There you are in your father’s arms. He is practically running to keep up with the triage nurse. The nurse is walking quickly toward the room that we leave open for true emergencies and the sickest patients. Your father’s eyes are full of fear, and the nurse’s tone is worrisome.
I look down at you all snuggled up to your father’s chest. You are beautiful. So small and bright-eyed. You don’t recognize how hard your body is working, and you are just taking in all the sights and sounds around you as any baby would. The nurse takes you from your father’s arms, and she places you on the stretcher. I lean in and place my stethoscope on your chest. I’m sorry if it’s a bit cold. I lean in closer.
“Hey cutie, how are you?” I say, and I smile.
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