Nathan
“Sir, your wife is critical. We have given her everything we can. It is not working. We have to deliver the baby and try stronger therapies.”
I look blankly at the doctor. The nurse was clear even when sounding hopeful that 28 weeks is too early to deliver a baby. 
“Mr Lord,” the doctor calls. He needs a go ahead from me, but how do I make this decision. 
“What…what happens if you don’t deliver the baby?” Paul asks. He was not here earlier when we spoke to the nurse. 
“We will sadly lose both.”
It sounds harsh but I appreciate the doctor’s honesty. No false hope, just the truth. 
“There is a chance if you deliver the baby?” Paul enquires. I can hear the hope in his voice, depressing me more. I can guess what his reaction will be when he discovers what Isaac and I already know. 
“It is not that simple. The therapy we want to try on Mrs Lord is the last resort. It has not been studied much, but it’s the only thing we have not tried. There are no guarantees with it,” the doctor explains. 
“And the baby will live?” Paul’s voice is softer, but still hopeful. 
The doctor lets out a sigh. “It is too early in the pregnancy. The baby’s lungs have not fully developed. There are, unfortunately, no guarantees with the baby either.”
“So, there is no hope with both options?”
There it is. Now Paul is right where we are. 
“There is always hope. Miracles happen all the time,” the doctor echoes the nurses words. 
I stare at the sealing, preventing my tears from falling. They would not be called miracles if they happened all the time. 
“Deliver the baby,” Isaac tells the doctor. He is more decisive than me and I appreciate that. 
“We need consent from the spouse,” the doctor says. I nod my head. This difficult decision has to come from me. 
“Deliver the baby. Give them both the best you got. They are my life.”
“Yes, Sir. Please sign these.”
“I want to be there during the operation,” I tell him as I put my signature on the consent documents. 
“Of course, Sir.”
A few minutes later, I sit in theatre next to my unconscious wife. 
“Babe, I am here. I am so sorry I failed to protect you,” I try to speak, a lump forming in my throat. I wipe off my tears and hold her hand. “You are the strongest, most loving person I know. Amari, you are my life. I am nothing without you. Babe, I need you to fight. I need you to come back to me.”
I have no words when the doctors begin operating. This could be the end of our baby. I am constantly praying in my head, but I can’t hold back my tears. Life is so fragile. I should have known this after my accident. I should have protected my wife and unborn child better. 
My heart leaps when baby cries fill the theatre. She is alive. I know that it is too early, she is not out of the woods, but she is alive. 
“Hear that, Amari. That’s our princess. She needs you,” I murmur before jumping on my feet to the small bed where the paediatrician and a nurse are with her. My eyes land on the tiny fragile being the doctor and a nurse are warming, weighing and checking up. She is so small. Her skin is so fragile and transparent. I can even see her tiny chest moving and heart impulse. Just watching them touch her makes me flinch. It’s like they will break those tiny hands and feet. With all that, our princess is perfect. 
They have quickly wrapped her up with a soft blanket when they give her to me. My hands shake as I hold her on my chest. “Welcome, Precious Pearl Lord. May the angels of the most high surround and cover you with grace.”
“We have to go now, Sir.”
I look at the paediatrician in disbelief. 
“She needs close monitoring. We can only do that in the neonatal unit. She also needs skin-to-skin contact with one of her parents,” the doctor explains. 
I look at Pearl and at my wife, who is still being operated on. 
“I can’t leave my wife.”
“She is in good hands, Sir. This period is critical for the baby,” the obstetrician operating on Amari tells me, but my heart can’t let me leave Amari like this. I will never forgive myself if something happens while I am not here. My subconscious tells me that I will not either if something happens to  the Pearl. 
“I understand that this is a difficult decision, Sir. The nurse in the unit will do the skin-to-skin with your daughter until you get there,” the paediatrician suggests, but I can’t have a stranger do that. 
“Give me a moment to call my brother. His name is Paul. He will do it.”
She nods. “Tell him to meet us in the neonatal unit.”
“You…you trust me with this?” Paul stammers when I tell him. I could not send Isaac, he is too destructed and his fiancee is also in the intensive care unit. 
“Of course. You are family, man.”
“But all this is my fault,” he says. I can hear Isaac object in the background. Paul still blames himself despite all of us telling him that this was not his fault. 
“Paul,” I call to him when he does not respond. I don’t have to see him to know that he is crying. Maybe he does not believe us. The earlier treatment by the agents did not help. Maybe this is what he needs to finally believe that no one blames him. 
“Stop with that nonsense and go warm up my princess. Let me know if you’re worried about anything.”
“Okay. Going now. Brian wants to talk to you.”
Brian was abroad for business and due to return next week. I am surprised but thrilled that he is here. There are things I need that only he can pull off. 
“I came as soon as I could. What can I do?”
“Thanks, Brian. I can’t be in two places at the same time. I need both my wife and daughter in the same place. If you can, all our friends too.”
“Consider it done.”
“Make Isaac help. He needs a distraction.”
“On it.”
With Brian here, I can focus all my energy on my wife. I take a seat next to her. It is unsettling seeing her like this. All sorts of tubes and drips are connected to her. I have to be careful even when touching her that I don’t touch or move anything. 
“Pearl Precious Lord is gorgeous like her mother. She is tiny and fragile, but she is a fighter like her mommy. I know that you would have wanted me to be her. You always sacrifice yourself, but I can’t, Amari. Paul is with her. She is…” I mutter before all sorts of alarms go off…