My son was born weighing just 2 pounds, 7 ounces.<\/p>\n
For thirty-nine days, I lived in a plastic chair beside an incubator, watching a tiny chest rise and fall beneath a tangle of wires.<\/p>\n
His name was Noah.<\/p>\n
And the woman who helped keep him alive was a night-shift nurse named Angela.<\/p>\n
She sang to him when I was too exhausted to speak.<\/p>\n
She touched his tiny hand through the incubator opening when I was afraid to.<\/p>\n
She whispered, \u201cCome on, little fighter,\u201d whenever his oxygen numbers dropped.<\/p>\n
I never forgot her.<\/p>\n
So twelve years later, when I recognized Angela standing across the room at my son\u2019s school fundraiser, I immediately smiled.<\/p>\n
\u201cAngela?\u201d<\/p>\n
She turned.<\/p>\n
The color drained from her face.<\/p>\n
For a second, she simply stared at me.<\/p>\n
Then she whispered something I almost couldn’t hear.<\/p>\n
\u201cI hoped you\u2019d never remember me.\u201d<\/p>\n
I laughed nervously.<\/p>\n
\u201cOf course I remember you. You saved my son’s life.\u201d<\/p>\n
Her eyes filled with tears.<\/p>\n
She looked around the crowded gymnasium before taking my arm.<\/p>\n
\u201cPlease,\u201d she said quietly. \u201cWe need to talk somewhere private.\u201d<\/p>\n
We stepped into an empty hallway.<\/p>\n
Angela closed the door behind us.<\/p>\n
Then she took a shaky breath.<\/p>\n
\u201cI wasn’t assigned to your son by chance.\u201d<\/p>\n
I stared at her.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat do you mean?\u201d<\/p>\n
She wiped her eyes.<\/p>\n
\u201cI filed a report the night he was born.\u201d<\/p>\n
My heart began pounding.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat kind of report?\u201d<\/p>\n
She looked directly at me.<\/p>\n
\u201cThe doctor who delivered your son had already been investigated twice for changing medical records.\u201d<\/p>\n
I felt the hallway tilt beneath me.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat?\u201d<\/p>\n
Angela continued.<\/p>\n
\u201cYour son wasn’t supposed to survive that night.\u201d<\/p>\n
I couldn’t speak.<\/p>\n
She reached into her purse and pulled out a small, worn envelope.<\/p>\n
\u201cI kept this for twelve years.\u201d<\/p>\n
She handed it to me.<\/p>\n
My hands were trembling.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat is it?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cCopies of the records I was afraid the hospital would destroy.\u201d<\/p>\n
I looked down at the envelope.<\/p>\n
And suddenly, the memory of Noah’s birth came rushing back.<\/p>\n
The flashing lights.<\/p>\n
The emergency delivery.<\/p>\n
The doctors shouting.<\/p>\n
The nurse telling me not to panic.<\/p>\n
The words:<\/p>\n
\u201cHe’s extremely premature.\u201d<\/p>\n
At the time, I’d thought the worst thing that could happen was losing my baby.<\/p>\n
I had never imagined someone might have made a decision that put him in danger.<\/p>\n
Angela’s voice broke through my thoughts.<\/p>\n
\u201cYour son’s birth was the beginning of something much bigger.\u201d<\/p>\n
Twelve years earlier, I had been thirty-one years old and pregnant with my first child.<\/p>\n
The pregnancy had been difficult, but nothing prepared me for the night my water broke.<\/p>\n
I was only thirty-one weeks along.<\/p>\n
My husband, Mark, drove me to the hospital while I cried the entire way.<\/p>\n
I remember gripping his hand.<\/p>\n
\u201cIt’s too early.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI know.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cSomething’s wrong.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWe’re going to get through this.\u201d<\/p>\n
But neither of us knew what was waiting for us.<\/p>\n
Noah was delivered less than an hour after we arrived.<\/p>\n
He weighed two pounds, seven ounces.<\/p>\n
I saw him for perhaps three seconds.<\/p>\n
He was impossibly small.<\/p>\n
His arms were thinner than my wrist.<\/p>\n
His eyes were closed.<\/p>\n
A team of doctors immediately surrounded him.<\/p>\n
Someone said, \u201cWe need respiratory support.\u201d<\/p>\n
Someone else said, \u201cGet him to NICU.\u201d<\/p>\n
Then he disappeared.<\/p>\n
For the next thirty-nine days, the NICU became my entire world.<\/p>\n
I slept in chairs.<\/p>\n
I forgot to eat.<\/p>\n
I learned the meanings of numbers I had never cared about before.<\/p>\n
Oxygen saturation.<\/p>\n
Respiratory rate.<\/p>\n
Heart rate.<\/p>\n
Blood pressure.<\/p>\n
Every beep terrified me.<\/p>\n
And every night, when the hospital became quiet, Angela appeared.<\/p>\n
She wasn’t Noah’s primary nurse.<\/p>\n
At least, that’s what I believed.<\/p>\n
She worked nights and often had several babies under her care.<\/p>\n
Yet somehow, she always found time to check on him.<\/p>\n
One night, I woke from a chair and saw her standing beside his incubator.<\/p>\n
She was singing softly.<\/p>\n
I couldn’t understand the words.<\/p>\n
I whispered, \u201cWhat are you singing?\u201d<\/p>\n
She smiled.<\/p>\n
\u201cAn old song my mother used to sing.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhy?\u201d<\/p>\n
Angela looked at Noah.<\/p>\n
\u201cBecause sometimes babies need to hear a voice that isn’t afraid.\u201d<\/p>\n
That sentence stayed with me.<\/p>\n
On the thirty-ninth day, Noah finally came home.<\/p>\n
I hugged Angela before we left.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou’re part of his story,\u201d I told her.<\/p>\n
She smiled.<\/p>\n
\u201cI think he’ll be okay.\u201d<\/p>\n
Then she looked at me strangely.<\/p>\n
As if she wanted to say something else.<\/p>\n
But she didn’t.<\/p>\n
I assumed we’d never see each other again.<\/p>\n
I was wrong.<\/p>\n
Now, twelve years later, I was standing in a school hallway while Angela handed me a twelve-year-old secret.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat happened that night?\u201d I asked.<\/p>\n
Angela sat down.<\/p>\n
\u201cThe doctor who delivered Noah was Dr. Robert Keller.\u201d<\/p>\n
I remembered the name.<\/p>\n
\u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHe wasn’t supposed to be working that night.\u201d<\/p>\n
I frowned.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHe had been temporarily removed from high-risk deliveries after a complaint.\u201d<\/p>\n
My stomach tightened.<\/p>\n
\u201cThen why was he there?\u201d<\/p>\n
Angela shook her head.<\/p>\n
\u201cThat was the question I couldn’t answer.\u201d<\/p>\n
She opened the envelope.<\/p>\n
Inside were photocopies of medical records.<\/p>\n
Some were faded.<\/p>\n
Some had handwritten notes.<\/p>\n
One page had several sections blacked out.<\/p>\n
\u201cThis is Noah’s original delivery record,\u201d she said.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat does it show?\u201d<\/p>\n
Angela pointed.<\/p>\n
\u201cThe first record says Noah was delivered at 2:14 a.m.\u201d<\/p>\n
I nodded.<\/p>\n
\u201cThat sounds right.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cBut the official record was changed to 2:27.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhy?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cBecause there was a thirteen-minute gap.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat happened during those thirteen minutes?\u201d<\/p>\n
Angela looked at me.<\/p>\n
\u201cThat’s what I reported.\u201d<\/p>\n
She explained that Noah had been delivered in serious distress.<\/p>\n
The medical team should have immediately begun a specific sequence of emergency interventions.<\/p>\n
Instead, according to Angela, Dr. Keller delayed one of the critical steps.<\/p>\n
Not for seconds.<\/p>\n
For several minutes.<\/p>\n
And during those minutes, Noah’s oxygen levels dangerously dropped.<\/p>\n
Angela had been assigned to another infant nearby.<\/p>\n
She noticed the monitors.<\/p>\n
Something didn’t look right.<\/p>\n
She stepped over to Noah’s station.<\/p>\n
And she realized the documentation didn’t match what she was seeing.<\/p>\n
\u201cThe doctor told me everything was under control,\u201d she said.<\/p>\n
\u201cBut it wasn’t.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNo.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat did you do?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI called the NICU attending.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAnd?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHe came immediately.\u201d<\/p>\n
According to Angela, another doctor took over.<\/p>\n
Noah stabilized.<\/p>\n
But Angela noticed something else.<\/p>\n
The original treatment time had been written down.<\/p>\n
Then crossed out.<\/p>\n
A new time had been entered.<\/p>\n
Angela confronted Dr. Keller.<\/p>\n
He told her she had misunderstood.<\/p>\n
She didn’t believe him.<\/p>\n
So she filed an internal incident report.<\/p>\n
\u201cDid anyone investigate?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAnd?\u201d<\/p>\n
She gave a bitter smile.<\/p>\n
\u201cThey said there wasn’t enough evidence.\u201d<\/p>\n
I stared at the papers.<\/p>\n
\u201cThen why did you stay with Noah?\u201d<\/p>\n
Angela looked at me.<\/p>\n
\u201cBecause after I filed the report, I was afraid someone would retaliate.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAgainst you?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cMaybe.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAgainst Noah?\u201d<\/p>\n
She nodded.<\/p>\n
\u201cI didn’t know.\u201d<\/p>\n
For twelve years, I had believed Angela stayed with my son because she was simply an extraordinary nurse.<\/p>\n
Now I realized there was another reason.<\/p>\n
She was watching.<\/p>\n
She was making sure nobody changed anything else.<\/p>\n
\u201cShe knew I was keeping copies,\u201d Angela said.<\/p>\n
\u201cWho?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThe hospital administrator.\u201d<\/p>\n
I looked up.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhy would the administrator care about one premature baby?\u201d<\/p>\n
Angela hesitated.<\/p>\n
\u201cBecause Noah wasn’t the only one.\u201d<\/p>\n
She opened another folder.<\/p>\n
Inside were copies of reports involving other premature infants.<\/p>\n
Different families.<\/p>\n
Different dates.<\/p>\n
But the same doctor.<\/p>\n
The same unusual record changes.<\/p>\n
The same unexplained treatment delays.<\/p>\n
And in several cases, medical procedures had been billed differently from what the original notes described.<\/p>\n
My hands went cold.<\/p>\n
\u201cThis wasn’t just a doctor making mistakes.\u201d<\/p>\n
Angela shook her head.<\/p>\n
\u201cNo.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat was it?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI think there was a system.\u201d<\/p>\n
Over the next several weeks, I began investigating.<\/p>\n
Not because I wanted revenge.<\/p>\n
Because I needed to know what had happened to my son.<\/p>\n
Angela connected me with another former nurse.<\/p>\n
Then another.<\/p>\n
Eventually, we learned that several employees had raised concerns over a period of years.<\/p>\n
Some had left the hospital.<\/p>\n
Some had been transferred.<\/p>\n
Some had simply stopped talking.<\/p>\n
The pattern was disturbing.<\/p>\n
Certain high-risk cases had been documented incorrectly.<\/p>\n
Some procedures had been recorded as having occurred earlier than they actually did.<\/p>\n
Insurance claims didn’t always match nursing notes.<\/p>\n
And in several cases, families had been told their babies had suffered complications that may have been preventable.<\/p>\n
Then we found something worse.<\/p>\n
A former hospital billing specialist had kept copies of internal emails.<\/p>\n
Those emails suggested administrators had pressured staff to make records \u201cconsistent\u201d before submitting claims.<\/p>\n
The language was deliberately vague.<\/p>\n
But the meaning was clear.<\/p>\n
Records were being changed.<\/p>\n
Angela’s original report was one of the few documents that had survived.<\/p>\n
And it contained a sentence that stopped me cold.<\/p>\n
\u201cInfant Noah Brooks experienced an unexplained delay in emergency intervention. I believe the medical record was altered afterward.\u201d<\/p><\/blockquote>\n
I read that sentence over and over.<\/p>\n
My son had almost died.<\/p>\n
And someone had tried to rewrite the story afterward.<\/p>\n
\nThe investigation eventually became official.<\/p>\n
A state medical board reviewed the records.<\/p>\n
Then federal investigators became involved because the allegations included potential insurance fraud.<\/p>\n
Dr. Keller denied everything.<\/p>\n
He said Angela was mistaken.<\/p>\n
He said the records had been corrected because of \u201cclerical inconsistencies.\u201d<\/p>\n
He said Noah’s condition had been extremely unstable and that nothing improper had happened.<\/p>\n
But then investigators found the original electronic timestamps.<\/p>\n
They showed exactly when certain orders had been entered.<\/p>\n
They found deleted messages.<\/p>\n
They found billing discrepancies.<\/p>\n
And they discovered that several patients had been affected.<\/p>\n
Dr. Keller eventually lost his medical license.<\/p>\n
Several administrators resigned.<\/p>\n
The hospital paid settlements to multiple families.<\/p>\n
But there was something I couldn’t understand.<\/p>\n
Why had Angela risked everything for my son?<\/p>\n
One evening, I asked her.<\/p>\n
We were sitting at my kitchen table.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou could have lost your job.\u201d<\/p>\n
She nodded.<\/p>\n
\u201cI almost did.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou could have walked away.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI almost did that too.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThen why didn’t you?\u201d<\/p>\n
Angela looked down at her hands.<\/p>\n
\u201cBecause I had a baby once.\u201d<\/p>\n
I waited.<\/p>\n
\u201cMy son was born premature.\u201d<\/p>\n
My heart sank.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat happened?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHe died.\u201d<\/p>\n
She took a slow breath.<\/p>\n
\u201cHe was twenty-eight weeks.\u201d<\/p>\n
I didn’t know what to say.<\/p>\n
\u201cI was twenty-six,\u201d she continued. \u201cI was terrified. I trusted the doctors completely.\u201d<\/p>\n
She stared out the window.<\/p>\n
\u201cOne doctor made a mistake.\u201d<\/p>\n
Her voice trembled.<\/p>\n
\u201cMy son didn’t survive.\u201d<\/p>\n
I reached across the table.<\/p>\n
Angela continued.<\/p>\n
\u201cI became a nurse because I couldn’t accept what happened.\u201d<\/p>\n
She wiped her eyes.<\/p>\n
\u201cI promised myself that if I ever saw another mother sitting beside an incubator, terrified and helpless, I would pay attention.\u201d<\/p>\n
She looked at me.<\/p>\n
\u201cSo when Noah was born, I recognized the signs.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou knew something was wrong.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAnd that’s why you stayed.\u201d<\/p>\n
She nodded.<\/p>\n
\u201cBut that’s not the whole reason.\u201d<\/p>\n
I frowned.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat else?\u201d<\/p>\n
Angela smiled sadly.<\/p>\n
\u201cBecause you were asleep.\u201d<\/p>\n
I looked confused.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou were exhausted. You hadn’t slept properly in days. One night you finally fell asleep in that chair.\u201d<\/p>\n
She laughed softly.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou were holding Noah’s blanket.\u201d<\/p>\n
I remembered.<\/p>\n
Vaguely.<\/p>\n
\u201cI stood beside him for almost an hour.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhy?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cBecause I wanted to make sure his numbers stayed stable.\u201d<\/p>\n
She paused.<\/p>\n
\u201cAnd because I wanted one mother in that room to wake up with good news.\u201d<\/p>\n
\nThe investigation lasted almost a year.<\/p>\n
During that time, Noah knew almost nothing about what had happened.<\/p>\n
He was twelve.<\/p>\n
To him, the NICU was just a story his parents told.<\/p>\n
He knew he’d been tiny.<\/p>\n
He knew he’d been sick.<\/p>\n
He knew a nurse named Angela had taken care of him.<\/p>\n
But he didn’t know how close he’d come to dying.<\/p>\n
I didn’t want to frighten him.<\/p>\n
Eventually, however, the truth became part of our family history.<\/p>\n
One Saturday morning, I told him Angela was coming over.<\/p>\n
When she arrived, Noah opened the door.<\/p>\n
He stared at her.<\/p>\n
Then his face lit up.<\/p>\n
\u201cAngela?\u201d<\/p>\n
She laughed.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou remember me?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cMom showed me pictures.\u201d<\/p>\n
He hugged her.<\/p>\n
She froze.<\/p>\n
Then she hugged him back.<\/p>\n
She cried into his shoulder.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou got so big.\u201d<\/p>\n
Noah smiled.<\/p>\n
\u201cI was always going to.\u201d<\/p>\n
Angela laughed through her tears.<\/p>\n
\u201cI know.\u201d<\/p>\n
He invited her inside.<\/p>\n
We sat around the kitchen table.<\/p>\n
Noah looked at her.<\/p>\n
\u201cDid you really sing to me?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhy?\u201d<\/p>\n
Angela glanced at me.<\/p>\n
\u201cBecause you were a fighter.\u201d<\/p>\n
Noah smiled.<\/p>\n
Then he asked the question neither of us expected.<\/p>\n
\u201cDid you save my life?\u201d<\/p>\n
Angela looked at him.<\/p>\n
\u201cI helped.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNo.\u201d<\/p>\n
He shook his head.<\/p>\n
\u201cMom says you saved me.\u201d<\/p>\n
Angela’s eyes filled with tears.<\/p>\n
She looked at me.<\/p>\n
I nodded.<\/p>\n
Finally she answered.<\/p>\n
\u201cI think you saved yourself.\u201d<\/p>\n
Noah smiled.<\/p>\n
\u201cThat’s a pretty good answer.\u201d<\/p>\n
\nYears passed.<\/p>\n
Noah grew into a healthy teenager.<\/p>\n
Then a young man.<\/p>\n
He became interested in medicine.<\/p>\n
When he was eighteen, he told us he wanted to become a doctor.<\/p>\n
I laughed.<\/p>\n
Angela cried.<\/p>\n
He eventually became a pediatrician.<\/p>\n
And when he entered medical school, he kept one thing in his room.<\/p>\n
A faded photograph from the NICU.<\/p>\n
It showed him inside the incubator.<\/p>\n
On the back, Angela had written:<\/p>\n
\u201cFor the little fighter who taught me never to stop asking questions.\u201d<\/strong><\/p>\n
Noah carried it with him through medical school.<\/p>\n
Years later, he gave a copy of that photograph to Angela.<\/p>\n
On the back, he wrote:<\/p>\n
\u201cFor the nurse who taught me that caring means paying attention.\u201d<\/strong><\/p>\n
Angela framed it.<\/p>\n
It hung beside a photograph of her own son.<\/p>\n
The two boys who never met.<\/p>\n
One who died too soon.<\/p>\n
One who survived.<\/p>\n
And somehow, their stories became connected.<\/p>\n
\nI used to think the most important moment of Noah’s life was the day he came home from the hospital.<\/p>\n
I was wrong.<\/p>\n
It was the night a nurse noticed something didn’t make sense.<\/p>\n
She could have looked away.<\/p>\n
She could have trusted the chart.<\/p>\n
She could have told herself it wasn’t her responsibility.<\/p>\n
Instead, she asked a question.<\/p>\n
Then another.<\/p>\n
And when nobody gave her a satisfactory answer, she documented what she saw.<\/p>\n
She protected a tiny baby who couldn’t speak for himself.<\/p>\n
Twelve years later, she finally told me why.<\/p>\n
Not because she wanted praise.<\/p>\n
Not because she wanted money.<\/p>\n
Not because she wanted to be called a hero.<\/p>\n
She did it because years earlier, someone had failed to protect her own baby.<\/p>\n
And she refused to let history repeat itself.<\/p>\n
At Noah’s medical school graduation, Angela sat in the front row.<\/p>\n
When his name was called, he walked across the stage.<\/p>\n
Then he turned toward the audience.<\/p>\n
His eyes found Angela.<\/p>\n
He smiled.<\/p>\n
After the ceremony, he walked directly to her.<\/p>\n
He hugged her and whispered something in her ear.<\/p>\n
I couldn’t hear him.<\/p>\n
Later, I asked what he had said.<\/p>\n
He smiled.<\/p>\n
\u201cI told her she was right.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAbout what?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThat babies need to hear a voice that isn’t afraid.\u201d<\/p>\n
I looked at Angela.<\/p>\n
She was crying.<\/p>\n
And I finally understood something.<\/p>\n
Some people enter your life for only a few hours.<\/p>\n
Some for a few years.<\/p>\n
And some leave fingerprints on your life so deep that twelve years later, one look across a crowded room can bring everything back.<\/p>\n
Angela had been there the night my son was born.<\/p>\n
She had been there when I was terrified.<\/p>\n
She had been there when nobody knew what would happen next.<\/p>\n
And twelve years later, she was still there.<\/p>\n
Not because she had been assigned to my son.<\/p>\n
But because she had chosen him.<\/p>\n
And sometimes, the people who save our lives don’t even realize how much of our future they are saving.<\/p>\n
They simply do the right thing when it matters.<\/p>\n
Angela did.<\/p>\n
And because she did, my son got to grow up.<\/p>\n
He got to laugh.<\/p>\n
He got to fall in love.<\/p>\n
He got to become a doctor.<\/p>\n
He got to save other children.<\/p>\n
And every time I watched him walk into a hospital wearing a white coat, I thought about that tiny two-pound-seven-ounce baby inside an incubator.<\/p>\n
And the nurse who stayed beside him through the night.<\/p>\n
The nurse who noticed something was wrong.<\/p>\n
The nurse who refused to look away.<\/p>\n
The nurse who saved my son.<\/p>\n
And finally, after twelve years, told me why.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
My son was born weighing just 2 pounds, 7 ounces. For thirty-nine days, I lived in a plastic chair beside an incubator, watching a tiny chest rise and fall beneath … <\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":84876,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[2],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-84875","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-best-best-story"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/discoverstory9.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/84875","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/discoverstory9.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/discoverstory9.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/discoverstory9.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/discoverstory9.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=84875"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/discoverstory9.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/84875\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":84908,"href":"https:\/\/discoverstory9.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/84875\/revisions\/84908"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/discoverstory9.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/84876"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/discoverstory9.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=84875"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/discoverstory9.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=84875"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/discoverstory9.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=84875"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}