Please help Lindsay and our Baby

This is Lindsay, the love of my life. We got engaged in 2019, and had to postpone our wedding due to the Coronavirus pandemic, but it didn't bother us - the only thing that mattered to us was that we were in love. In the summer of 2020, while I was struggling to keep my small business from going bankrupt, Lindsay became pregnant. We had always known we wanted to have a baby and even though the timing wasn't perfect financially - our hopes of buying a home had collided with the reality of the pandemic - we still knew that love would carry us through. I worked to build up my business and save for our new family, and Lindsay set about making our tiny apartment into a home.
Two weeks ago, just before Lindsay's third trimester, her water broke. I was staying at an Air Bnb trying to finish a backlog of work so that I could be less stressed and more present with her - one of the only times I've spent the night away from her in the past year. I woke up to her calling me in the early morning to tell me that she was on her way to the hospital. I was devastated; I felt helpless, terrified, and guilty for not being there with her when it happened. I rushed to the hospital and held her hand - which was all that was within my power to do - as the doctors and nurses tried to determine if she had an infection, if she was going into labor, if they would have to perform an emergency c-section.
Miraculously, Lindsay was fine and she didn't go into labor. The baby was fine and healthy, but they told her that she would have to stay in the hospital (St. David's on 32nd) until she gave birth - which, with any luck, won't be for another 10 weeks at least. 
The idea that she would have to stay in the hospital, away from me, our home, and our little dog Quinn, for more than two months, was heartbreaking. I struggled to make time to go to the hospital and see her, as well as bring her things she needed to be comfortable and help her feel safe. Less than a week after she was admitted, I went to spend the night with her in her hospital room. We had a cute candle light dinner and watched a Netflix show about babies. I went to sleep on the plastic cushion that they provide for fathers.
The next thing I remember is her waking me up with a shout from the bathroom, telling me to call the nurse. She was bleeding profusely and shaking violently. I called the nurse and everything was a blur - they put her in a wheelchair and wheeled her to a delivery room. We didn't know what was happening; I didn't know if she was ok, if the baby was ok, if she was going to deliver. They told us that she seemed fine, then they hooked her up to an IV and a baby monitor and all we could do was wait. I stayed up all night by her bedside, numb, holding her hand as she tried to sleep. 
The next day I was still trying to process. I felt scared and sad; I could barely focus on the myriad tasks I still needed to accomplish that day and eventually had to lock myself in my office so that nobody would see me crying. Lindsay and our baby are the most important things that have ever existed to me in my life. 2020 threatened my business, my dreams, and my livelihood, but through it all Lindsay was my rock and I knew everything would be ok because we had each other. 
Now the only thing in the world that means more to me than life itself - my family - is in a terrifying and precarious situation. Our plans - we were supposed to get married in March, we had been planning for a natural home birth with our midwife, Lindsay's nesting - have all been thrown into chaos, and every day I struggle to keep it together so I can go to work and provide for our family. 
Lindsay's inability to work, the mounting expenses from our midwife, doula, and Lindsay's extended hospital stay are a cause of intense anxiety for me.
I woke up at 5 am this morning from a nightmare. In my dream I looked at my bank account and it had $32.28. I woke up soaked in sweat and grinding my teeth. A wise man once told me: you have not because you ask not. At this point, all I can do is ask the community for help. 
This fundraiser is to help Lindsay and our family. Nothing I can do can make it so that she can come home, but the money from this fundraiser will help to alleviate some of the costs we're encountering. I chose the number $5000 because it represents two months of our bare-minimum living expenses. Just having that financial cushion - the idea that we could survive more than two months without becoming broke and homeless - is a huge help. It would also allow me to take more time off of work so that I could go be with her in the hospital. My worst fear is that something will happen and I won't be able to be there; my second worst fear is that I'll lose everything and be unable to provide for her. 
I'm not a lazy person - I've worked hard for many years to build a business, but like many small businesses, we were heavily impacted by the pandemic. Now, in this very vulnerable time, I feel like everything that matters to me is slipping out of my hands. Please help me to be the best husband and father I can be for Lindsay and our Baby. Money doesn't always make things better but the lack of money can make things much much worse. Any support we can get from the community at this point is a blessing, and would mean the world to me, Lindsay, and the little one on the way. I seldom ask for anything for myself, but I'm not too proud to know when I need to ask for help for my family. 
Thank you,
So-Han Fan
Lindsay Harris
Baby Fan (as-yet-untitled)