In fact, it was getting all over her neck in the process.

Going into the kitchen, he pulled out a packet of Miranda's breastmilk from the freezer.

"Daddy is trying to move as fast as he can pumpkin." He responded to her cries as he heated it up. Transferring the now warm milk to a bottle he shook it up before giving it to her.
Ben sighed in relief when she began to drink the bottle.

"Ok, so Mommy's milk is better." He noted. It wasn't that many packages left so they would need to find another brand of formula that would work for her.

Ben walked around the room with her trying to get the one-year-old to fall asleep. It was way past her bedtime. Everyone else had been sleeping for hours. Feeling Mariah's warmth in his arms, Ben grew concerned. Was she coming down with a cold? He gently took off her sleeper and dressed her in a comfortable onesie. As he cradled her closer to his body, he noticed her forehead radiating heat. Worried about her discomfort, he decided to give her a small dose of Tylenol.

"Let's get you feeling better, sweetheart," he whispered. Going into the kitchen, he looked in the cabinet and grabbed it. He gave her a little bit and watched as her face scrunched at the taste. It was bubblegum flavored. But she still didn't like it. He was surprised she didn't spit it out. He quickly came right behind it with her bottle again and she continued to drink.

After about 15 minutes, Mariah's cries began to subside, and her tiny eyes fluttered closed. Ben continued to rock her, the soothing motion combined with the Tylenol was working its magic. Soon enough, Mariah nestled into his arms, finding solace in the comforting rhythm. Ben sighed with relief as her breathing steadied, and she was peacefully sleeping. He carried her upstairs and put her in her crib.

Ben sat in the rocking chair close by for the first 30 minutes just in case she woke up. When he felt confident that she was down for the night he grabbed the baby monitor and cracked the door to her room. Sighing heavily Ben walked to the garage and opened the door. He needed to get in a good workout.

Ten minutes into his run on the treadmill, Ben's heart raced at Mariah's loud whimpering through the baby monitor. His heart ached at the sound and he rushed upstairs to check on her.

"What's the matter, baby girl?" Ben questioned, his voice cracking as he rubbed her tiny head. Expecting her to stir and open her eyes, he was met with a haunting silence. Frowning Ben frantically attempted to wake Mariah. He gently shook her and called her name repeatedly, but she just laid there and remained unresponsive. His hands trembled as he checked her pulse, it was there, but faint.

Ben felt his body go cold. He had absolutely no idea what to do. Everything he has read so far didn't prepare him for something like this. His eyes watered and he felt the tears falling down his face. She wouldn't wake up and her little body was soaked in sweat.

Ben fumbled for his phone and dialed 911 quickly. He explained the situation desperately and awaited guidance while they sent an ambulance. The 911 operator advised him not to move her, to make sure she was on her back, and to elevate her legs slightly using a pillow.

He wanted to call Miranda, but he only had his phone and 911 asked him not to hang up. When the paramedics arrived, Ben ran to the door to let them in. He showed them to her nursery and watched as they began to work. Finally hanging up with 911 he dialed Miranda's number and of course, it went to voice mail. He quickly called right back, but she didn't answer again. He left a message and texted her phone.

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