“He was just going,” Tessa interrupted, a little pettishly.
But Jakob had already begun unbuttoning his shirt, while the nurse carefully disentangled Ember from the various tubes and wires that covered her minute frame. Jakob reached out with both hands and received his daughter. She stirred, gave a tiny, distressed squall, and then settled comfortably against the thick hair on Jakob’s chest.
Tessa looked on, knowing she couldn’t argue. She had read all the research. Skin to skin contact with a parent, especially the mother, was crucial to a premature infant’s development and survival. Tessa had tried the same procedure, many times. But Em did not relax with her the way she did with Jakob. She would wriggle weakly, as though she would rather be within the sterile confines of her incubato
