­ It was a few minutes before the ambulance arrived and just a few more to the hospital. When I arrived, it was too late to stop labor. Our baby boy was delivered at just 25 weeks. He was so small, but he was strong. The doctors had to start him breathing and he was taken up to the NICU. Lucas made sure to take pictures of him while I got cleaned up. After a day, I was cleared to go see him in person. I was so excited and Lucas and I went together. We didn't speak, but we didn't need to. Our son was affirmation enough of our love. He was bringing us back together.

"Lucas, he's so little."

"I know, but he's strong"

"He needs a name you know." I said smiling up at Lucas. "I want to call him Jared. It was what I was going to name Maia if she had been a boy."

"How about a strong name, a name for a fighter, or maybe even a name that means strong?"

"Any ideas?"

"Um, yeah. Aaron and Ethan both mean strong, but I was actually thinking Myles. It means soldier. So how about it, Myles Scott."

"Okay, but what about a middle name? Lucas maybe?"

"Or Eugene? He could have my middle name."

"Our boy, Myles Eugene Scott."

We sat next to his incubator for hours not talking. I just looked at him and watched as his chest rose and fell. I looked at his little body and wondered how he could survive. The doctors told us that if he survived, he could face lifetime struggles with things such as seizures, cerebral palsy and developmental delays. I prayed for his well being and I knew everyone was praying for him too. Maia, Karen and Matt finished painting the babies room and got everything put together for the day he would come home. Days went by and Myles remained strong. He seemed to be improving, but everyday was still touch and go, still a blessing. Lucas and I spent all our time together and I was glad to have him back. Myles had made us a family again. Two weeks after his birth, Maia and Lola came to visit. That day we took many pictures. Then one of the NICU nurses took a picture of the five of us together. Myles was allowed out of the incubator for just a few minutes. That is the only picture we have of the five of us together. Just three days later, Myles took a turn for the worse. It seemed that his lungs and heart were getting weaker. He was losing strength and the doctor's didn't think he would make it much longer. Just three weeks and five days after his birth, Myles Eugene Scott, our baby boy had died.