Rose had been in surgery for four hours.
It has been four hours of waiting, sitting, and praying.
The surgical waiting room felt cold and impersonal. There were hard plastic chairs, fluorescent lights, and a clock ticking on the wall.
Katherine was still in her hospital gown. She should be in bed recovering from her own surgery, but she wouldn't leave and wouldn't rest until Rose was safe.
I was beside her, holding her hand for support; this was our first real physical contact in months.
"She's going to make it," I said, trying to convince myself as much as her.
"You don't know that."
"I have to believe it. The alternative is-" I couldn't finish the sentence.
Because the alternative was unthinkable. Losing Rose. Losing our daughter before we really got to know her.
Bella arrived first to visit, rushing through the waiting room doors.
She was crying as she stepped in. "I came as soon as I heard. How is she?"
"In surgery - NEC. They're removing the damaged intestine."
