REINER
It hadn't taken me long to decide that the NICU was the place I hated most in the world - and, at the same time, loved.
I could hear a doctor talking to me, but I couldn't turn around to face him: my eyes were glued to the painfully tiny little baby in the incubator in front of me, attached to so many wires and tubes I could hardly see her.
My daughter - the only patient of the entire ward.
It had been a while since I had given up holding back tears.
She was so small ... so small and so beautiful, despite everything.
“For now. She's strong, and that's a very good sign, but you need to know the chances of her making it ...”
“How could this happen?”
The doctor gasped. “P-pardon?”
I forced myself to take a breath. "How ... how could this happen? At six months? I've read up on
