The SONS Daughter

3lbs 6oz

Two days after I had entered the hospital my baby boy decided he had wanted to see the world. Everybody else thought it was too early, however the Teller in him told them all to go screw themselves.

"Come on hun one more push!" My mom shouted from behind the doctor, who was in fact between my legs. I squeezed Opies hand, and gave one big push, screaming out in pain as I did so. I heard a small cry erupt, and looked around as everybody's faces went from stress, to instant euphoria. In a matter of seconds, my newborn son was cleaned up, and taken out of the room down to the NICU.

My mind went foggy and I closed my eyes. I shut out everything around me, not wanting to hear about bleeding in the brain, undeveloped organs, or possible disabilities.

After the nurses had finished cleaning me up, they left me with my mom. Opie had gone up to the NICU to watch over our son, and hound Tara for any information she had on him. There was a knock at the door, and my brother walked in. He came over and sat down next to me, putting his hand into mine.

"You remember when Abel was in there?" He paused for a second, and I turned to face him. "Nobody thought he would pull through, not even the doctors." He smiled down at me. "This is going to be the hardest time in your life, and for the next 18 year that boy is going to put you through hell and back, but I promise it only gets easier." He squeezed my hand and I nodded. "That kid is a Teller, he was born tough."

"Thanks Jax."

"How's your shoulder?" I asked him and he shrugged.

"It's getting there, it'll take some time."

"You still gonna ride?" He tilted his head to the side, raising an eyebrow at my question.

"What the hell do you think?" He smirked and I rolled my eyes.

"I can't believe I fucked up this badly."

"Hun this is not your fault, women can go into labor early for any reason." My mom tried to comfort me, but it didn't work.

After a few hours of visiting with friends and family, Opie came back down to the room. Tara followed him in, asking the guys to leave the room. Opie came over to me, his eye red and swollen from crying.

"Jacklyn I'm so sorry, I don't know how to say this," she paused and took a breath, looking to Opie with guilt filled eyes. "Your son has the same congenital heart defect that your mom and Abel have." She paused, letting the information seep into my brain. "I can take you up to see him, we advise you spend time with him over the next few days."

"What do you mean can't you do a surgery or something?" I asked, panic in my voice. Opie reached out and grabbed my hand.

"He's too young, we have to wait until he's at least 8 weeks old, but his chances of survival until then are extremely low." She grabbed a wheel chair and brought it over to me. "Come on, I'll take you to see him."

As Opie lead me down the hallway, my head spun around in circles and replayed the last few days over and over again. My body felt heavy, and I felt as if I had no muscle left to support myself. Going past people I felt everybody's eyes on me, and I could feel their emotions. Some people were overjoyed; their child had just been born healthy, or a procedure went extremely well. Others had felt the pain I was feeling; the pain of getting terrible news or losing a loved one, and even though they had their pain, I could feel their empathy as I was wheeled by them. Their eyes reading every detail between me and Opie. The lack of sleep showing through our skin, the constant tears making our eyes puffy and our noses red. We were all in the same place physically, and emotionally. All of us wanting nothing more than the pain and devastating feelings to come to an end.