"The delivery went well. Your wife is in stable condition. There should be no issues."
James stared at the obstetrician who had basically pulled him out of the room.
Through the window, his wife, Emma, held their newborn son.
The baby was tiny and frail.
His skin had a blueish tone, and appeared shiny.
Every once in a while, the baby would gasp for air, and his mother would hold him closer.
"Unfortunately, the baby was born too early."
"Too early? We know that but... I mean there he is." James pointed at his son, around whom Emma's arms were wrapped tightly.
"As my colleagues have told you, it is rare for babies born this early to survive."
"What? But... He..."
"I'm sorry, Mister James."
"You're sorry...? You mean that he's..."
Some nuance is needed and is part of the next chapter.
The choice isn't an easy one, and my intent is, in no shape or form, to criticize.