The Quiet Times

It's quiet tonight. Lights are turned down low. Babies are all asleep. So is Rory, resting confidently in her fathers arms. His back is to the large, sliding glass door that represents all she knows about the outside world. Occasionally he hears a short-lived whimper down the hall, or the faint, but constant cluck of a monitor needing to be hushed. Nurses shuffle about behind him. His focus turns to her breathing...baby breathing. The sound brings peace as he feels the rhythmic rise and fall of her chest. Her toes flinch and curl in unison. The child has been in the NICU for 5 full weeks, with no firm answers in sight.

His mind wanders and he dares to consider the situation. He thinks about the present. He worries about her future. He wonders whether she will leave this building unscathed. He doubts that he will.