Total pages in book: 49
Estimated words: 47103 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 236(@200wpm)___ 188(@250wpm)___ 157(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 47103 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 236(@200wpm)___ 188(@250wpm)___ 157(@300wpm)
I took the hint and hovered nearby, listening for clues amid the medical speak as I licked my lips nervously. “Is everything okay?”
“Everything is wonderful. Come here, Daddy. The baby is crowning and he or she has a fabulous head of hair,” the doctor gushed.
“Go on, Daddies. I’m here for Lena, and the chakra is set,” Kathy declared theatrically, motioning for us to join the doctor.
We obeyed. And…
Holy shit.
A head of thick, dark hair was clearly visible. Aaron was murmuring in Spanish, something like a prayer, maybe. I wrapped an arm around him as if that might anchor us in the midst of this completely and utterly awe-inspiring moment.
“Push, Lena,” Dr. Gwinn instructed. “That’s it. Now stop. I’m going to make sure we don’t get tangled in the cord…and here we go. All right, give me another push.”
The baby’s head eased through the channel, the doctor suctioned fluids, and barked another order to push. Lena keened, her face damp with sweat. Aaron clutched at my shirt on an inhale just as a soft cry broke the expectant air. And…there she was.
Our daughter.
A beautiful, pink, squawking wonder. Ten fingers, ten toes, kicking and flailing as the doctor held her up and handed her to a nearby nurse.
Aaron burrowed into my chest with a sob. “Oh, my God, Matty…she’s perfect. Chiquita bonita, mi amor.”
“She is.”
“Congratulations, Dads. Who’s going to cut the cord?” Dr. Gwinn asked.
“I…uh…we both will,” I stammered, stepping toward the infant lying on a bed of what looked like towels.
One nurse wiped the afterbirth from her skin and another clamped the umbilical cord and passed me a pair of sterile scissors. Aaron covered my hand, and together we severed the connection between Lena and our baby.
The nurse swaddled her loosely in a soft receiving blanket and pushed her into my arms.
Me.
My arms.
I swallowed hard, heart hammering helplessly in my chest as I stared at the raven-haired beauty in my arms. She had Aaron’s hair and his beautiful skin, and she had his lungs. I rocked gently and rubbed a pinky finger along her tiny fist. She opened her palm and gripped it, her cries receding as she gazed up at me.
I heard someone praise her strength and I smiled.
“Hi, there,” I whispered. “Welcome, sweet girl. It’s me…Daddy.”
seventeen
The day felt like Christmas as a kid back when I believed in Santa, toy-making elves, flying reindeer, and magic. I was enthralled with our daughter’s every little move and hopelessly enchanted by her beauty—her perfect tiny mouth, adorable button nose, and itty-bitty ears. I wouldn’t leave her side. I supervised her first bath, learned how to properly change a diaper, and took notes on how to make a bottle, how much to feed her, how to burp her, how to wrap her like a burrito.
We FaceTimed my parents, who cried and agreed she was absolutely perfect. They asked for her name, but there was a commotion in the room as Aaron’s parents arrived. I hung up with my folks, not willing to miss a single second of our new baby’s first moments on the planet while my in-laws took turns holding our daughter. They raved about how gorgeous she was and commented on her strong will. This girl did not adhere to due dates. She did things her own way.
Rosa, Aaron’s mom, was the first to point out that she looked just like Aaron. She said it in Spanish, but I understood just enough to catch her meaning.
“I agree,” I said. “She’s lucky.”
“La niña is lucky,” Rosa concurred in halting English. “Not because she is lovely and perfect to the eyes, though. No, she is lucky because she is loved. No questions. She has two papas who will give her the world.”
“She’s going to be so spoiled…in the best way possible,” Lena piped in from the hospital bed as she demolished a cup of cafeteria-style pudding.
She was relaxed and happy, albeit a little sore. We’d arranged to have our own room, but we didn’t want to abandon the person who’d literally helped make this dream possible. As soon as Lena’s mom returned from her lunch run and her brother and his husband arrived, we’d move.
“Do you want to hold her?” I asked out of the blue.
Lena went still, her gaze shifting from me to Aaron. “Really? I didn’t think you’d want me to.”
“You’ve been with her from the very beginning, Lena. If you’d like a moment with her, we’d totally understand. And if it’s easier not to, that’s fine too,” he replied, adjusting the baby’s pink-and-blue striped hospital-issue beanie.
Lena nodded, pushing the tray aside and wiping her hands clean. She held her arms open, smiling sweetly at the bundle I placed in her arms. “I guess this is good-bye, little friend. It’s been an amazing journey. I hope you have the best life and do so many wonderful things.”