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He wipes drips of sweat from his brow. “Wait,” he remembered, “you haven’t said anything about my other son. Is he okay?”
“Your second son is having a hard time breathing. He’s sick, but we can’t figure it out. He most likely will need breathing treatments and medicines his whole life. We have him in the NICU nursery, in a regular bassinet for now, but we’re keeping a close eye on him.”
The father didn’t like what he heard. Losing this baby would kill his wife.
The doctor escorts the worried father to the NICU nursery. “Let me make sure you can come in first. But for now, that is your little boy.” The doctor pointed to a small baby in a blue beanie cap.
The nurse and doctor spoke. The doctor nodded his head at the nurse, a frustrated expression on his face.
He walks from the nursery, and Carl’s heart falls. “The nurse will bring your son to the glass. They want to keep him monitored closely, but soon, you can hold your baby.”
The nurse picked up the little boy, and Carl watched him intently. What a small baby compared to his older and bigger brother.
William had his wife’s nose. He was tiny, not much bigger than five pounds, with such skinny legs.
The nurse stepped away from the window, and the ankle bracelet fell off of him. Carl knocked on the glass, pointing to it. She shook her head and picked it up, speaking with another nurse.
She came around the viewing window, opening up the door to speak with him. “I’m so sorry, Mr. James. When babies are rushed over here, in an emergency, they secure a quick bracelet on their ankle. Many preemie babies have a hard time with the ankle bracelet and they kick it off. But me and my other nurse are about to get him secured with both ankle and wrist bands. I’ll be sure to bring you a matching one you can wear.”
It made sense, after all, William was whisked out so quickly, and his little ankles were really no larger than one of Carl’s fingers.
Another man, with red hair, a bit shorter than Carl’s larger build, appeared at the open window, staring at a bassinet near Carl’s son. He turned to Carl. “Is your son in there?” the stranger asked.
“He’s in the bassinet next to your son. That’s William. What about your baby?”
The stranger took in a deep breath. “His blood sugar was low, and he was rushed over here. They assured us that he’ll be fine. But he’s being reunited with his mom tomorrow. He was born yesterday, and my Caitlyn hasn’t held him yet. She’s very distraught.” He explained. “He’s small, just barely five pounds, but he’s ours, and that will never change.”
Carl was jealous. Why couldn’t his son be healthy? There was the unknown with William. He wanted to continue speaking with the father. That way he didn’t have to worry about his son. “Does he have a name?”
“Not yet. My wife wants to name him Aaron, after me, but I don’t know. We’ll see.”
The gentleman Carl knew as just Aaron left with a good-bye. Carl stared at his son. How would he tell his wife, that one of their two babies they would ever have in this world, may not make it or could struggle with his health most likely his whole life? It would destroy Evelyn.
His stared didn’t leave his baby boy. He loved him so much but life was cruel. The nurse picked William up, and brought him to the glass again. He was precious, so perfect. She pointed to the ankle monitor, where she mouthed, “We’re changing it, now.” Speaking with the other nurse, she directed her attention to the baby with no name. The other nurse picked Aaron’s baby up, and his ankle bracelet fell off too. She moved close to the nurse with Carl’s own baby. They were typing information on the computer as the bracelets for both babies were printed out.
Alarms began to sound and William’s nurse left him, visibly saying something to the remaining nurse, but Carl didn’t hear them.
The baby with no name began to cry, and she picked him up from a few empty bassinets they kept near them, calming him down. At the small work station, she grabbed for his band, securing both onto his wrist and ankle.
She took the baby with no name back to the bassinet in front of the window, placing him in Williams’s bassinet, bringing the parental bracelet to him. He’s in the wrong bassinet, but they aren’t marked like typical nursery bassinets are with a tag placed in a slot above the baby.
She walked back over to William, reaching for the bands, securing them on his son’s wrist and ankle then bringing him back toward Carl and placing him in the other bassinet.
Carl was so confused. He’d kept his eyes on William the entire time. He pointed to the babies and mouthed, “Can I see him again?”
She smiled, and turned around to pick up the baby with no name. Both babies wore the same white, hospital-issued onesie. He read his bracelet first, with William’s name. Then he looked at the wrist band for the baby with no name. He read it out loud. The baby with no name’s bracelet read William Andrew James. The nurse, without intention, just switched the two babies.
The father stared at the accident with horror, with wonder, and with a decision to make. Should he say something? Or let his wife raise the baby who was healthy, because after all, if something happened to her baby, it would kill his wife. He couldn’t have that.
And now you know—it was me, Carl. I walked away as if I didn’t see a thing. And no one will ever know the whole truth. I didn’t know who my biological son was until almost twenty-eight years later, but I’ll never regret my decision.
I did it for love, never doubt that.
The End.
