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To say Billie was nervous was an understatement.

Part of her felt like Jellybean would resent her for not being there in her first week of life. The other part of her felt like she didn't deserve her child. That her lack of attention and selfishness was already indicate of being a bad mother. She wanted to believe it wasn't true, but truth was, she was having a hard time accepting anything else as fact.

After contacting the nurse that they wanted to visit their baby, she had escorted them to the NICU on another floor of the hospital. They had been buzzed in and after washing their hands and being instructed to tie on a blue gown above their clothes, they were guided down hallways towards rooms where the babies were being kept.

As they walked down the hallway, they passed by a particular pod with blaring alarms and bright lights and nurses bustling about. There was a man standing next to one of the incubators, his hand gently stroking the back of a baby inside it. Billie found herself turning her head, looking into the window of the room despite all instincts in her body telling her not to.

There was six babies in that particular pod, curled up into themselves, many of them naked, bodies red and skin almost translucent and splotchy, as if they were only made of muscle. The baby boy the man was looking at, was curled into a fetal position, his naked backside raised to the air as a nurse drew blood from his foot. He was absoultey tiny, probably no bigger than Billie's hand, his skin so wrinkled on his body it almost seemed to be hanging off. He looked so frail and feeble. So incomplete, reliant on the machine to sustain his life which he was so desperately fighting to keep.

Billie looked away, swallowing tightly when she felt tears sting the back of her eyes, her heart pounding in her chest in sudden fright. She was glad she had Brandon to do this with her because she wasn't sure she would have been able to on her own.

The nurse guided them towards another wing that Billie noticed had babies in rooms by themselves.

"Jellybean is by herself?" she asked.

'Private rooms in general are better for the development of your preemie." the nurse explained, "Normally, we group the babies in pods together based on levels of medical attentions required. But your daughter's grandmother requested a private room for her in your place since only family is allowed to make decisions regarding her care if both the parents are not available."

"Brooklyn?"

"Yes, I believe that's what her name was. Oh, and don't worry. Your baby is always being monitored by nurses or the doctor. She's not alone." She stopped in front of a door with a small smile. "And here we are. Nurse Layla Johnson has been taking care of Nova, so any questions you have regarding your baby, she'll know since she's her primary nurse. Do you need anything else?"

"I think we'll be fine." Brandon replied. "Thank you."

She opened the door to let them in, and Billie hesitantly walked inside before leaning her crutches against the wall.

This room was more spacious, though it still had the incubator and giant monitor attached to it. There was a couch on one side of the room, and it smelled of lavender and something else soothing, even though the lights were also a bit bright.

They approached Jellybean's incubator, Billie's pulse racing uncontrollably.

If Billie thought walking into her mother's hospital room and seeing her connected to all those wires and tubes with the monitors beeping next to her bed tracking her progress had been hard, it was just as terrible seeing Jellybean in the incubator of the NICU.

She was small, just lying in her box not moving except for the fluttering of her eyelashes. There was so much attached to her body it was almost engulfing her completely. An assortment of tangled wires and tubes and IVs all keeping her alive. Attached to her foot. Attached to one of her hands. Two attached to her chest. A mask nearly covering up her whole face.

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