August 31, 1993

"Cate, this is Liz Turner. She's going to help Dr. Sheffield," Mary said when Liz arrived to relieve her.

"Hi Cate. It's nice to meet you." Liz extended her hand to the young girl lying in the hospital bed.

"It's nice to meet you, too," Cate said politely, shaking Liz's hand.

"Her cervix is almost fully dilated. Contractions are close together," Mary told Liz in a hushed whisper.

Liz nodded. She took Mary's place beside Cate's bed.

Cate's expression became pained and she squeezed Liz's hand hard.

"Push," Liz reminded Cate.

Cate looked at Liz helplessly, her eyes wide with fear.

Liz smiled reassuringly at the teenager. She was so young. Only sixteen.

"You're doing great," Liz said kindly.

Cate returned the smile through gritted teeth.

"You're almost there. Push one more time," Liz instructed.

Cate nodded. She obeyed, grunting with the effort.

"Congratulations! You have a beautiful baby girl," Dr. Sheffield said.

Liz broke her hand free from Cate's vice grip and moved to the foot of Cate's hospital bed. She gently cleaned and bundled Cate's baby.

"Would you like to hold your daughter?" Liz asked, holding the baby out to Cate.

Cate shook her head. "No."

Liz frowned slightly. "Are you sure?"

Cate nodded slowly.

The baby cried.

Cate shut her eyes and turned toward the wall, away from Liz and her daughter.

Liz stared at Cate open-mouthed.

The child's cries grew louder.

Liz turned back to the baby in her arms. She held the child, patting her back gently as she walked into the hallway. The motion calmed the baby and her wails subsided.

Liz smiled. "That's a good girl," she murmured.

She carried the baby to the nursery and set her down in a basinet. She smiled slightly as the baby drifted off to sleep. She was a sweet baby.

September 1, 1993

Liz held Cate's daughter still as Dr. Wong examined her.

Dr. Wong held her stethoscope to the baby's little chest and frowned. "There's a murmur. Schedule an echocardiogram, MRI and chest X-ray."

Liz sucked in her breath. "Do you think she has congenital heart disease?" She asked, though she already knew the answer.

"That's why I'm ordering additional tests," Dr. Wong replied.

Liz sighed. It was never easy to see a sick child. She'd become a pediatric nurse because she wanted to help children, make them better. She hadn't realized at the time how difficult it would be when she couldn't make them better.

Liz felt even worse for this child. She knew Cate had given her up for adoption at birth. She wondered what would happen to the baby if she did have congenital heart disease.

Liz handed the baby off to another nurse and went to check on her next patient. Other cases kept Liz busy until the end of her shift, but in the back of her mind she was worried about Cate's daughter.

She stopped in the nursery on her way out. She skimmed Cate's daughter's file anxiously. The results of the tests Dr. Wong had ordered confirmed that the baby was born with a heart defect. She would need surgery to repair the defect.

Liz swallowed a lump in the back of her throat.

September 2, 1993

Liz was running late. She hurried to the nurse's station.

"There she is," Mary said, smiling at Liz.

Liz braced herself for a lecture on punctuality, but instead Christina said, "This is Fern. She's with Social Services. She's here for the Cassidy baby. You've been treating her, right?"

Liz nodded. "She's not ready to leave yet. She has CGD."

Christina nodded. "Can you bring Fern up to speed?"

"The baby had a heart murmur. We ran some tests to determine the cause. She has congenital heart disease," Liz explained as she led the way to the nursery.

Fern frowned. "Heart disease?"

"It means she has a hole in her heart," Liz said.

Fern's frown deepened. "Is she going to be OK?"

Liz sighed. "She needs surgery to repair the defect."

"When will she be ready to leave?" Fern asked.

"We don't know yet. Her surgery is scheduled for Friday, but recovery time varies." Liz smiled as they approached the baby's crib. She picked the child up. "Would you like to hold her?"

Fern accepted the baby. "She's beautiful."

Liz nodded in agreement. "She is. She's something special. She has blonde hair even though both of her parents had dark hair."

"It's such a shame," Fern mumbled.

Liz frowned. "What?"

"A blonde blue eyed baby would normally be adopted with no problem, but her heart disease will be a red flag for prospective parents," Fern explained.

Liz bit her lip. "What will happen to her?"

"I don't know," Fern admitted. "I hope we can find parents for her."

"And if you can't?" Liz pressed.

Fern sighed. "She'll enter the foster care system."

Liz instinctively took the baby from Fern, wanting to protect the child from everything and everyone.

Fern handed Liz a business card. "Here's my card. Keep me informed of her condition. I'll pick her up when she's ready to leave."

"Wait," Liz said quickly. "She doesn't have a name."

"No. We have waiting lists for babies. They're usually adopted right away and their adoptive parents name them," Fern explained.

"May I name her?" Liz asked.

"I suppose. If she's adopted, her parents can re-name her," Fern said.

Liz smiled at the baby in her arms. "You need a name. We can't keep calling you Jane Doe."

Jane Doe was the name the hospital used for patients whose names they did not know. It was usually used for victims of horrific accidents who did not remember their names or couldn't communicate their names because of injuries.

"You're not a victim. You're a survivor," Liz told the baby.

"Lux," Liz said softly, testing the name out. It meant light and Liz thought it suited this baby perfectly. A blonde baby born to a brunette mother. A ray of light born out of darkness.

The baby gurgled.

"Does that mean you like your name?" Liz asked, smiling slightly.