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She was too small.
Far too small.
It physically pains Fallon to see the fragile form in the incubator, kept from her by a plastic wall which was poised around her daughter to keep her warm. Her heart squeezes, causing her to wince as she takes notice that her skin looks almost translucent rather than the flushed pink it should be.
There also shouldn’t be tubes going down her tiny throat to help her to breathe air into not yet fully formed lungs. That was her job, or, it had been her job until…
It was so stupid.
The doctors had told her she should be resting more as she entered the third trimester of her pregnancy, but the streaming company was on the verge of a hostile takeover so she had to assert her ownership.
The men in the meeting had been surprised to see her knees buckle as she howled out in pain, the first contractions starting 2 and a half months before her due date.
She’d rushed to the hospital for assessment. The doctors had originally assumed it was Braxton Hicks. Until her waters broke.
Then all hell had broken loose.
The birth was a blur of panic and pain in her memories, except for the moment she first heard her cry. It had felt like a switch flicking internally, suddenly her every instinct went to protect the life she’d created and had just brought into the world.
Except, she couldn’t protect her. She wasn’t even provided with the opportunity to hold her daughter before she was whisked away to the Newborn Intensive Care Unit and kept from her.
Now, only a few days later, in the dead of the night, she was hovering over the incubator in the NICU, silently praying to any deity that might be able to grant miracles that she’d be okay.
Her eyes water, her vision blurring until she blinks and lets the hot tears fall to her cheeks as she thinks about the fact that her daughter shouldn’t be fighting for breath, she shouldn’t even be out in the world. The world wasn’t ready for her yet.
They were supposed to have more time.
She aches to touch her, to hold her in her arms where she belongs and Fallon realises in that moment that she would give her own breath if it meant she would be okay.
She lets the tears flow freely, keeping her hand on the walls of the warm incubator as she sobs out, “You can’t die. Please don’t die.”
Time doesn’t seem to exist. She could have been in there for minutes, hours, even days.
After the tears dried up she had just stood, staring at her daughter’s sleeping form, feeling numb. Her mind’s natural defence at compartmentalising her feelings and keeping her in a hypo-aroused state was in full swing.
Until the doors to the Newborn Intensive Care Unit swing open.
“Fal, there you are.” There it was, the voice which was capable of piercing through the veil. “You shouldn’t be in here, it’s late.”
“I paid off the nurses to let me in.” She hardly recognises her own voice, it’s so devoid of any intonation.
She hears him sigh, half-disapproving, half-unsurprised.
He approaches her slowly, pressing his body against her back, wrapping his arms around her and it brings with it that familiar comfort and warmth which right now she desperately needed. He places his chin on her shoulder, no doubt looking at his daughter, thinking the same thoughts as Fallon.
She wishes she could take the comfort he was offering, but in all honesty, she didn’t want him to be there.
That thought causes acid to rise in her throat because of course, she wants Liam to be here. She needs Liam to be here right now.
It’s just that she’s harbouring a dark truth, and his presence means she is going to admit it. She’s going to be forced to admit to herself, and to her husband, that she feels completely responsible for all of this.
They watch their daughter flex her doll-like fingers in her sleep like she’s reaching out for her parents and it’s all it takes for Fallon’s resolve to completely crumble.
“I’m so sorry, Liam.”
She feels, rather than sees his surprise as his muscles tense and he stands up straight, twisting to look her in the eyes.
“For what?”
She tries to keep it hidden and locked away tight, but all it takes is one look into Liam’s eyes, full of concern and hurt for it all to come bubbling up.
“I’ve already failed her.”
“What?” His voice is soft, his reaction genuine.
“I let myself get too carried away, stressed myself out with the god damn company and now she’s fighting for her life and it’s all my fault. Our daughter’s going to die because of me.”
He’s shaking his head, his eyes glistening, matching hers as he interrupts her, “Fallon.”
“-Don’t.” She shakes her head, suddenly lacking the courage to look him in the eyes. “I know what you’re going to say but I don’t deserve to hear it.”
“Stop.” He says it with so much purpose that it stuns her into submission, her eyes return to meet his hot gaze. “This is not your fault.”
The tears slowly return as his words settle and she mulls them over.
“So you’re not mad with me?”
“My god, baby.” He places his hands either side of her face to keep it in place and presses his forehead to hers, his eyes squeezed shut. She copies his body language, breathing in the same air as him. “Please tell me you didn’t think I was in any way, shape or form, mad with you.”
“Well I’m mad with myself right now, so it isn’t that much of a stretch.”
He sighs and pulls back to look at her, his hands going to rest on her shoulders.
“This guilt you’re feeling, you have to let it go.”
How can she?
Her mind, body and soul were riddled with it and she has no idea how to let it go. It feels like it’s already in every nook and cranny of her mind that she was the one who caused this.
“But if it isn’t my fault then it’s just, what? Chance? Bad luck?” Her voice becomes increasingly distressed as the words tumble from her lips, “That isn’t fair, why? Why us?”
“I don’t know, sweetheart. It feels like it’s always us who is thrown every challenge.”
“It shouldn’t be this time. This is her life we’re talking about…”
“-I know.” He replies to her before wrapping his arms around her form, pulling her in for a hug. Her arms instinctively go around him and she’s grateful that he holds her so close because right now she isn’t sure she can stand without his support.
“But Fal, she’s going to be fine.”
She mumbles into his shoulder, “How can you be so sure? She’s so small Liam and there’s nothing I can do to help.”
“You want to know how I’m so sure? Because you’re her mother, and you are the strongest person I know. Your blood runs through her veins, she’s a fighter, Fallon. Like you.”
She turns her head so that she can look down at the sleeping form, her heart lurching again at the sight of the tiny life they had brought into this world. She was incredibly fragile, but perfect nonetheless and she deserved to have a future. Fallon knew they could give her a happy one if she just keeps on fighting.
“I really hope you’re right.”