They keep asking me how I feel and all I can think to wonder is how am I supposed to feel? I nearly lost my life, as did Abby, and my son still struggles for his. None of this should have happened, and all I can think of is how much I hate those responsible, and how if they weren't already dead I would kill them myself.
It's hard to keep these feelings to myself but, with everything else that's going on it doesn't matter what's going on in my head. I need to keep my focus on Joe, and Abby, and somewhere in there I have to concentrate on my patients, and I'm starting to wonder if I have enough room in my head to keep the hatred hidden away.
Standing in the NICU, seeing my son laying there, so fragile, his tiny body swallowed up by tubes and wires, it's not fair. If Steve and his friends had never come here none of this would have happened. If they had never escaped he'd still be growing safe in his mother's womb, protected from harm until it was his time to be born.
They forced this on him, forced this on all of us, and I worry about what his future holds with his having been born so early. I'm a doctor, I know the risks, and as frightened as I am of what all this could do to him I know I'll love him with all my heart no matter what.
How do I keep all of these fears from Abby though, how do I keep my anger at bay when all I want to do is scream at the top of my lungs or break something? I hate having no one to confide in, I hate having to be the strong one all of the time, but, what else can I do? Abby needs my strength more then ever and whatever I'm feeling has to feel worse to her. I promised her I would be there for her, and when she needed me most, where was I?
Even as I know that all of this was beyond my control, I can't help feeling like I've failed not just Abby, but my son as well. If I couldn't protect Joe before he was born, how can I be sure I'll be there when when he needs me in the future. Maybe that's my greatest fear, that I'll fail him as I failed Jasna and Marko. Maybe I've misplaced my hate all along, and instead of Steve and the others it's really my own actions that I'm holding responsible. Maybe one day I'll be able to put it to rest and forgive myself, but, for today, all I can do is hit my knees and pray that he'll make it one more day, because each day brings more hope that he'll live.
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