She breathes a sigh of relief as they place the brand new baby boy on her chest. He is two weeks past his due date, with the fat rolls to prove it. He is gorgeous, and pink. His slimy head is covered in dark hair. Lorelai is drenched in sweat after nine hours of labor. Finally after all of this time they have met the fruits of their labor. The baby cries like a drunken sailor who has missed his ship in port. Lorelai stares at the beautiful, plump baby boy.
"Liam, we have been waiting on your for so long," she grins. She feels a brief sense of relief.
Luke stares at her, and then shifts his glance to his son. Not once has she mentioned his name before this moment. They lift the baby off her chest. After some assessment, and bathing he is quickly returned to his mother. After the hubbub is over Luke, and Lorelai relish the time alone with their brand new baby boy.
She stares at the ten pound newborn boy who rests in her arms. He stares up at her. His cheeks are chubby. She has already counted his fingers, and his toes. She has scoured every inch of him. She presses her lips to his forehead.
"He's perfect," she insists as she offers him to his dad.
He takes a seat on the edge of the bed. He holds the baby between them. He smiles widely.
"How long have you had a name picked out?"
"Not until I saw him," she responds.
"There are a lot of people in the waiting room. Don't you think we should tell them that he finally made his fashionably late entrance?"
"Yes, but there are so many of them. I just want Rory."
"Okay."
He vacates his seat, and exits the room. She is overwhelmed by joy. The nagging feeling that something isn't right doesn't is not totally mollified by the newborn baby in her arms.
3 AM
She rolls over, and looks at the clock. She wakes up the same time every single night, despite the fact that her now ten week old son has been sleeping through the night for weeks. She flips on the lamp, and crosses the room to his crib. Much to Luke's dismay she has insisted on keeping the baby in their room. She pads across the room, stopping in front of the crib. Nestled in a firetruck sleeper is their sweet baby boy. She feels her anxiety rise, despite the fact that he sleeps soundly every single night.
Maybe a little too soundly, she tells herself. She lifts the baby out of the crib. She situates him in her arms. The second his cheek touches her arm she can tell something is wrong. He opens his eyes, and begins to wail. He is burning up. She carries him over to the bed, and quickly removes his pajamas. She places him over her shoulder, and begins to pat him. By this point Luke is awake. He rubs his eyes, and tries to discern what is going on.
"Lorelai, what's wrong?"
"I need you to go downstairs and get his thermometer."
"Okay," he agrees.
Within sixty seconds Luke has returned with the baby thermometer. Lorelai waits nervously, as the thermometer reads. Finally it beeps. She checks it twice.
"That is too high. We're going to the ER."
"I don't understand. He was fine at eleven o'clock," Luke adds.
They wait in triage for over an hour. Lorelai does everything to console the baby, but nothing works. Eventually they are called back into one of the exam rooms. It is another forty minutes before the doctor arrives. By the time he enters the room Liam has finally fallen asleep.
The next hour is a whirlwind. Neither Luke, nor Lorelai can get any medical personnel to tell them what is going on. They go from one imaging area to the next. They watch in horror as someone sticks a needle in the baby's spine. Eventually the doctor returns to the room with the med-flight crew.
"What is going on here? Can you please tell us what is going on? You have taken a dozen different images of him. He is ten weeks old."
"Miss Gilmore we are going to transfer Liam to a hospital with a neonatal intensive care unit."
"Why?" Luke queries.
"The tests that we did concluded that Liam has meningitis. We have to start some very aggressive treatment very quickly."
Lorelai feels as if her whole world has been turned upside down in a single second. Her heart drops. The next thing she knows they are being ushered into a helicopter, with their son in an incubator. The med-flight personnel stops them.
"Only one of you can go," he tells them.
By this point tears are streaming down her face. Luke speaks up, "She should go."
They nod, and usher her into the plane.
Three days later she lies in her bed, unwilling to get up. She hears voices, and footsteps, but she doesn't budge. Someone pulls back the covers, and climbs in next to her.
"Mom," Rory interrupts.
"Go away."
"You have to come downstairs. It is time to go."
"I'm not coming."
"You have to come. Everyone is here. You need to get dressed."
"Rory I can't do this. I am not getting out of this bed. I am not going to drive across town so that I can watch more of my worst nightmare unfold before my eyes."
"I know this is hard…"
Lorelai cuts her off, "You have absolutely no idea what this feels like."
"You're right. I don't. I have no idea what it is like to have to watch your child be buried. You can't just lie here in denial. It doesn't get you anywhere."
"Please, just go," Lorelai begs.
Rory walks away. Lorelai stays in bed. Rory exits the room, and finds Luke waiting in the hallway. He looks at her expectantly. Rory shakes her head.
"She's not coming."