Chapter 52 ~

"I'll be frank. Josh has had somewhat a difficult time the last few weeks."

Ethan and Theresa only nodded at Dr. Malloy's opening statement. They were well aware of everything Josh had been through in the last six weeks. For awhile, it looked like everything would be fine. He put on weight, he was able to handle more and more stimuli from the outside environment, his vital signs had always been stable and strong. He even showed signs that the surfactant treatments that had been started to facilitate the process of lung development and his ability to breathe on his own were working. He'd steadily been "breathing over" the ventilator (meaning he was breathing more times in a minute than the number of breaths the ventilator was set to give him) for two weeks, and they had been ready to extubate.

But he had suddenly spiked a temperature of nearly 104 degrees, it was found that he had a systemic blood infection, and he had been on antibiotics for the last three weeks. During that time, the infection wreaked havoc on his little body, and his respiratory status declined again. In fact, at one point the ventilator was again breathing for him one hundred percent of the time. Thankfully, he seemed to take a turn for the better. The blood tests showed the infection was gone, though he would stay on antibiotics for a few more days as a precaution. His vital signs had again stabilized, and he was again beginning to breathe over the ventilator.

For some reason though, Theresa could not take comfort. She still carried with her a feeling of unease, a feeling of dread. The vision of her barely holding on as her life sank beneath her had come back in full force. Ethan thought she was borrowing trouble. He found hope in the smallest things, in even one breath their son breathed on his own. He lived blissfully in the belief that Josh would be leaving with them for home in a few weeks, and couldn't fathom why Theresa couldn't. It was something they argued about constantly…

"Babe. I don't get you. I always thought you'd be the one carrying me! Giving me the undying hope. Reminding me that you believed in us when no one else did, and you turned out to been right. And that you'd be right about this too. That fate meant for us to be happy, so nothing bad could happen. Where is that eternal optimism that I love about you so much?"

"… 'So nothing bad could happen'? Ethan look around! Something bad has already happened. And I talked about fate when I was a child! When the only bad thing to happen to me really was the time Matt Olsen chased me around the playground and told all the other boys I had cooties in the third grade. Even fighting for you was more of a romantic fairly tale adventure than a problem. This is real life. And our son is really fighting for his. And he really could lose the battle. We're not kids anymore. I have to grow up sometime.

"And what about you? I always thought you'd be there to catch me when I fall. That you'd always be my hero, my rock, my safe place in the harbor. Where is that strength I love so much about you?"

Ethan's temple pulsed as he gritted his teeth. "Strength? You want to know where it is? It's tied to my hope that everything is going to be fine. In the place where my dream of the day we take him home and put him to bed in his little bassinet in his freshly finished nursery lives. Because without that hope, without that dream, my strength doesn't exist, OK? It simply doesn't exist."

"Then how can you expect me to be upbeat and positive if your strength—the one I rely on so much—isn't there?"

"You used to be able to! You used to be able to make me believe in anything you chose no matter how ridiculous or inappropriate anyone else thought it was. Why can't you do it now?" Ethan's eyes pleaded with her, the pain unbearable to her heart.

"I don't know!" she cried. "I don't know. I just…can't…"

It broke Theresa's heart that she and Ethan couldn't really grieve together on this, weren't truly supporting each other. But what were they supposed to do? Things had happened so fast, and they were reacting to one scenario after the next so quickly they were just keeping their heads above water.

"Yes, Doctor. We know things haven't been easy, but Josh is getting better right? I mean, you said the infection is gone, and he's starting to breathe on his own again." Ethan looked at the doctor, begging him with the unspoken word for him to tell him they had nothing to worry about, and Theresa brought her attention back to the meeting.

Dr. Malloy looked guarded. "That is true. However, a set back like the one Josh experienced really can do a number on a premature baby, especially one that had as many challenges as Josh." He paused and Theresa spoke.

"Has it effected Josh in a harmful way?"

"Not that we can see on paper. Like I said, he has shown definite signs of improvement. But when I look at your son, I don't see the quality of improvement that I'd like." Dr. Malloy gave the couple a minute to digest this.

"What are you saying then?" Theresa asked. Ethan sat next to her tensely. He reached for her hand, and gripped it in a death vice, and in that moment she knew she had to be the strong one. She didn't know how she'd do it, but she couldn't break down for Ethan's sake.

The good doctor had obviously given this a lot of thought as he began to speak immediately. "I think we've reached a deciding juncture—a now or never time if you will—with your son. He is breathing over the vent as we discussed, his labs and vitals are stable. I'm afraid that if we leave him on the ventilator too long now, he'll become dependent on it, and we'll never be able to get him off."

"So…ahem." Ethan cleared his throat. "So you want to remove the ventilator?"

"Are you sure he's ready?" Theresa asked.

Dr. Malloy didn't confirm or deny his feelings in his body language. "We've been slowly weaning the ventilator off, and I think that we're to a level where we could remove it safely." He looked serious. "I think it's time to see if he can do this. And if he can't, we can always re intubate for a little while."

"You'll be watching him the whole time right? Nobody's going to leave his side until we know if he really can breathe on his own?" Theresa was desperate to know, and Dr. Malloy nodded.

"Absolutely. I'll never leave his side."

"When will you do this? Today?" Ethan asked.

"Ideally. You and your wife talk about it and let me know what you think. But I'm prepared to do it as soon as you give the word."

Ethan and Theresa sat in silence when the doctor left.

"I've dreamed of this moment since the day he was born, and now that it's here I'm scared out of my mind." Ethan's voice was hoarse, telling of the truth of his statement.

Theresa knew exactly the feeling that he was describing. Her own fear was threatening to choke her to death. But she suddenly had clarity in her thoughts, an epiphany of sorts. She didn't know where it had come from, but she knew it was true.

"You were talking about fate earlier." Ethan looked at her steadily and she continued. "I'm not sure if fate is appropriate here, but if there ever was a time to believe in something greater, something beyond human imagination, I think this would be it. This is the time to have a little faith."

Ethan nodded and he smiled as some of the old Theresa seemed to come through. "You're right. He's going to be fine. They're going to turn off the ventilator, and he's going to breathe on his own. I know it. OK then. Let's give Dr. Malloy the go ahead."

"Um Ethan, wait." Theresa looked to have something on her mind.

"What is it?"

"I think we should wait until we can get all our family to come and see him." she said. Her reason was immediately clear to Ethan.

"Theresa! He's not going to die! He's going to be fine! Where's that faith you were just talking about?" His tone was accusing.

Theresa closed her eyes. "I'm not saying that he won't be fine. I just think we need to give our families time to be here in case this doesn't work. Especially the kids." He still looked mad, so she tried again. "I'm just trying to think practically. You taught me that!"

"He's not going to die." Ethan said again, but his voice was losing some of its venom. His demeanor begging for her to agree.

Theresa couldn't do that. Not even to comfort her husband. She simply gave a sympathetic nod.

"Let's go call the family."

Theresa laid her hand gently against the incubator and looked lovingly at her precious baby. He had changed a lot since that first night and she loved him as completely as it was possible to love another human being. It never ceased to amaze her how deep and all encompassing a mother's love could be. How the more she gave, the more her heart had to give. She didn't have less for each of her children as the next ones came along, but it instead grew with leaps and bounds. In the six short weeks Joshua had been alive, she couldn't imagine her life without him. It was like he had always been a part of it.

And today, she might be asked to let him go.

Could she really? If called upon to give her son back to The One who had given him, could she do it? The tears that immediately sprang into her eyes told her she couldn't. She tried to follow Ethan's example and simply believe that it all would turn out well. Believe that Josh would breathe on his own when they turned off the ventilator. Believe that they would rock him to sleep in their own home in merely a few weeks time. Closing her eyes, she tried to picture it…she in the newly refinished rocker, Josh in her arms. Ethan kneeling beside them, his own hand resting against Josh's head allowing his arm to hold them both…

"Help me!" She struggled to keep from falling in the water that was preparing to swallow her. "Help me! Help!"

"Theresa?"

She was jerked out of the vision, gasping for breath, at the sound of Paloma's voice.

"Are you OK?" Paloma's eyes were concerned, as were Noah's who stood beside her. Theresa hadn't hear them come in.

"I'm fine." Theresa tried to force a smile. "It's just hard, you know."

"I can't even imagine." Paloma hugged her sister. "Pretty much all our family is here. We all rode up at the same time. The staff is making us take turns coming in."

"Yeah. And Dad and Jess will be here soon. I'm not sure about Ivy, but I don't think she'd miss this." Noah added.

Theresa didn't say anything, but she doubted that Ivy would come. Ivy had been to the hospital only a handful of times to see her grandson, and said that it was just too hard to see him like this.

"OK. Great. You guys stay awhile then, and I'll go see everyone else in the lounge."

"Hi Theresa." Martin reached to give his oldest daughter a hug and she didn't pull away. Martin took this as he always did, as a victory for the moment. She had been true to her word, and had not once kept him from seeing the newest member of her family in the last six weeks. And though she never initiated conversation or shows of affection, she didn't shy away when he did. He wasn't sure if that meant she'd forgiven him or not, but he took it for what it was and was grateful for it.

"How are you holding up, Mija?" Pilar was next with a hug.

Theresa shrugged. "As well as can be expected I guess." She looked around the room. "Where are the kids?"

"Ethan took them to the vending machine. He knew you'd gripe about the chocolate, but he figured this one time wouldn't hurt." Luis answered. He held out his arm from where he sat on the couch with Fancy, and Theresa sat close. Miguel and Kay came close too. They didn't need to say anything. She felt their support. Kay must've sensed what Theresa was afraid to say, because she patted her hand and leaned forward encouragingly.

"It's going to be fine. The doctor wouldn't be doing this if he didn't think it was time. Josh is going to be fine."

"That's what I keep trying to tell her." Ethan had gotten back with the kids and was sitting beside her, making the couch a tight fit for the four adults. The girls hopped up into various grown up laps, Bud sat on the arm of the couch by his father, and Ethan looked at his wife. "This is the beginning of something good. I know it."

"So has all your family seen the baby?" Dr. Malloy stood next to Ethan and Theresa beside Josh's bed. "Are you ready?"

Looking at each other and collectively taking a deep breath, they nodded.

"We're…we're ready." Ethan said.

"OK. Well, lets get this tube out and see how he does."

"It's been 45 minutes. He's been breathing on his own for 45 minutes. That's good right?" Theresa turned to the doctor who was watching Josh's vitals by the monitors at the nurses' desk.

Dr. Malloy nodded with a smile. "That's very good. We're not out of the woods yet though. We need to see how long he can sustain it. But this is definitely a good sign!"

"Did you hear that Ethan? It's a good sign!" Some of Theresa's undying optimism was coming back and Ethan grinned as he hugged her.

"I told you it was all going to be fine!"

"Yeah, you did!" Theresa laughed.

They reached the one-hour mark, and Josh didn't seem to be minding a bit that he wasn't hooked to the ventilator anymore. Dr. Malloy became even more optimistic.

"He's looking really good. I think I'll stay a few more minutes to watch and then I'll be on my way."

Theresa turned to Ethan. "Maybe we should let everyone know its going OK. They're probably worried."

When they walked into the lounge everyone stood, their eyes large and questioning.

"He's doing fine!" Ethan exclaimed, and quiet prayers of relief and thanksgiving were raised.

"Oh Mija! That's such good news!" Pilar cried as she hugged Theresa.

"I know!" Theresa's smile stretched off her face. "I was so scared. I didn't dare believe it. But Ethan was right to keep believing."

"So what does the doctor say?" Sam asked.

"He's thinks everything looks just fine. He was just going to stay a few more minutes to watch, but he doesn't think we should have any problems." Ethan answered.

The family talked for a few more minutes and then the kids clamored to see their brother.

"I think that would be a good idea." Theresa said. "As soon as Dr. Malloy says it's OK, we'll take you in."

"Speaking of the doc, maybe we should get back." Ethan said, and Theresa agreed.

"Code Blue. NICU. Code Blue. NICU."

The urgent voice over the intercom froze everyone in their tracks.

"Code Blue. NICU. Code Blue. NICU."

The message was repeated again, and Ethan and Theresa tried to breathe. Then simultaneously ran from the room. There were several other babies in the NICU so it was entirely possible that the call wasn't for Josh. But until they saw for themselves, they couldn't help the panic.

Reaching the viewing window, Ethan and Theresa took in the site of the code team working around a bed and then felt the world screech to a halt.

It was their son's bed the doctors and nurses were swarming around.

"No! No!" Theresa yelled.

They ran into the room, not following any protocol they had been asked to keep before, and were immediately met by a nurse.

"What happened?" Ethan demanded.

"No…no…no…! You have to save my baby!" Theresa was starting to sob.

"He just got tired. As we were watching, his saturation started dropping, and his respiratory effort increased and became more labored. After about five minutes, Dr. Malloy thought we should re intubate. He was getting ready to call for you when Josh stopped breathing all together and his heart stopped too."

"We weren't here! Ethan, we weren't here!" Theresa was inconsolable, and Ethan was crying as well.

"Please! They have to save our son! They have to!" he choked out.

"Don't worry Mr. Winthrop. They're doing the very best they can. Dr. Malloy won't stop until the last option is exhausted." the nurse answered soothingly.

For the next 45 minutes, the doctors and nurses worked tirelessly over Joshua, the nurse beside them explaining everything as it was done. But Theresa couldn't attend. All she could see was the water waiting to engulf her, the hand holding her out of it straining with the effort.

And then in slow motion it was over. Dr. Malloy raised his hand in a sign to stop, and the staff surrendered in defeat.

"No! No! They can't stop!" Ethan exclaimed.

They watched Dr. Malloy look at the clock. "Time of death…"

"NOOOOOOO!"

Hearing the agonized cry of a heartbroken mother, and the guttural sobs of a weeping father, the other parents in the NICU felt their pain.

"NOOOOO!" Theresa cried again. "Ethan, our baby!"

Ethan could only vaguely hear his wife's sobs. His own were deafening in his ears. "Josh-ua!" he whispered brokenly. Unable to hold Theresa up, they both sank to the floor in grief.

And the ocean of water swallowed them both.