February 24, 2027
Taylor could feel herself on the verge of tears as she paced around their bedroom, her six-week old baby in her arms, struggling to breathe.
They'd all been sick the last week or so - a post-Super Bowl weekend cold that had started with Mia and travelled through all of them. Annie had seemed to miss it initially, but in the last day had gone downhill, struggling to eat through a snotty nose and her breathing becoming more rattly and uneven.
Taylor had been busy all day, between caring for her and caring for Travis, who was only a week post ACL surgery and still on crutches. He was in a lot of pain, still taking a lot of medication, but she knew it killed him not to be able to help fully, especially when the girls were sick.
Now, as she watches Annie's tiny body fighting for breath, she shakes Travis out of his sleep, panic overtaking. 'Trav, she can't breathe. What am I meant to do?'
The tears fall, as fast as they can, and Travis sits bolt upright, pulling them both down onto his lap. 'We have to go to hospital, Tay. She's so little, she can't fight it by herself'.
'Oh god. What if something happens to her Travis, I can't let anything happen to her', she sobs into his chest, his arms tightly squeezing her. She stays there while he makes the necessary arrangements, and soon she's packing a bag for the hospital having spoken with Annie's doctor, a crib ready and waiting for her.
The sun is only rising but she dials Brittany's number, knowing she would pick up. 'Britt, we have to take Annie to hospital. Can we leave Mia with you?', is her opening line, not in the mood for hellos.
'Oh my gosh Tay, of course. Come right over'. She pulls Mia out of her bed, still sleeping, and they're at the Mahomes' not fifteen minutes later, bidding her goodbye.
When they make it to the hospital, the Doctor is there to greet them at the private entrance, and she takes one look at Annie before declaring, 'You did the right thing to come in'.
Travis grasps Taylor's hand tightly as they sit together and watch as their newborn is examined by the doctors, an IV placed in her tiny arm and oxygen prongs in her nose. Her cries seem deafening to Taylor, who can't watch as the baby squirms in discomfort. Travis, barely holding the tears back himself, pulls her close under his arm, shielding her eyes from watching the doctors at work.
'Taylor, Travis. Annabelle has contracted RSV. Because she is so small, she's having trouble fighting off the virus, which has made it difficult for her to breathe. We've started a round of IV antibiotics and put her on oxygen, which should start to help her in the next hour or so. Has she been able to eat anything or keep anything down recently?'
'She was, until yesterday, but I haven't been able to feed her since yesterday morning, she just refused', Taylor responds, her voice shaky.
'That's pretty normal, as it requires breathing control to suck. We can get her on a feeding tube. Can you pump or give us any milk you have in storage?'
Taylor nods, immediately moving to the diaper bag, while Travis asks, 'How serious is it, Doc? I mean, for such a small baby'.
She gives him a sympathetic smile, tapping his shoulder. 'To be honest, she's one of the smallest I've seen with such a bad case. But she's here in time, and I don't expect any complications. She should be ok within a few days'.
Travis nods, breathing out through his mouth in an effort to hold it together. The Dr leaves the three of them in the room together, promising to be back shortly to check on Annie's progress and install the feeding tube.
Taylor is bending over the crib, her finger tracing Annabelle's cheeks, as she watches her finally have a peaceful sleep. 'She just looks so vulnerable, Trav. So little. And I couldn't protect her from this'.
