A nurse stepped in gently.

“Mr.

Callahan, you’re approved to visit the newborn unit now, if you’d like to see your son.” I looked at Rosalie.

“Does he have a name yet?” “Not yet,” she said, shaking her head.

“I wanted to hold him first.”

The neonatal intensive care unit was hushed, all soft blue light and quiet monitors and careful nurses moving between the incubators.

When I reached the small plastic box near the back, my heart stopped.