Weeks passed in a blur of bed rest, daily heartbeat checks, and medication schedules. Emma made it to twelve weeks, then fourteen, then sixteen. Each milestone felt like a miracle.
But the isolation was crushing.
Emma's world had shrunk to the four walls of their bedroom, the view of the ocean through the window, and the endless hours of trying not to think about everything that could go wrong.
Alexander worked from the bedroom—laptop at the desk in the corner, phone calls conducted in hushed tones so as not to stress Emma. But she could see the strain on him, the weight of managing a company, a foundation, legal battles, and a high-risk pregnancy all at once.
At sixteen weeks, Dr. Martinez came for another in-person visit. The ultrasound showed the baby was growing appropriately, the heartbeat strong. But the placental placement remained concerning.
