Chapter 5 - Code Blue
The reunion ended in less than a second.
I ran toward the incubator.
Baby Miller's oxygen saturation was falling.
Eighty-four.
Seventy-eight.
Seventy-one.
“Call respiratory!”
Kayla froze.
“What’s happening?”
“Step back, please.”
Wade caught her before she could move closer.
The baby’s color changed.
My training took over.
Respiratory therapy arrived.
Then the neonatologist.
Orders flew across the room.
Kayla began shaking.
Wade held her shoulders.
“Look at me.”
“My baby—”
“Look at me, Kayla.”
She did.
“Let them work.”
“I left him.”
“Not now.”
“I left him!”
“You came back.”
The doctor worked beside me.
For several terrifying minutes, nothing outside that incubator mattered.
Then slowly the numbers began climbing.
Seventy-six.
Eighty-two.
Eighty-nine.
Ninety-three.
The room exhaled.
Dr. Patel looked toward Kayla.
“He’s stable.”
Kayla nearly collapsed.
Wade held her upright.
“What happened?” she asked.
“He had an apnea episode. Premature infants sometimes temporarily stop breathing. We’re adjusting his respiratory support and ordering additional tests.”
“Is he going to die?”
Dr. Patel did not give false promises.
“He is fragile, but right now he's responding.”
Kayla pressed both hands against her mouth.
Wade stared through the incubator wall.
I had seen that look before.
He was no longer seeing his grandson.
He was seeing Elizabeth.
The machines.
The alarms.
The night he had not come.
I touched his arm.
“Wade.”
He did not respond.
“Wade, he's stable.”
His breathing had become shallow.
“I need some air.”
He walked quickly from the unit.
Kayla watched him leave.
“Should I go after him?”
“No.”
I looked toward her son.
“You stay.”
That seemed to surprise her.
“I can?”
“You're his mother.”
Something changed in her face.
She stepped closer to the incubator.
“What should I do?”
“Talk to him.”
“He can't understand me.”
“He knows your voice.”
Kayla placed one trembling hand through the opening.
“Hi.”
She laughed nervously through her tears.
“I'm terrible at this.”
Baby Miller moved.
Kayla's fingers touched his hand.
His tiny fingers curled around one of hers.
She broke.
“I’m sorry.”
I stood nearby.
“I’m so sorry I left you.”
His fingers remained wrapped around hers.
“My name is Kayla. I guess you know that already.”
She smiled.
“And you're not Baby Boy Miller anymore.”
I looked at her.
“You chose a name?”
She nodded.
“My grandmother always said names should belong to people who teach you something.”
She looked toward the doorway where Wade had disappeared.
“His name is Samuel Wade Miller.”
When Wade returned twenty minutes later, Kayla told him.
He stared at her.
“You don't have to do that.”
“I know.”
“Kayla—”
“I want to.”
Wade looked at the baby.
Samuel Wade Miller.
His grandson.
The child he had unknowingly held before knowing either of them belonged to him.
For the first time, Wade cried openly.
But our relief lasted less than an hour.
A hospital social worker named Denise entered the unit carrying a folder.
She asked to speak with Kayla privately.
I saw Kayla's face change as Denise explained the situation.
Because Kayla had left the hospital before completing several required documents, Samuel's case had already been referred for an emergency child welfare assessment.
Kayla looked terrified.
“Are they taking him?”
“No decision has been made,” Denise said.
“I came back.”
“That matters.”
“I’m his mother.”
“That matters too.”
Wade stepped closer.
“What does she need?”
Denise looked at him.
“Stable housing. A safe discharge plan. Financial resources aren't everything, but the child will have extensive medical follow-up.”
“He'll have all of it.”
Kayla looked at Wade.
He continued.
“I own my house. Four bedrooms. No mortgage. I own Turner Custom Cycles and the building beside it. Kayla and Samuel can stay with me.”
Denise made notes.
“That could potentially be considered, but we need to verify your relationship.”
“DNA test me.”
Kayla blinked.
Wade did not.
“Today.”
Denise nodded.
“We can arrange that.”
Then she looked at Kayla.
“There is another issue.”
“What?”
“The biological father.”
Kayla's entire body stiffened.
Wade noticed.
“So there is one,” he said.
Kayla looked at the floor.
“Yes.”
“Where is he?”
“I don't know.”
Denise opened the folder.
“Apparently he knows where you are.”
Kayla looked up.
“How?”
Denise turned the paper around.
“A man filed an emergency petition this afternoon claiming he is Samuel's father.”
Kayla's face went white.
Wade read the name.
Then looked at her.
“Who is Travis Cole?”
May you like
Kayla whispered the answer.
“The reason I ran.”
