Chapter 18. Yuri : Daughter.

I entered the neonatal unit slowly. In a sterilized hospital gown over my clothes. With a mask covering my mouth and nose. There were few incubators in front of me. The many monitors, wires, and tubes in the enclosed spaces felt so daunting even with the presence of nurses and other parents. The hums, beeps and lights coming from the many equipment made me feel so out of place.

A mother next to the incubator close to the door smiled at me. She held her tiny baby so close to her chest, hugging the swaddled infant like not even apocalypse could set them apart.

I smiled back, feeling a little at ease. I knew if Jessica was awake she would do the same, holding our baby close like her life was depend on it.

Jessica. My dear wife. The last time I heard the news from the doctors was of the surgery to fix her broken leg scheduled in three days. I hoped that by the next day, there would be good news. And maybe, before this week ended, my wife would wake up and we could visit our baby together.

A nurse in a pastel pink uniform greeted me, flashing a small smile as her eyes briefly scanned the name tag on my chest. “Come here, Mr.Kwon. Your baby has been waiting for you.”

Probably without realizing it, the nurse had stabbed my heart with her words. I should have visited my daughter sooner. Jessica underwent a spinal cord surgery two days before and I had been so focused on her. I hated to admit that Jessica was still my priority. That I was afraid of losing my wife more than I was afraid of neglecting my daughter.

And there she was. My daughter with tubes and wires around her tiny frame. She was still as wrinkly as the first time I had seen her. The diaper was clearly too big for her small body, like a giant cloud swallowing the tiny princess while she lied still inside the incubator.

“What's that?” Afraid that my voice would disturb the peace, I whispered to the nurse. There was a new tube connected to my baby's nose

“Your baby was born a little early she hasn't fully developed the ability to yet. The tube helps feeding her until we can bottle fed her.”

I grimaced. I couldn't even imagine how it felt for my little daughter to has such contraption down .

“Is she sleeping?”

“Yes.”

“Not unconscious?” I glanced at the monitor that was probably showing my baby's heartbeat. The lines went up and down in a pattern that seemed stable to my eyes. Still I was afraid that she was at the same place with her mother. Far beyond my reach.

“No.” The nurse took a chart from the side of the incubator, reading it for me. “Baby Kwon has woken up a few times since she is assigned to the neonatal unit. No apparent trouble of breathing or sign of any preemies disease detected so far.”

“Thank God.” I sighed.

“There are forms that need to be filled later. But for a start, do you already have a name for your baby?” The nurse took out her pen, hand hovered over the chart.

Her question brought me back to the many discussions I had had with Jessica. Ever since the last ultrasoun, suggestions for name had been tossed around between us and within our family. Sadly, up to the incident, we hadn't decided on any particular one yet.

“It's okay. We can always write the name later.” The nurse tucked her pen back, probably reading into my silence. “We'll alert you when visiting time is over. In the mean time, spend as much quality time as possible with your little one.”

The nurse then informed me of what to do and what not to do. She told me that, for now, I could only touch my baby through the round opening on the side of the incubators. She also narrated how important it was for me to communicate with my baby. That talking or singing to the newborn would give her a bigger chance for a normal growth.

With a smile that made me more nervous, the nurse left me alone with my baby.

I sighed, sitting on the stool by the incubator. Only the two of us now and I had no idea of what else to do but staring into the transparent box.

There are a few other parents in the room. Singing moms, caring dads, All busy with each of their babies. There were two more fathers in the room, but none was alone like me. None was under the same predicament as me.

It feels like there's a big lump stuck in my throat. I had no idea where to to start. Not without Jessica by my side. This could have happened in a much different way if the accident hadn't ruined everything. The three of us should have been in a much happier place.

“Hey...” Someone whispered to me. A few meters to the left, a mother with her baby tucked under her thick sweater smiled at me. With just the baby's head visible, the mother reminded me of a kangaroo that keeps its baby in its pouch. “It's okay. Touch your baby. Talk to her.”

I inserted my right hand into the opening, but stopped a few millimeters above my baby's head.

“You won't hurt her. She needs your touch to grow well. Do it.”

I gave it a try after a deep breath. First, only my forefinger touched the tips of my baby's black hair. Then after a few , I gathered enough courage to caress her wrinkly forehead.

“Good job.” My new acquaintance, the kangaroo mom, smiled reassuringly.

“Thank you.” I was pretty sure I mirrored her smile. My heart swelled with joy at the moment. She gave me a thumb up before focusing back on her baby. I did the same to my little princess.

Then my daughter blinked, tiny eyes fluttered open. I was so shocked that I immediately tried to retract my hands from the incubator, knocking things in the process. A whimper came out from my baby, barely audible but pierced through my heart. I looked around in panic, afraid I had done my daughter harm.

“What's happened?” A nurse came closer, checking the monitor by the incubators.

“She woke up. I accidentally knocked things.” I looked up worriedly at the nurse. “Did I hurt her?”

“I don't think so.” The nurse said after a few more check. “She's just a little shocked.”

“She's still whimpering.” My nose almost touched the glass as I looked closely to make sure.

“A little cry is good for the development of her lungs. Come, try to soothe her.”

“But...” I looked up at the nurse, silently pleading for help. How was I supposed to soothe a baby? I had never done such thing before. To my dismay, the nurse just patted my back and left with a smile.

“Talk to her. Sing to her.” The kangaroo mom, clearly amused by my predicament, came to my side while wrapping a coat around herself. Her baby was left sleeping in its incubator. “Tell her a story.”

“But... I can't.”

“Of course you can.” She gave the incubator where my baby lied a gentle knock. “Hey, little darling. Don't cry. Your daddy is here for you.”

Then she stood still, watching as I slowly insert my hand into the incubator again.

I pat the tiny bump encased by the giant diaper, making awkward shushing sound to calm my baby.

“See? Easy. I'm BoA by the way, mother of strong and happy little Chanyeol over there.” She pointed at her baby's incubator with a big smile. “See you later, first time daddy.”

I nodded at her, mouthing my gratitude and farewell while kept on patting my baby gently.