Say Something [Sequel to Dance On Austin Mahone Fan Fiction]

Chapter Nineteen

The NICU is nothing like I expected it to be, granted I never thought I'd have to come see my own son in this room. There are parents beside the other nine babies. Some are crying, while some are smiling down on their newborns. Most couples are clining to each other, as if they're all each other has left now.

Graham is asleep in his crib. There is a nurse standing over him, writing on a clipboard. I push Calli's wheelchair up close to him. The nurse glances up and smiles at us.

"You must be this sweet boy's parents." She says, sweetly.

I nod my head. "Austin, and this is my wife, Calli.'

"Diane." She says. "I've been watching him the past few hours, and I'll be taking care of him until Maria says he's ready to go home."

'How long do you think that will be?" Calli asks, refusing to take her eyes of Graham.

"We won't know until tomorow, really; the first twnety four hours in a premature baby's life are the most crucial. But, we are doing well so far."

"How many times has he stopped breathing?" I ask. "Doctor Maria mentioned that happened."

"Only twice." Diane answers. "They were both three hours apart, which is a very goos sign. If they were closer intervals, then we would need to start worrying more."

"How do you wake him up?" Calli asks.

Diane sticks her hand through an opening in the crib, and drags her fingernails, gently, across the bottom of his foot. He kicks at her hand and squirms around, before settling back to his first position. Doctor Maria was right; his apperance is not the most appealing; he looks sick. It breaks my heart that I can't help do anything to fix him, and I can see the same expression written all over Calli's face.

"All we do is tickle his foot." Diane says, smiling. "I know that sounds odd, but it stimulates the nerve endings in his feet up to the brain and heart."

Calli chuckles softly. "Has he opened his eyes at all?"

She shakes her head. "Not yet, but that doesn't men anything bad; he's just not strong enough to open them yet."

Calli glances nervously at Graham. "When can I hold him again?"

"I'm not sure, honey." Diane sighs. "Not until we can take the feeding tubes out of him. It could be days or even weeks."

"I hate this." Calli says, softly. "Not knowing if he'll even make it through the night, not getting to hold him in my arms.

"I know, Calli." Diane says. "This isn't going to be easy, and I won't sugarcoat anything for you two. If you want the truth about his health, that's what I'm going to give you."

Calli glances up at me, and I nod my head in reassurance to her.

"How bad is it, honestly?"

Diane sighs. "He is a fighter; most babies born at his weight don't make it to twelve hours old. It's been thirteen hours, so he's doing better than about eighty percent of premie babies."

"But?" I ask.

"But there are still a lot of slim chances. We're monitoring his heartrate, which is slower than it should be." She answers. "We are doing everything we can for him right now. All we can really hope for is he stays strong throughout the night." 

"Does it look like we'll get to take him home for Thanksgiving?" Calli asks.

"That's less than a week away, baby." Diane says. "He would have to gain at least four pounds and quicken his heartrate by then. Plus, all of his results would have to come back negative."