“Maybe there was a little blip of a heartbeat–or a twitch of an eye. I saw life left in her, John.” The shock of it all left her scrambling for words.

“Mary… she’s gone. I-I’m so sorry.” His voice stumbled too, resting his hand on his grieving wife’s cheek.

“You don’t understand, I could feel her–my skin on hers, we could feel each other’s presence.” He leaned in to embrace her, they clung together, letting their tears saturate each other’s shoulders.

It was only minutes ago when her baby was ripped from her arms with little explanation. The room had been filled with such panic that it was hard to say what exactly had happened. The baby had been rushed out of the room, nurses clamoring behind the doctor. Mary and John could hear them almost gossiping about the situation. One nurse claimed it to be a stillbirth, while another continuously repeated that everything was “just fine.” Regardless of who was telling the truth, the parents were not “just fine.” After nearly ten minutes of wailing and uncertainty, a small venerable man walked into the room.

“Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Anthony? I’m Dr. Kim. I wasn’t here for the delivery but I’m the head Neonatologist of this hospital–”

“Where is she? You need to let me see her, I know she’ll be okay, just please.” John laid a hand on her shoulder, ending her sentence gently. Mary’s sobs came out silently, her weak frame shuddering with each breath.

“She’s in the NICU. And as of this moment we’re not exactly sure of her condition. But please understand we’re doing everything we can.” He clutched his clipboard to his chest, almost defensively.

“That’s not enough, I need my little girl back. I know she’s alive.” Her voice broke, her sentences remained nearly incoherent.

“Well, what do you know about her? I think some clarity is the bare minimum right now.” John kept a steady tone, mostly to console his wife.

“Regardless, it’s a rare case. Her heartbeat seems to be fluctuating and her lungs aren’t functioning properly. The most likely diagnosis for her heartbeat and breathing would be severe arrhythmia. We aren’t able to detect brain activity as of right now, it’s possible she has anencephaly.” Dr. Kim’s expression remained blank, which only confused them more.

“W-what does that mean?”

“Anencephaly is a birth defect where the infant is born missing major parts of the brain. We’re not sure that this is the case, but I’m just stating it’s possible. It can occur due to a mishap in utero. She’s also quite premature which can make these types of … ‘impairments’ more likely.”

“But, she’s alive … right? You said her heart’s beating–we can deal with a brain disability, I just need to know she’s alive.” Mary raised her voice to him, trying to stand but failing. John gently urged her back into bed. Her body was exhausted. Were these nine months of physical pain and anticipation all for nothing? Neither of them could even begin to accept that possibility. They had loved this baby before she was even conceived; it was like they had already seen her grow up.

“As of right now she is medically alive, but her heartbeat is unstable. At this rate it isn’t likely she’ll make it through the night. Regardless of her unlikely recovery, if anencephaly is the case here, it is a fatal condition.”

Fatal.

Mary’s heart halted in her chest and the gray hospital walls began to fall out of focus. After years of trying and failing to grow their family, neither of them could accept the circumstances. Dr. Kim’s blunt and sorrowless attitude made John’s fists tighten.

“You keep saying ‘as of right now’, and ‘at this rate’, this is our daughter. We need to know now. Leave this room and do your job.” John’s voice boomed much stronger than Mary’s, echoing down the empty halls.

Dr. Kim said nothing, only turned to the door with a swift exit. John turned to Mary with gentle eyes. She gazed into them and although he said nothing, she could hear all of his comforting words. The long battle of infertility had never made things easy for them, but their love for each other never waivered. He sat beside the bed, their fingers intertwined. They sat in silence a while longer, feeling each other’s presence. Eventually, he broke the silence.

“Do you want to try to take a walk?” Her face lifted into a subtle smile, and he helped her onto her feet. He found a walker for her nearby. Her legs were shaking, she winced slightly, but all she wanted to do was get out of that room. They slowly made it down the hall, his hand resting on the small of her back to guide her. She soon couldn’t handle the distance, and sat at a bench by a wide window. They glanced through the glass, it was the nursery. John went to move her, so as to not upset her any further, but she stayed put. To his surprise, a warm smile crept onto her face. Her eyes welled with tears, but not the same ones that had been there before. These were different, softer.

“We have a baby like that, John. A sweet baby girl. We need to decide on a name. I know we were between a few–”

“Mary, what are you talking about?” Now his voice was breaking.

“I know she’s alive. We’ll be going home with her in the morning.” Her fingers grazed the glass, as her eyes absorbed each newborn face. John’s head fell into his hands, he couldn’t keep it together for her anymore.

“I-I’m sorry but I think you’re in denial. She’s not well, and … I don’t think we’ll be able to take her home.” She didn’t even look at him. Her gaze remained watching the babies and their soft pink faces.

“You don’t know that. You don’t understand–none of you do! I can feel her. I felt her in my arms, and I feel her now. Not just that she’s alive but I know her energy. I’m not crazy, John, It’s like our minds are connected. I know our daughter’s okay.” At this point she looked to him, firmly standing her ground. Her smile never left, he didn’t know what to think. This sudden optimism could’ve been anything: hormones, shock, grief, the drugs. She was in denial and he couldn’t feed into her fantasies, but he didn’t have the strength to argue with her. It would be a victorless fight. He hugged her tightly, doubting her, but wishing more than anything that she was right.

Back in the room, she sat unnervingly calm, gazing out the window. It was as if she was imagining her life raising her daughter. John however twitched and fidgeted, his eyes still wet. More time passed, the atmosphere hung heavily for him, yet Mary seemed unaffected. Suddenly, she turned to him, her hand meeting his.

“Don’t cry, John. She’s going to love you so much.” His face fell flat. As much as he wanted to smile at her, his logical mind refrained.

A moment passed and the door opened. Dr. Kim reentered, his face just as expressionless as their first encounter.

“Mr. and Mrs. Anthony, I don’t really know how else to say this.”

The couple sat frozen, hanging onto each word.

“There’s been nothing short of a miracle–your daughter’s going to live.”

John’s mouth was left agape, the couple sobbed simultaneously, reveling in bliss. They embraced each other once more, and the world seemed to fall away.

“After more in depth tests, we were able to eliminate the possibilities of anencephaly and arrhythmia. She simply had a blockage that was interrupting her breathing. Soon after we unblocked that pathway, her heart returned to its normal rhythm. During her EEG scan, we were able to detect proper brain activity. Her eyes opened and she even began to cry.”

The old man’s face finally revealed a smile.

Mary turned to John, “I knew I felt her, it’s like she never left me.”

“I’ve never been so happy to be wrong.”

A nurse arrived, carrying their swaddled daughter. She wailed inconsolably, her viridescent eyes glistening under the fluorescent lights. As soon as she felt Mary’s arms, her crying ceased. The pair seemed to absorb each other; it was truly as if they were never apart. After years of yearning, their family was complete. Neither of them would ever have to lie awake wondering what life with their miracle daughter could have been like; they finally get to live it.