Day three post-delivery, Emma was moved from the ICU to a private recovery room. Still weak, still in pain, but stable enough to not need critical care monitoring.
The room had a window—the first natural light Emma had seen in what felt like forever. She sat in the chair by the window, moving slowly, carefully, one hand pressed against her abdomen where the surgical incision throbbed with every breath.
"You're supposed to be resting," Alexander said, returning from the cafeteria with coffee Emma still wasn't cleared to drink.
"I've been resting for twelve weeks. I'm done resting." Emma shifted, trying to find a position that didn't hurt. Everything hurt. "When can I go to the NICU again?"
"Dr. Martinez said you can go this afternoon if you feel up to it. But Emma, you had major surgery three days ago. You need to heal."
"I'll heal at the NICU. With Daniel." Emma's voice was firm despite her exhaustion. "I missed thirty-six hours of his life. I'm not missing any more."
