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Beth and Raynal were getting used to the beeping. Every conversation, every interaction was met with an undercurrent of machine whirring and alarms that created a soundtrack for the next nine months of their lives.
In the corner of the room, an impossibly small baby boy lay swaddled in a blanket, a tangle of cords and wires enveloping his body. Nurses and doctors talked in hushed voices, gingerly placing stethoscopes on tiny chests and gently folding micro-sized diapers around waists the width of your palm.
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