A Series Of Letters {Adopted by Palaye Royale}

Chapter Forty-One

***DEFINITIONS: 

NICU: Newborn, or Neonatal, Intensive Care Unit, an intensive care unit designed for premature and ill newborn babies.***

It's me, Remington, and Jeremy in the room overnight on night one. Elijah is in his bassinet in the corner of the room. The hospital provided it. It's white with a lace trim and a curved top; but I'd much rather perfer his crib at home. I also hate how far he is from me. Like I know at home he'll be even farther from me, but right now I wanna make sure he's okay and just...y'know that's my fucking kid. 

"Remington," I speak into the night. "Help." He stands, carefully moving around a sleeping Jeremy before grabbing me and my IV pole and hoisting me up, guiding me over to Eli. I'm shaky on my feet still, and his arm is tightly around my waist. I don't trust my own legs to carry me, so I'm grateful for his reassuring grip. It keeps me steady on my own wobbly legs. 

Eli is sleeping soundly, his little balled fist raised near his head and his mouth open carefully. Drool pours out, but he looks so adorable. Tears start to fall down my cheeks. Then, quiet, little sobs. Remington pulls me into my side and rubs his hand up and down my side. I rest my head on his shoulder.

"You did it," He whispers, holding back tears of his own. "You did it, baby."

Elijah stirs in his bassinet, and I brace myself for the wail that never comes. Instead, he makes gurgled sounds of what could be pain, and it's just then I notice his chest. 

"Jeremy!" I scream. "Jeremy he can't breathe! Get a doctor! Now!" He hops up from his previous spot and runs without questions. Eli's chest splutters and he struggles to breathe. I flinch toward him when a doctor is here and he's gone in the time it takes me to blink.

I throw myself Remington, sobbing against him. I can't breathe. My baby? He could be dying. 

"Relax," Remington says, holding me close. "There's no guarantee he's gone."

But in my heart...I know.

########

Eli has been in the NICU for five days. I haven't been able to hold him until right now. Today, he's going home. 

His lungs were underdeveloped. He struggled to breathe on his own. But now, with the help of some extremely talented medical people, Elijah's lungs are working better than anybody would have expected.

Dr. Suaréz, Elijah's main NICU doctor, brings him back into my room in his bassinet. His feeding tube and oxygen line are gone, and I nearly cry at the sight of him. I instantly take him up into my arms, reveling in the feeling of his warmth against my chest. He gurgles once, and I kiss the top of his head. 

"M-My baby," I say to Remington, voice cracking. He nods, looking at me.

"Your breathing baby."

***A/N: I'M SORRY IT'S SO SHORT AND BORING AND LATE I'VE BEEN WORKING ON MY NEW REMINGTON BOOK CALLED "Losing The Fight"***