Of course, Neal's working today.
Of course, Emma can't remember where.
Of course, she has to give Judy her key and beg her to go back to the apartment and find where he has the address written down and try to find him and tell him.
Of course this means that she's completely alone in the cold, sterile emergency room when the nurses come in to poke and prod her.
She's alone when they tell her that she is indeed in premature labor.
She's at 33 weeks. All she can do is shake her head back and forth and try not to moan. They give her drugs to try and stop the contractions. They can't do anything for the stream running through her head; it's too soon, it can't happen yet, I was supposed to have more time, HE was supposed to have more time, I can't do this, I can't do any of this, why did I ever think I could, why did I ever think I was good enough.
She's so alone that she unloads on the poor nurse who takes her blood in the ER, who thankfully does not seem perturbed by the strange girl gripping her arms desperately while trying not to sob.
"I made this happen didn't I? There was something I did wrong."
The nurse smiles softly.
"Honey, babies do what they want. You should probably learn that lesson now. You're young, but not enough to seriously increase your risk. You're history says you don't do drugs, you got regular prenatal care, and don't have any other health problems. You're practically skin and bones now, and were likely very underweight before your pregnancy. Nothing you could do about that. Not much you can do about work stress either."
Emma flops her head back "I'm a grocery store cashier".
The nurse smiles "We all start at the bottom. It sounds to me like you have done everything you could to make sure your child was born healthy. Don't let forces beyond your control make you feel guilty. All you can do is be here for him now".
(Emma finds out years later there's an increased risk of preterm labor in low income women who are on their feet a lot, and the nurse likely knew this. She thanks the woman who's name she doesn't even remember for not telling, and just telling her what she needed to hear)
She's up on the maternity ward by the time Neal gets to the hospital. She has to tell the nurse to let him in, and by the time she does, all she can do is cling to him and try not to cry.
Neal's got his arms tangled up underneath her, twining with the wires she's hooked up to.
"How are you feeling?"
Emma tries to snort in derision but can't. She's sweating so hard that her hospital gown and hair are soaked. Every contraction that comes makes her feel like she doesn't have legs anymore. And despite Neal's presence, she's terrified.
"It's too early. They put me on drugs to slow things down and other drugs to help him grow a little more, but they say it's going to be a day or two at most."
"God...fuck we were supposed to have more time to figure this out"
Emma can feel her eyes welling up as she tries to force a smile.
"I don't know if I can do this".
Neal squeezes her hand. "I'm glad I'm not the only one. But I'm not going anywhere".
Once the doctor comes in and sticks the big needle in her back that makes everything below her waist numb, Emma's world kind of seems outside of her.
She remembers Neal gripping her hand and trying to soothe her. The doctors and nurses- she can't even tell them apart right now- shifting and talking in front of her. She remembers that she could still feel what was happening even though there wasn't any pain.
She's really glad for that. She's not sure she could have stopped herself from panicking if she had been in pain like she'd heard about.
The cloud ends when she sees one of the nurses hold Henry up, all red and sticky.
It ends because he's stone silent.
All the panic she thought she swallowed boils right back up again. She tries to sit up, but she's still numb. She starts to open her mouth, when the same nurse flicks the bottom of Henry's feet a few times and another sticks a kind of tube in his nose and mouth and after a moment that seems like a millennium he finally starts to cry.
Emma doesn't manage to swallow this sob.
One nurse cleans him off and wraps him in a blanket and finally hands him to Emma.
He's so small. Tiny, pink, fragile. Tiny little fingers and toes, even a little tuft of brown hair. She's overwhelmed, being overcome by a tenderness she's never felt before. It's like warmth is exploding out of every part of her body.
She barely gets to hold him for a moment before one of the nurses has to take him away and her heart seizes.
"We need to get him into NICU as soon as we can. There's just a few more things to check up on with you and then you can go with him."
Neal's hovering off to the side "do you want me to...?"
Emma bites her lip and nods "Go with him".
The next fifteen minutes are a blur of, no you don't need stitches (thank GOD), the epidural should wear off in an hour or two (not soon enough) and can you sign these papers (Henry's birth certificate gives her pause but she'll talk to Neal about that later) here we can take you over in this wheelchair.
Emma slumps down in the chair. She wants normal back and she's not even sure what this is or was or is going to be.
Neal's sitting beside the incubator when the nurse wheels her in. Henry's hooked up to a couple of beeping monitors. There are holes in the sides bigger than his whole head. He looks even smaller inside than he did in her arms. The doctor is checking something on a clipboard, but perks up when she comes in.
"Mom's here, good!"
"Mom" sounds bizarre. Emma's not sure if it will ever stop.
The doctor is a strangely perky man with a short beard and glasses. He looks more like a high school science teacher, complete with brightly colored tie, than a doctor.
"As I was saying, Henry is at this point perfectly healthy. Babies born at his age do very well almost all of the time. We need to keep him at least a little while, because the biggest problem will be making sure he grows and gains weight as he should be, keeping an eye out for any potential problems, and making sure he doesn't try to act his age and forget to do things he needs to, like keep warm, or breathe."
He chuckles. Emma didn't think it was very funny.
"It's about time for his first feeding. I supposed I should probably ask before I go into the breastfeeding lecture whether or not you have considered the options?"
"Yes" Emma says, and she hates that she's blushing a little, "It seemed like the best thing I could do, and it's free to boot, so".
"Well, Mary here is our lactation consultant. Infants at this stage can breastfeed, but often need help latch and sometimes have trouble with coordinating swallowing and breathing, so she'll be here to help and answer any questions."
It takes something like forty minutes, but Mary finally gets Henry to take one of Emma's nipples without losing his grip, and then
"Oh god that is officially the weirdest thing I have ever felt."
It is oddly peaceful though. Once Mary is satisfied that Henry isn't choking, she leaves. Emma sits quietly for a while before telling Neal,
"You should go back to the apartment. Clean up a little. Set up the crib everything. It's not like we had time to..."
She trails off, staring at Henry again. He's going to be fine. He's going to come home with them. He's going to be in their apartment all the time. None of it seems real.
Later, the nurses come through and check each of the babies on shift change, and Emma can hardly tear herself away from watching the incubator.
She hears one of them mutter later, "Can someone tell Welfare Princess Barbie that we need room to work".
Emma snaps. It's been far too long since she's been properly angry.
Her voice is strangely even when she approaches and lets out with
"What the fuck did you just call me?"
Emma's small, and she still can't stand well even though the epidural has worn off. But the fire fueling through her every cell must be apparent, because the nurse (and oh god she barely looks older than her) visibly recoils.
"Look, lady, I don't know you, and you don't know me. How about, we just go about our business and save me the fucking judgment. You have no idea what I've gone through to get here, no idea how precious this is to me, and no idea how hard I will fight to keep it".
It feels good honestly. Apparently living the straight life has left Emma with some stuff pent up.
She sits by the incubator a while longer. Henry's sleeping now, his first nap.
She wonders what babies dream about.
There's a couple of small holes that she can reach through and touch him. The doctor had said to avoid overstimulating him when he was resting, as premature babies could be very fussy, but she can't help it.
She reaches in just one hand, lets two fingers rest upon his hand, the one with the plastic tube sticking out of it.
"I'm sorry kid. Sorry that you had to come out so fast and so small. Sorry you came into the world with barely adult parents wearing thrift store clothes living in a tiny apartment. We can't afford to buy your stuff new, but we'll still try to get you the best we can. I'm sorry I'm so angry sometimes. I'm sorry your dad doesn't seem to exist. We're trying, we're trying as hard as we can. We love you. I just hope you know."
She takes another deep breath before continuing.
"People are going to think less of you your whole life. They think they'll know you just based on stupid, superficial things. You can't take any of it to heart. You have to challenge them, hit back, show them that you know who you are."
Before Emma knows it, the clock says 9 PM and one of the nurses comes to tell her visiting hours are over and she should go back to her room and try to get some rest.
It's hard. She had to drag herself away. Has to tell herself that he won't disappear as soon as she's gone.
The hospital bed is hard, and Emma's still sore and uncomfortable from birth, but after some tossing, she manages to drift off. The nurse comes in to check on her, and it takes longer for her to drift off the second time.
She's not dreaming anything unusual, just a forest of some kind, but she still starts awake when Neal comes back from the apartment.
"Hey, I didn't want to wake you" he says as he tosses a backpack on the chair next to her bed. His voice is soft, thick.
Emma glances at her watch, it's barely eleven.
Neal slips off his shoes and slides into the narrow bed behind her, throwing an arm over her waist.
"You'll probably get in trouble if the nurses find you".
"Has trouble ever bothered us before?"
It is true.
They lay there quietly for a while, breathing evenly but not sleeping.
And then suddenly, everything seems perfectly clear to Emma.
She rolls over, and faces him. Their noses are so close that she can feel him breathing.
"Marry me" she whispers, eyes still shut.
He doesn't say anything at first, just looks at her.
Emma opens her eyes, and fixes him with a deadly serious face.
"Marry me. We have a home, we have a child, our lives are starting to resemble something normal. Marry me, lets make it official, and you can start to exist. You're name will be written down. I'm a US citizen, they won't be able to do anything to you if they find out..."
She's babbling, she knows it, but she can't stop.
And as she goes on, Neal inches closer to her and when his lips are a hairs breaths away from hers, whispers
"I love you"
Emma closes the gap. It's a brief kiss, but one of the sweetest.
"Is that a yes?"
He laughs "Yes Emma, I'll marry you".
"Good".
He's actually pouting.
"...you wanted to ask me didn't you"
He pouts some more "...yes"
"If I had waited for you to do that, we'd be ninety by then".
Then they're kissing again, and Emma has to remember they're technically in public and anyone could walk in and her hands have to stay in appropriate places.
She grasps his hands so she can get a word or two out.
"I filled out Henry's birth certificate earlier. I put him down as Henry Cassidy Swan."
By the time the nurses come to check on her again, they're both asleep again.