Alle Kapitel von Pregnant By My Ex-Boyfriend's Father: Kapitel 111 – Kapitel 120

Week twenty-nine. Tuesday morning.I woke up wrong.Not sick. Not in pain.Just... wrong.Everything felt off.I sat up. Dizzy. Nauseous."You okay?" Marcus asked, already dressed for work."I don't know. I feel weird.""Weird how?""Just... off. Dizzy. Headache."He came to the bed. Put his hand on my forehead."You're warm.""I'm always warm. I'm pregnant.""Warmer than usual." He frowned. "Maybe you should stay home today.""I have the Vance deposition at ten. I can't miss it.""Luna—""I'm fine. Just tired. I'll be fine."He didn't look convinced. "Call me if it gets worse.""I will."He left. I got up slowly.Shower. Dress. Coffee.By 8 AM, I felt slightly better.Just pregnancy. Nothing to worry about.---At the office, Jenny took one look at me."You look terrible.""Good morning to you too."

The NICU was loud.Not what I expected.Beeping. Alarms. Ventilators whooshing. Babies crying.Chaos organized by medical precision.A nurse met us at the door."I'm Sarah. I'll be Evelyn's primary nurse today. She's in Pod C, isolette seven."Isolette. Not a crib. An incubator.We followed her through the maze of equipment.Past other tiny babies. Other terrified parents.Then we saw her.---Evie.Our daughter.So impossibly small.She lay in a clear plastic box. Naked except for a diaper the size of my palm.Wires everywhere. Taped to her chest. Her feet. Her head.A breathing tube down her throat. Ventilator breathing for her.IV lines in both hands.A feeding tube through her nose.She didn't look real.She looked like a doll. Fragile. Breakable."Oh my God," I whispered.Marcus said nothing. Just stared.Sarah started

Week four. Day twenty-three.Evie weighed three pounds, seven ounces.Still tiny. But growing. Thriving.Off CPAP completely now. Breathing room air.On her own. No support."She's doing everything a full-term baby does," Dr. Chen said. "Just smaller.""When can she come home?" I asked for the hundredth time."When she hits four pounds and maintains temperature in an open crib for forty-eight hours. Also needs to pass the car seat test.""Car seat test?""We put her in her car seat for ninety minutes. Monitor her breathing and heart rate. Make sure she doesn't desat or have apnea in the semi-reclined position.""When can we do that?""When she hits four pounds. Probably next week."One more week. Maybe.We'd been here twenty-three days. One more week felt impossible and also right there.---That afternoon, they started rooming-in training.Teaching us how to care for Evie

Week eight. Two months old.Evie weighed six pounds, four ounces.Still tiny. Still in preemie clothes. But growing.She smiled constantly now. Cooed. Made eye contact.Slept in three-hour stretches at night. Sometimes four.We were functioning. Almost like actual humans.My maternity leave ended in four weeks.Twelve weeks total. Standard.But nothing about Evie was standard.---Walter called on Tuesday morning."Luna. How are you?""Good. Tired. Covered in baby drool. The usual.""How's Evie?""Six pounds now. Smiling. Thriving.""That's wonderful. Listen, I wanted to talk about your return."My stomach tightened. "Okay.""Your leave ends in four weeks. Are you planning to come back?""I... I don't know.""You don't know?""Evie was ten weeks premature. She's technically only supposed to be two weeks old. Coming back at twelve weeks feels..."

December 1st. Monday.5:30 AM. I was dressed. Ready. Terrified.Evie was still asleep. Marcus was making coffee."You look good," he said."I look like I haven't slept.""That too. But professional."I sat at the table. Drank coffee. Tried not to throw up."What if she screams all day?""Then she screams. The daycare can handle it.""What if she doesn't eat?""She'll eat. She loves bottles.""What if—""Luna. She'll be fine. You'll be fine. It's one day."One day. Then another. Then another. Forever.---At 6:30 AM, Evie woke up.I fed her. Changed her. Dressed her in the outfit I'd picked last night.Pink onesie. Little pants. Socks that wouldn't stay on.She smiled at me. Happy. Oblivious."You're going to daycare today," I told her. "And Mama's going to work. But I'll pick you up at 6 PM. I promise."She grabbed my finger. Squeezed.