After several reminders and a promise that we would keep the room calm, someone brought her another blanket and allowed her to curl into the recliner.
She arranged it herself, making sure she could still see the incubator.
At 11:06 p.m., our night nurse, Gloria, entered to check Rosalie’s chart.
Gloria moved with the careful confidence of someone who understood that parents in the NICU studied every expression before they heard a word.
She looked at the monitor, examined the tubing, and recorded the numbers.
Then she turned to us.
“Her numbers are a little better,” she whispered. “If this continues, the doctor may discuss weaning her in a few days.”
Hope rose so fast that it scared me.
I nodded because speaking felt dangerous.
Kevin placed his hand on my shoulder.
Brooklyn smiled at the incubator.
“Did you hear that, Rosie?”
Gloria’s expression softened.
Before she left, she paused at the door.
