Longing For The Beach Billionaire Daddy
Chapter 205

*Michael*

I stared through the glass of the NICU at my newborn babies, feeling an indescribable combination of love, joy, and trepidation. My gaze traveled from my newborn son in the first ineubator to his twin sister in the second, unable to comprehend the torrent of emotions coursing through me.

They were so small, my son two pounds three ounces, and his sister just an ounce more. My heart swelled with love as I counted each precious finger and toe, the tiny digits twitching against the nurse’s gloved hands as he checked their vitals.

Both babies’ heads were covered in a downy, blond fuzz that always seemed prominent on preemies. Their faces are slightly covered by the tape holding the feeding tubes that went down one nostril, as well as the oxygen tubes that helped their lungs get much-needed oxygen.

Their small chests had sticky patches that held their heart monitors on, and their arms had stints to help keep them from pulling the IVs out of their tiny arms. Both babies slept peacefully, probably dreaming of being content in the womb.

Despite the hustle and bustle of the NICU, a calming peace reigned. Monitors beeped softly in the background, and nurses spoke in low voices as they moved from bed to bed. I watched transfixed as a visiting doctor checked up on his tiny patient, humming a cheerful tune as he did so.

Knowing that such kind hands were lovingly caring for my precious babies gave me insurmountable comfort.

The NICU ran like a well-oiled machine. Each baby received the same level of attention, each diaper change was done with tender care, every tube was connected with precision, and each heart rate was monitored around the clock.

I knew when we chose this hospital that it was one of the best, but as I watched it play out before my eyes, I was thankful we made the choice we did.

A nurse came to my side and explained what to expect in the days and weeks ahead as our babies continued to grow. She said that while it was unlikely they would be able to return home with us anytime soon, she was confident that with time, rest, and care, they would both start flourishing and doing well.

During this time, we’d have lots of check-ups with the doctor to ensure that their lungs were healthy and functioning correctly, as well as other tests related to their overall health. Additionally, there’d be daily visits from physical therapists who would teach them how to eat on their own, as well as ensure their muscles were strengthened enough to head home from the NICU.

“Thank you so much for taking the time to speak with me,” I told the nurse as I checked my watch and realized that Shelby should have been back in a room by now. “I should head to the OR waiting room to check on my wife. I trust the babies will be in excellent care while I’m gone, thank you.”

“Talking with parents during these delicate moments is part of the job. If I can help lessen stress and provide reassurance that these tiny fighters are getting excellent care, it’s a job well done. I hope your wife is doing well.

The babies are in great hands, sir,” the kind nurse reassured me once more as I left the room.

As I made my way down the hallway, nurses rushed by with trays of medical instruments and bottles of medication. I noticed the air was heavy with stress and anxiety as I approached the waiting room. A nurse stood in the doorway, her face pale and drawn.

“Mr. Astor?” she asked as I stopped in front of her, noting how her shoulders turned down slightly as I faced

her.

“Yes, that’s me,” I responded, my heart pounding in my chest. “How is she? Is everything okay?”

The nurse hesitated for a moment before answering,

“There were some complications during the surgery.” she said softly. “Dr. Adams is still working on her, but we re very unsure of the prognosis.”

My mind reeled as I tried to process her words. What did that mean? Was she going to be okay?

“She was fine when I left the OR. I mean, maybe a bit pale, but she was talking to me, what the hell happened?!” I cried out, startling the nurse.

“Dr. Adams initially prepped Shelby for the Caesarian because she had developed HELL syndrome. The HELLP syndrome brought on another disorder called disseminated intravascular coagulation. It is rare, but I have seen it happen with people suffering from HELLP syndrome. DIC is a bleeding and clotting disorder that has affected Shelby’s body, and it isn’t allowing her uterus to contract as it should to control the bleeding. She’s lost quite a bit of b***d, which we are replacing,” the nurse looked sympathetic as she explained the condition ailing my wife.

“What type of treatment are they doing to stop the bleeding?” I asked, fear and concern flooding through

me.

The nurse sighed, her eyes never leaving my face.

“Right now we’re waiting on radiology to complete a scan so that our team can get a better picture of what’s going on and then start the most appropriate treatment. But,” she paused for a moment, her voice softening, “we need to be able to stop the bleeding soon or else Shelby may end up needing a total hysterectomy in order to save her life.

“She has to be okay! I love her,’ I said as I leaned my back against the wall and began to cry.

The nurse walked over to me and placed her hand gently on my shoulder. “I know.’ she said, her voice soft yet firm, “Dr. Adams and the trauma team are going to do everything they can to pull her through this.

She looked around the hallway before continuing.

“You’re doing an incredible job holding it together right now, but you shouldn’t have to go through this alone. Is there anvone vou can call that can come to sit with vou while you wait? Having a support person here could be a great help.”

I nodded in agreement and wiped away the tears from my eyes. I knew who I had to call- Lin. Gathering up as much composure as I could muster, I called her cell phone number.

“Lin, the babies are here,” I told her as soon as she said hello.

“Oh my gosh, how are they?!” she questioned excitedly.

“They’re strong but tiny. They’re in the NICU getting the best care this state has to offer. We’re looking at 5-10 weeks in the hospital, but their lungs are doing amazing.

But, uh, Shelby isn’t doing so great.” My voice broke as I mentioned Shelby’s name.

After telling her what had happened, Lin told me she would call Aubrey, and they would both come immediately to be by my side at the hospital. Relief flooded over me like a wave crashing on the shore, and I walked back to check on my babies in the NICU.

I walked down the sterile, white, bleak halls, my heart heavy with worry for Shelby and our babies. Even though I was preparing myself for the worst, a faint spark of hope still glimmered in my heart.

I entered the NICU, sanitizing my hands before dressing in a gown. The room was still and calm, with only a few parents visiting their tiny warriors. I scanned the room and spotted the little twins tucked into their own separate incubators side-by-side on the left side of the wide-open room.

A nurse was checking the numbers displayed on a monitor to the right of one of the beds, and she smiled at me from across the room. She motioned for me to come closer, then made her way over to another baby.

As I approached them, tears welled up in my eyes at the sight of them so small and fragile but so full of life at the same time. It took every ounce of strength in my body not to break down. Taking a deep breath to steady myself, I grabbed a rocking chair from across the room and positioned it between their incubators.

I peered in at the sleeping babies, studying the little fighters so dependent on machines to help them survive.

The twins were so small, I felt like I could hold them both in one hand, their tiny diapers smaller than my palm barely covering their delicate bodies. Our son lay peacefully, his small chest rising and falling, and our daughter opened and closed her eyes as if she was acknowledging me watching her.

Despite their fragility, they looked perfectly content and peaceful lying in the plastic pods filled with warmth from the special light projected down on them. I smiled as the babies squirmed occasionally, one of them fighting a case of hiccups.

I whispered stories about Shelby to them telling them how brave she was when she faced what seemed like insurmountable challenges. How hopeful she always remained even when things were bleak. How strong her love for them was. How wonderful it felt to know that such an incredible woman chose me to be by her side forever.

I told them stories about the beautiful memories we had made so far and all of the plans Shelby had for them in the future.

“Your mom sang to the both of you every night. She’d sit in the nursery and sing the first song that popped into her head. She was always lovingly rubbing her bump and talking about who she thought you would look like. You hit the jackpot of moms, kiddos,” I regaled the babies with talk of Shelby, and the stories I told made me feel better by the minute.

I pretended the babies listened intently like they knew exactly what I was saying. The calm moment helped me gather my bearings, giving me the strength to wait for Lin and Aubrey. Shelby was going to pull through this because there was no other option.

I sat there for what felt like hours, watching the rise and fall of the twins’ chests, each breath a small victory. I couldn’t help but think how lucky they were to have a mother like Shelby – someone so full of grit and determination. I was lost in my thoughts when I heard the door to the NICU creak open.

My heart dropped when I recognized the nurse from the OR waiting room, was she here to give me bad news?

She held a hand up and motioned for me to follow her into the hallway. Telling the babies I’d be back soon, I stood, took a deep breath, and walked with my head high out of the NICU. I refused to have negative thoughts and reminded myself that I had to be strong. For Shelby.