Baby Girl

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to perttis and Ausut_Afterglow, I'm working on your requests, I promise, I just got this idea in the middle of the night and had to write it

Taylor breathes out a relieved sigh as she collapses back against the pillow, eyes closing. Her grip on your hand loosens ever so slightly as she pants, trying to catch her breath.

Her whole body is covered in a sheen of sweat, and her nails have left crescent marks in your palm.

For a moment, all is well, until your wife's eyes open again, and she mutters, "Why didn't . . . Why's no one crying?"

You look around. The doctors had left immediately after the call of, "Baby out!"

"Where's Izzy?" Taylor whimpers, removing her legs from the stirrups, wincing a bit at the movement, and glancing around worriedly, tears starting to well in her eyes. "Where's my baby girl?"

"I . . ." You search yourself for an answer, but truthfully, you're just as clueless as she is.

Taylor sits up, her hand tightening once again around yours as she does so.

The door to the hospital room opens, and a nurse comes in.

"Where's my baby?" Taylor demands of her, her voice trembling with panic and exhaustion.

The nurse's expression is grave, but she tries to maintain a professional calm. "Your baby needed immediate attention," she says gently. "She's with the neonatal team now. We're doing everything we can for her."

Taylor's grip on your hand becomes almost painful. "What's wrong with her?" she asks, tears spilling down her cheeks. "Why isn't she here with me?"

The nurse steps closer, her eyes soft with sympathy. "She was having trouble breathing on her own. We had to act quickly. But she's in good hands, I promise."

Your wife's grip on your hands tightens painfully, and you feel a lump forming in your throat as you watch Taylor's heart break right before your eyes. She starts to sob, her body shaking with each heaving breath. You wrap your arms around her, trying to offer what little comfort you can.

"We'll see her soon," you murmur, hoping your words will soothe her. "She's a fighter, just like her mom."

Taylor clings to you, her tears soaking your shirt. "But what if she isn't?" she sobs. "She's a baby, Y/N!"

You gently cradle Taylor's face, forcing her to meet your eyes. "She is, Taylor. Our girl is strong, and she's going to fight. We have to believe that."

The nurse gives a reassuring nod. "The doctors are highly skilled, and they are giving Izzy the best care possible. I'll keep you updated, and you can see her as soon as she's stable."

Taylor wipes her tears with the back of her hand, trying to steady her breathing. "I want to see her now."

The nurse hesitates. "I understand, but it's important that we let the team do their work. Right now, you need to rest and recover. We'll take you to her as soon as it's safe."

You continue to hold Taylor, but she pulls away from you. "I want to see her."

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Swift, but —"

Taylor cuts her off, "I don't care what you have to say," Taylor snaps, her voice rising in desperation. "I need to see my daughter now."

The nurse looks conflicted but remains firm. "I promise you, as soon as it's safe for you and for Izzy, we will bring you to her. Please, trust us."

Taylor's shoulders slump in defeat, and she looks to you, eyes pleading. You squeeze her hand gently, feeling her pain as acutely as your own. "We'll be with her soon, I promise."

Time seems to crawl as you sit together, every second feeling like an eternity. Finally, after what feels like hours, a different nurse enters the room. Her face is serious, but there's a hint of a smile tugging at her lips.

"Mrs. and Mrs. Swift," she begins softly, "Izzy is stable now. You can see her."

Taylor practically leaps out of the bed, wobbling slightly before you catch her.

"Careful."

The nurse offers a wheelchair, and Taylor reluctantly sits, her eyes never leaving the door.

As you walk through the quiet corridors, you feel a mixture of anxiety and anticipation. The world outside feels distant, every step taking you closer to the moment you've both been yearning for.

When you finally reach the NICU, your heart pounds in your chest. The nurse guides you to an incubator where a tiny, fragile figure lies. Izzy's small chest rises and falls with each breath, assisted by the delicate tubes and wires surrounding her.

Taylor's breath catches in her throat, and tears spill down her cheeks anew. "She's so tiny," she whispers, reaching out to touch the glass.

"Hi, Izzy," you coo, smiling. "Mommy and Mama's here."

"We're always here, baby girl," Taylor says softly, her voice cracking.

I literally almost put "Always" as the title again, I'm gonna cry

also, does anyone want an alternative to this where it's just fluff and Izzy's healthy?

Hugs and kisses,

Zee

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