TRIGGER WARING: SENSITIVE TOPICS SOME MAY FIND DISTRESSING
Sam
"How's wor lil' man doing, doc?" I smiled softly.
The grimace on the doctor's face made my stomach flip and immediately my mind jumped to the worst. "Should we go somewhere quieter?" he asked gently.
"S-sure," I gulped, following my son's doctor into one of the offices.
It was sad but part of me was glad Rory was still mostly confined to a hospital bed to monitor her recovery. I knew she would be hysterical at that moment. I was on the inside but I was forcing myself to keep calm until I knew the whole story. Not that I believed it would be any better than I imagined.
"Oliver isn't doing well," he sighed. My heart dropped. "He's been showing signs of distress for the last few hours and we think it's sepsis. We've taken bloods to test but we can't know for sure until we get the results back."
"T-that's bad," I stammered.
"We're treating him the best we can with antibiotics but his immune system is so underdeveloped," he explained sadly.
Tears were starting to form in my eyes at the thought. Why did the universe hate me so much? And why take it out on my little boy and not me?
"What's the verdict?" I croaked, unsure of whether I wanted to know the answer.
"I hate to be the bearer of bad news but it's likely Oliver won't recover," he told me sympathetically. It felt like the air had been knocked from my lungs.
"Isn't there anything yous can do?" I asked frantically.
"I'm sorry," he apologised. "The only thing we can do now is hope the antibiotics clear the infection but even then, his organs are shutting down. It will be a miracle if he makes it through the night."
A strangled sob escaped my lips as the tears gathered in my eyes. Oliver hadn't been in the world for more than a few days and his time had been traumatic, to say the least. How was I supposed to tell Rory our son was going to die? She was going to be absolutely devastated. I was absolutely devastated.
"I'm sorry," I choked, "I just need a minute."
"Of course, take all the time yer need," he smiled sadly, leaving me to my own thoughts.
I didn't know what to do with myself and as I sat with my head in my hands, tears streaming violently down my cheeks, I couldn't bring myself to go to Rory. I knew I had to. These next few hours could possibly be our last with Oliver. I couldn't be selfish and take them from her because I didn't want to be the bearer of bad news.
So with reluctance, I wiped my damp cheeks and made the all-too-familiar trek to Rory's hospital room with a sinking feeling in my stomach.
"Hiya, darlin'," I smiled weakly as I entered the room.
"You've been crying," my girlfriend acknowledged nervously. "What's happened? Is it Oli? Is he okay?"
"Rory," I sighed, taking her hand in mine as I took a seat on the edge of the hospital.
"Oh, god," she cried.
"It's not looking good," I told her, the tears resuming their path down my cheeks. My chest hurt as I watched Rory break down in a fit of sobs but I continued anyway. "They think he's got sepsis, he's on antibiotics but the doctor says his immune system is so underdeveloped that even if they work, it's likely he won't recover."
"Please, no," she begged as she shook her head furiously, not wanting to believe my words.
"I'm sorry, darlin'," I choked. "C'mere."
She easily fell into my open arms, holding onto me for dear life as she sobbed into the crook of my neck. I could feel her hot tears on my skin, sinking into my cotton t-shirt. I quickly buried my face in her hair, whispering comforts to her but there wasn't anything anyone could say to either one of us that could console us right now.
"I want to see him," she sobbed.
"Of course," I whispered.
We had been travelling back and forth to the NICU so much that the nurse had just left the wheelchair with us. We had the technique of getting Rory into it down now and so she was in it in record time.
The journey to the NICU was narrated by silence and layered with a thick tension, neither of us knowing what to say to the other. I knew today was going to be the hardest I had ever experienced in my life, same for Rory but the thought of dealing with the fallout of losing our little boy was killing me internally. It was morbid but all I could think about was having to tell our friends and family that our baby was dead. The gut punch of arranging his funeral. Having to pretend like everything was normal to the public. That we hadn't just lost a child.
"Sam," Rory choked as we entered the NICU, bringing a hand to her mouth to muffle her sobs.
We were met with a sight from our worst nightmare. Standing around Oliver's incubator was a team of doctors and nurses, moving frantically and yelling out medical jargon I couldn't begin to understand.
"I don't think it's a good idea for yous to see this," one of the more familiar nurses told us softly as she blocked our view purposefully.
"My baby," Rory sobbed.
"He's not breathing," a nurse attending to Oliver noted. "Starting resuscitation."
"Sam," she whimpered as I rolled her away, not wanting her to see the scene going on. "We can't leave him. Sam!"
"Darlin', yer don't wanna see that," I told her softly, letting the tears fall as soon as I was clear of the NICU.
"I need to know he's alreet!" she snapped as she tried to stand from the wheelchair but I was quick to push her back down.
"Rory, ceemon, love. You're gan hurt yourself," I sighed.
"I don't care," she cried hysterically.
"It really is best if yous stay here until they're done," the nurse explained sympathetically. "I know it's hard-"
"Do yer?" Rory snarled. "Cause unless ya've been in wor situation, I don't think yer know."
"I'm sorry," I whispered apologetically but the nurse wore an understanding grimace.
"It's nowt I ain't had a thousand times before," she told me sadly. "It's understandable."
"Is he gan be alreet?" I asked, fearful for my son's well-being.
"I'll be honest, he's only just about holding on," she admitted.
"Why is life so unfair?" Rory cried in agony.
"I know, darlin', I know," I sniffed, taking her hand into mine and holding onto it for dear life.
I could feel the atmosphere dip impossibly more as Oliver's main doctor approached us with a sympathetic grimace on his face.
"No," Rory choked, shaking her head furiously as the tears kept flowing. "No!"
"I'm sorry," he apologised. "We tried everything we could but he just wasn't strong enough."
"No," she sobbed, burying her face in her hands.
The air had been knocked from my lungs and it felt like my entire world had imploded. It was like my heart had been ripped from my chest and set alight. I thought we would at least be allowed to say our goodbyes but the universe decided to throw a spanner in that plan. It was cruel and all I felt was pain.
Would things ever be the same again? It sure as hell didn't feel like it would.