LIAM
Other than the occasional beep of the machines hooked on rain, it's quiet. I am lying on my side, an IV and bandages wrapped around my chest, in the bed next to rain's. I watch as his chest rises and falls with every exhale, his heartbeat echoing with the beep of the machine; eyes closed.
I haven't seen him for more than five months, noticing everything different yet the same. My baby's stomach is large, accommodating the little ones. His hand is laying on his side, and I gingerly reach out and touch it, with a trembling hand.
I hear his heart rate pick up for a second only for it to go back to normal. Squeezing the limp hand gently, I close my eyes, tears streaming down my face.
Am I too late? I can't be, I will try everything in my power, to keep him safe.
