“One boy and one girl. Both are alive.”
My knees weakened again.
The surgeon continued, “They’re extremely premature, but their heart rates are stable. The neonatal team is taking them to intensive care.”
Ben covered his mouth.
“What about Rosie?”
“She lost a great deal of blood. We controlled the bleeding, but she suffered a period of reduced oxygen and went into cardiac arrest for forty-three seconds.”
The relief vanished.
“Is she awake?” I asked.
“No.”
“Will she wake up?”
“We don’t know yet.”
Ben shut his eyes.
The doctor spoke gently. “The next twenty-four hours will tell us more.”
“Can I see her?” he asked.
“Soon.”
“What about the babies?”
“A nurse will take you to the NICU.”
He nodded, but his body did not move.
The doctor touched his arm before leaving.
For a moment, Ben and I stood together in silence.
Rosie was alive.
The twins were alive.
That should have been enough to fill every part of me.
