Never Tear Us Apart - Chapter 25
Thank you for waiting for this update! I know it's been a while. Hope you enjoy it!
I leave the elevator and run through the hallway on the neurosurgery floor, my feet hitting the linoleum floor in fast, squeaky steps. My heart races inside my chest. The words from the message Amelia's resident sent me went through my head repeatedly as I ran. My heart misses a beat.
'Dr. Hunt, Dr. Shepherd, is asking for you. She fainted in OR but is resting well in the post-surgery room.'
I open the door of the room she is, lying on a stretcher in the post-op room. She has an IV hooked to her arm. My heart jumped at the sight of her.
"Hey," she smiles when she sees me coming in.
"What happened?" I ask, worried. I touch her hair, kissing her forehead. My left hand feels her bump. "Did you faint?"
"No," she shakes her head, sitting against the pillows. "Almost. I felt dizzy. The baby was kicking, and I couldn't breathe. I'm fine. Apparently, I am dehydrated too."
"Hmm," I sit on the stretcher's edge, rubbing her bump. "It scared the shit out of me."
"I'm sorry," she smiles, sorrowful. I shake my head. "I think I'll start my maternity leave."
When she says it, I raise my eyebrow looking at her. She has said she'll start her leave for the past couple of weeks, but still, she is doing long surgeries every day. Her department's fellows and surgeons could fully take on surgeries.
"You always say that, but I don't see any changes," I say, glaring at her. She chuckles.
"I know," Amelia sighs deeply with a sort of exhaustion that is not only physical. "I am serious now. I…need to slow down."
I hold her hand, rubbing her warm palm softly. Her skin is soft and delicate, her fingers small next to mine.
"I know you wanted to work until the baby comes, but you will be back to the OR before you know it," I say, trying to cheer her up. She lifts her eyes to mine, and I see their sadness. My heart sinks.
"We had so many plans," she bites her lip, deepening the dimple on her cheek. Her chin trembles. My heart follows. "We had talked about doing things, and we didn't, and it is gone. We can't anymore."
Yes, it is true. We talked about doing so many things when I decided to have a vasectomy. I know how she feels. The baby changed things.
"What things we can't do?" I ask low. Maybe she is thinking of the travels that we never did. Or the project with the veterans and amputees we discussed working together. "We will do them. It will only take a couple more months."
"We talked about doing a threesome, and we never did." She says, and I laugh. I tilt my head looking at her.
"We can still do it," I say, looking at her eyes. I can't believe this is what she is worried about.
"How? Look at me," She points to her huge pregnant bump. "And then I'm going to have a baby. I won't have sex anymore."
"Well, it may take a few more months, but we will have sex again," I say. She shrugs. "I hope we're going to have sex again."
"Maybe," she says, hopeless. I laugh, intertwining our fingers.
"Hey, look at me," Amelia lifts her eyes to me. "After the baby comes, I promise we will have a threesome when you feel ready for it. You choose with whom."
Amelia gives me a tired smile. I feel the baby moving inside her. I know for her, things will change differently than for me. Her body is going through all these hormonal and physical changes, and she will go through more demanding and painful changes with birth and once the baby is here. I can't put myself in her shoes.
"You're adorable," I tell her. She frowns, then chuckles. "I thought you'd say we can't travel anymore or go through the professional projects we've discussed, but you're worried about sex."
"Well, yes," she says as a matter of fact, and I laugh softly.
"I can guarantee you; we'll fuck again. With as many people as you want," she's the one laughing this time. "As long as you want me there too."
"Of course, I want you there, too." She squeezes my chin. I lean on her, kissing her lips softly. "I am afraid," she says low. I get even closer; plant a kiss on her nose softly.
"Afraid of what? Fucking other people?" I whisper, kissing her nose again.
"No," she grins. "Of giving birth to another child. How our lives are going to change. How it is already changing."
"Hmm," I nod slowly. "It is scary, yeah."
"Do you feel the same?" she asks, surprise in her eyes.
"Yeah," I shrug with a slight nod. "My fears might not be the same as yours, but sure."
"What are your fears?" she asks.
"Now, my fear is that you won't want to have sex anymore," I say, making her laugh loudly. I smile, watching her expressions change from tired and worried to a little more relaxed. I love the sounds of her laugh.
"I am serious," she says, squeezing my biceps.
"You know, going from one kid to two kids was hard, but going from zero to one was terrifying," I tell her, and she chuckles softly. "We've got this." I pat the top of her bump gently. "We know what to do. I will be home; you won't be alone."
"Yeah," she sighs, reflecting on my words as she looks me in the eyes.
I glance at the IV bag, which is almost done with her hydration. I look back at her; her eyes are closed; her head rests on the pillows.
"The IV drop is almost done," I rub the bump back and forth gently.
"Hmm… good cause I really need to pee," she says, making me chuckle.
"I think it was enough emotions for today. We should take you home, huh?"
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I was up before the sun came up. Couldn't really sleep. The back pain, the constant need to pee, this sensation of being at the finish line. According to my doctor, I still had a week and a half until my due date.
As we prepared the boys for school, I started having contractions. They were light and far apart. One contraction every 30 minutes. I've been through this before, so I knew the baby was coming tonight. But still, I had an entire day to go through this, and this time, I was going to take it easy.
"Just so you know, the baby might come tonight," I tell Owen as I pack the boys' lunch boxes. Owen turns his head fast at me, his eyes wide open. "I started having contractions an hour ago."
"What? Are you serious?" he comes to me, looking severe into my eyes. "How bad? Why didn't you say something?"
"Yes," I bite my lip. "They are small and far apart. I know my body, and it will take hours. But…we might have to go to the hospital this evening."
"Are you sure?" He asks, looking at me concerned. "We can go now and have you checked."
"It's fine," I inhale, looking at his eyes. "Take the kids to school. I'll call Carina and make her aware, and I will call Mere to let her know that the kids will be there tonight."
"Ok," Owen looks at me, a mix of concern and anxiety in his eyes. "I will call my mother…she can come here and stay with the kids." He gets his phone from his back pocket, but I interrupt him.
"No," I shake my head. "Take the kids to school. I don't want their day to be any different. I don't want them worried about it."
Owen stops and looks at me before letting out a long sigh. He puts his phone back in his pocket.
"I will drop the kids, and I will be back." He says, looking at me with worry in his eyes.
"Don't you have to go to the hospital?" I ask him.
"I won't leave you alone having contractions, Ames." He says as he grabs the car keys.
"The baby is not coming for another ten hours," I say stubbornly.
"I don't care. I'll be back in 30 minutes." He kisses my forehead.
After Owen left with the kids, I climbed the stairs back up to the boys' bedroom and started to pack a bag for them. I'd probably go to the hospital at night, and they'll need to sleep over at Meredith's. While I am making their beds, I feel another contraction. This one comes a little stronger than the last one and lasts about 30 seconds. I inhale and exhale slowly until it washes over.
'I think the baby is coming early! You can stay with the boys tonight, right?'
I send the text to Meredith, and less than a half minute later, she replies:
'Yes, of course. Are you in the hospital? What are you feeling?'
'I'm home. I don't want to stay in a hospital bed for over 20 hours again. I'm only coming when I am in active labor.'
'I'm going for a Whipple on OR2 now, but keep me updated. Yay for baby!'
I read her message and smiled. Yay. Yeah. I put my phone down and sighed. I am not prepared to have a baby today, but I guess it will happen. I finish packing the boys' overnight bags and walk to my bedroom. I text Carina to let her know I am having contractions and that we'll go to the hospital later today.
But things progress faster than I was expecting. Contractions start to come closer to each other and last longer. I lay down in bed and try to relax. Owen will be here any minute. I checked the time; it had been 40 minutes since he left to take the boys to school. He should've come back already.
Heavy rain is falling outside. The house is quiet and moody as the day is dark with heavy clouds. I hear the rain falling strong against our windows.
Another contraction comes less than 5 minutes after the last one, and I get up to walk a little. I stand in front of the big windows and watch the rain falling on the tree outside. The rain falls heavily, like a heavy curtain of water beads.
'Where are you?' I text Owen before I let panic arise.
'I'm stuck in traffic. Bad rain. Are you ok?'
'Yeah. Contractions are far apart. Water not broken. Be safe, ok?'
'I'll be home soon. Take it easy and rest.'
I decide to take a shower and try to relax a little. I know I am still hours and hours away from the 'push the baby out part. Contractions are still manageable and considerably far apart. I turn on the shower and let the water fall until it gets warm. Slowly, I remove my pajama pants and find a hair tie to tie up my hair. It's when I feel my feet wet, a warm liquid running down my legs.
"Oh no," I say, looking down at my wet feet. My water broke. My heart starts racing. Things are going way faster than I expected them to be. I turn the shower off. I hold myself to the bathroom sink when I feel another contraction coming. I know the drill now. "Breathe. Breathe." I tell myself.
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I run with the kids inside their school, holding the umbrella. The rain started just a couple minutes ago. Leo hugs me, and I kiss the top of his head.
"Here," I give him his lunch bag. "Have a good day, ok?"
"Bye, papa," he waves as he walks to his classroom.
I watch as he gets inside, saying hello to his friends. Scout tugs me by my right hand, and I look down.
We walk down the hallways to his classroom. Usually, he is the first to run away without even a kiss, but today, he stops in front of me.
"You come to pick me up?" he asks me.
"I think so," I say, looking at his eyes. I think about Amelia at home and how the baby is coming today. She asked me to not tell them. "If I can't come, Jessy or Aunt Mer will, ok?"
"I want you to come," he tells me. "It is raining. I don't like it."
"I know," I get down on my knee to look him in the eyes. "It will be ok. It is just rain. Water for the plants, for the birds." He nods at me, his big eyes looking into mine. "Now, give me a hug."
I pull him into my arms and hug him tight.
"I love you," I kiss his cheek.
"I love you too," he says, hugging me tightly.
"Going to have fun with Jonah? Caleb?" I pull his hair back as he nods.
"Yeah, I'm going to tell them about the book we read about the planets."
"Good idea," I smile at him.
I watch as he walks to his room and runs to his table, where his friends are already waiting. Tiny little gang. I smile, watching them for a while, thinking how fast time has passed.
I remember when he was born. That tiny pink little thing. And then, as one thought I hadn't had in a while, I remembered the day Allison was born. I sigh with the thought; useless to think about it. But the thought came anyway as I ran back to my car, the rain increasing as I reached it and quickly got inside. I can't drive like this, with the visibility so low. I decide to wait. The rain will stop, or at least slow the pace.
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I walk back and forth in my bedroom, breathing deeply and exhaling slowly, holding my phone in my hand. The rain is falling hard outside, and I don't want to tell Owen and make him worried as he drives. I need him to come home safe.
Meanwhile, I called Carina, and she told me to keep breathing and come to the hospital as soon as possible. But Owen is not here yet, and I feel deep inside me that there will not be enough time.
"Great," I say as I walk to the balcony door again. "You picked the right day, baby, huh?" I rub my belly, which feels low and hard. "Just wait until your father comes home, please?"
"Amelia?" I hear Owen's voice coming up the stairs.
"I'm here," I reply loudly from our bedroom. As he enters the bedroom, I hold myself against the back of our armchairs as another contraction starts. This one is stronger and lasts about a minute. I bend myself forward in pain.
Owen rushes to me, holding me. We stay quiet until the wave of pain is over. I look at his eyes, my chin trembling.
"This is going too fast," I say, exhaling slowly.
"I know. Let's get you to the hospital, ok?" He says calmly. I nod in agreement. I want to be with my doctor, with nurses that know what they are doing.
"I packed the kids' bags. We should take it and give it to Mer." I say to him. "My bag is here," I point to a small travel bag on the armchair.
"Here, your shoes," Owen helps me to sit down on our bed.
I sit down as he puts the shoes on my feet when another contraction comes. Stronger and longer. 30 seconds after the last one. "Ugh…" I cry in pain. "So. Painful."
"Ok. Let's go." He helps me to get up.
"The boys' bag," I repeat, and he nods.
"I will get them, don't worry. Let's just take you to the hospital. Ok?"
"How's the rain? The traffic?"
"Not great. That's why it is better if we go now."
Another wave of contractions comes, and with it, the urge to push. I breathe in and out heavily, holding myself in Owen's arms.
"We don't have time. We don't." I say, breathing in and out deeply.
"We can make it. Come on," He tries to pull me to make me walk, but I shake my head.
"The baby is coming. I can feel it…coming," I breathe in and out, trying to pace my heartbeats, feeling the pressure on my lower body.
"What do you mean 'coming'?" he asks, looking at me.
"Coming, Owen! As coming through my fucking vagina right now!" I scream at him, my heart beating so fast. "Oh God," I cry as another contraction hits me. "Argh! It fucking hurts!"
I say these words while I look into his scared blue eyes. Owen nods slowly and then kisses my forehead.
"Ok, let's get you in bed," he helps me to lay down. I close my eyes as he rushes to the bathroom to wash his hands. "I'm going to check on you, ok?" He says as he comes back quickly.
"You have done this, right?" I ask him as he sits in between my bended knees.
"Yes," he nods as he pulls my panties down and checks my dilation. "Ok. I think you're ten centimeters. This progressed..." he looks me in the eyes, and I nod, looking at his blue eyes. I want to see that he got me. I want to find some safety in them.
"Fast," I say, feeling another contraction coming. "Another…one…" I cry in pain, holding the bed sheets strong in my hands.
"Don't push, ok?" I hear him telling me as he runs into the bedroom, opening the closet to grab something. "I'm going to get towels and…."
"Derek's bag," I say, pointing to the closet. Owen looks at me, bringing towels to our bed. "Derek's bag. I have medical supplies. Scalpel. Stitches. Things." I say as my voice trembles, my body preparing for another painful contraction.
Owen quickly gets the bag and opens it. "This damn bag." He says, chuckling.
"You always mocked me about it, and now it will save us. I am always right." I joke, laughing, but it accelerates the next contraction, and I end up screaming in pain.
"You are always right," he comes next to me. "Ok. Just breathe. We've got a minute before the next one." he holds my arm and checks my pulse. As he looks at his watch, counting my heartbeats, I look at him. He looks calm. It makes me feel better.
"Owen," I say his name, and he moves his blue eyes to me. "Do you know how to do this?" I ask. I feel my chin trembling. He smiles that sweet head-tilted smile that makes my knees weak.
"Do you trust me?" he asks me. I nod in between tears. Yeah. I trust you. I say wordlessly as I look into his eyes.
"Yeah," I say, panting, another wave of contraction coming.
"Good. We both have done this before. I've got you. Next time a contraction comes, you push, ok?" He kisses my lips. "Let's get our baby out."
Owen helps me to get in position, and when the contraction comes, he tells me to push. And that's what I do. Again, and again and again. After what seemed to be an eternity, I felt the baby coming through me, opening me up, lacerating me from inside out. I scream in pain, fear, and tiredness. Then, it is done.
"I got her," I hear Owen saying. "I got her. Oh my God."
I close my eyes, feeling like all my strength has left my body. I feel tired. I feel my heart beating in my ears as it slowly calms down. My mouth is dry. My muscles aching.
"Her? Is she a girl?" I ask, not hearing any sound. "Is she ok?"
"Yeah, she is perfect," Owen says, emotion in his voice. "I'm clearing her airways." A second later, I hear the baby's cry. Loud and squeaky. "There you go." I listen to him sigh loudly. "Here…"
He places the baby on my chest. She looks so tiny.
"It's a girl," he says, looking at me. He has tears in his eyes, his hair messy, and his shirt covered in blood and other fluids. "She's perfect."
I look at the tiny baby in my hands. She has a head full of dark hair. I begin to laugh, and soon the tears come up, and I am laughing and crying as I look at this new person that just came out of me.
She opens her swollen eyes, and I just stare at her in awe. My heart beats loudly, my skin is covered in sweat, and this warm, tiny dirty baby is just fresh out of me against my skin.
"Her hair," I say, touching her dark hair, covered in blood and white vernix caseosa. "She's so much hair," I say, laughing as the tears come down my cheeks.
"I know," Owen laughs, too, kissing my head. "Let's finish this, ok? I'm calling an ambulance to take you both to the hospital." I look into his eyes and nod, suddenly realizing where we are. In our bedroom, in our bed. The rain falls heavily outside.
With Owen's help, we get the placenta out, and he clamps the umbilical cord. All the while, I am holding her, safe against my chest. She opens her little swollen eyes, looking at the world around her with profound curiosity. I hear Owen talking on the phone, and after he hangs up, he comes to me.
"The ambulance is coming. Carina is waiting for us," he tells me. He caresses my hair. "You were great. You are great. I'm so proud of you." He kisses my forehead. I touch his face, then press my lips on his lips.
"You were great," I whisper. He laughs softly. "Thank you."
"You did the hard work," he smiles, tears in his blue eyes. "You amaze me," He caresses my hair, then kisses my forehead again. "I love you so much."
"We did it," I say, resting my head against my pillow. The exhaustion slowly took me. "You delivered her. Our daughter."
"Surreal," he whispers, kissing me again. "We got a new baby."
"Yeah," I sigh, smiling, closing my eyes. The baby is wrapped in a warm blanket, a baby hat on her head. She sleeps in my arms. "I just want to sleep, honestly."
"The ambulance is coming. I'll only relax once you both are checked out." I feel the tension in his voice. I know he is worried. He wasn't just a doctor helping home labor. He is the husband. The baby daddy. And I know his heart and his mind.
"We're fine," I hold his hand, and he intertwines his fingers with mine. "We're fine," I reassure him again.
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A ray of light comes through the curtain's cracks. Life has been in a haze ever since yesterday. I watch as Amelia nurses the baby, resting against the pillows on our bed. It feels almost surreal, in this low light, the peace surrounding us. Or maybe it is my tired brain, unable to process all the fast changes. But it is not. It is real, and it is magic.
Our baby is here. The cutest baby girl I've ever seen.
I've delivered her, right here in this same bedroom, 24 hours before. I will never forget that moment, even if I live a million years. When I pulled her out, I helped her take her first breath. I take a deep breath; almost impossible to contain this emotion inside my chest as I watch Amelia nurse that tiny baby.
Amelia has been nothing but fantastic. She's the strongest person I've ever met. It was scary yesterday, and having a home birth was not in her plans. I know it wasn't easy for her, but she amazed me. Her strength and her trust in me made me feel more confident than I really was, honestly.
Luckily, both mom and the baby were great. After being checked by Carina and the pediatrician, we spent the night at the hospital. They were discharged to return home this morning. When we came home, our bedroom was clean, and the bed was changed. The fridge was stocked with food. A note was left by April saying she'd stop by later to see the baby.
"She's done…and out," Amelia says, bringing me back to reality.
"Let me," I carefully held the baby against my chest, holding her tenderly upright to burp. We've done this almost every two hours ever since we got home. I forgot how life with an infant newborn is. "You go back to sleep," I say to Amelia. "I'm going to change her diaper and rest her in the bassinet."
"What time is it?" She says, closing her robe.
I take a quick glance at my wristwatch. 10:17am. I don't think I slept for two interrupted hours last night.
"It is 10:17," I tell her. "Still early. You can take another nap before it is time for me to take boys," I say as I place the baby carefully on the changing table. When I open her onesie, she starts to cry. "I know, I know." I talk to the baby tenderly as I clean her tiny little tushy.
Amelia gets up and comes to us, holding the baby's tiny hands and kissing her little fingers.
"You don't need to get up," I tell her.
"I need to stretch my legs," she tells me as I put on the clean diaper on the baby. "I'm exhausted; my brain is a fog. I think I need a shower…I smell like old milk."
I chuckle, looking at Amelia. I finished changing the baby, but she continued to cry loudly. Knowing precisely what would calm her down, I passed her to Amelia.
"There she is, see? She's right here," I talk to the baby while I transfer her carefully from my hands to Amelia's arms. Amelia holds her like a pro, picking her up skillfully and cuddling the newborn against her chest. Immediately, like magic, the baby stops crying. I watch this scene in awe, Amelia kissing the side of the baby's head.
"More than 24 hours since she came into this world," I say, looking at her. "She changed a little bit, didn't she?"
"Did she?" Amelia asks, looking at the baby in her arms.
"Less swollen maybe," I touch the baby's cheek tenderly. "She's looking even more like you."
Amelia chuckles, lifting her eyes to me. Her face is also swollen, her eyes tired, and her nose and cheekbones are covered in freckles. She is so gorgeous that I can't resist; I lean on her and kiss her cheek softly.
"She is so far from what I was expecting," Amelia says with a sigh, followed by this smitten smile. "All this dark hair." She says as she touches the baby's head so very gently. She hasn't said it, but I know she is proud that the baby came out looking exactly like her.
"Yeah," I nod slowly. "I guess that explains all the heartburn."
Amelia laughs ironically, resting the baby in the bassinet.
"And the old wives' tales live on," she says as she begins to walk to the bathroom. "I desperately need a shower."
"Ok," I say, hanging by the baby's bassinet, watching as she sleeps. I watch her like I used to do with all my kids when they were babies, just watch their chests move up and down as they breathe. I am enchanted, though, by this little one.
I remember when I got Leo, and I was never tired of looking at him, discovering every little detail of his face, and how fast he changed as the months passed. He was the first baby I've ever cared for so intimately. Then Allison came along, and for almost a year, I was her dad…I did the same thing. Watched as she slept after crying for hours.
And then Scout…when he was born, it was like my broken heart was mended. Like Leo, Scout healed a part of me that I thought would never recover. When I saw him for the first time, I could see Amelia and me in him, and still today, I look at him and can't believe he is mine.
Now, with this one, she's a dream I never expected to have. It is like a bonus in happiness. I've always told Amelia I'd have any and every baby she'd like us to have. Biological or adopted. But this baby girl just came and took my breath away. Took our breath away. Unexpected in every sense.
I was walking into the hallway when I heard water filling the bathtub. I stop at the bathroom doorway, watching as Amelia sits inside the tub, the water embracing her body.
"Do you need help?" I ask, making her look at me.
"I'm fine," she smiles with a little shrug. "It feels good, though, to sit in this hot water. My body feels achy."
"Yeah," I say, looking at her, feeling so much love for her. She feels so small in that bathtub. The moody light comes from the bathroom window, announcing that the rain is still falling outside. I notice how she tries to hide her body from me, but I've seen more than I bargained for yesterday. There's nothing in her body that will ever disgust me. Her body is impressive in every sense.
I come closer and sit on the edge of the tub. Amelia moves her head around, trying to see what I am doing. I can see she's a bit uncomfortable, but she has no reason to be.
"Let me take care of you?" I ask, grabbing her sponge and her body soap. Her eyes change, looking at me in that same sweet way she always looks. A dimpled smile. Slowly, I brush her back with the sponge, brushing her shoulders. I notice the freckles she has on them. Slowly, I pour some water, washing over the soft foam from her skin. "Do you need help washing your hair?"
"Do you know how to wash my hair?" she asks, mocking me.
"Hey," I say, pretending offense. "I am a great shampoo boy."
"Ok," She rests her chin on her shoulder, eyeing me teasingly. "Shampoo Boy."
I laugh, grab her shampoo, and begin to wash her hair, softly massaging her scalp. I can't help but notice her skin covered in goosebumps. I feel the subtle sign of her scar from the tumor on the side of her head. Amelia stays silent as I wash the shampoo, pouring water over her head.
"Should we bring the boys this afternoon?" I ask her. "Maybe we can bring them tomorrow," I suggest, noticing that maybe she'd need another day to rest. I am sure the boys will be all over her once they come home.
"I want them to meet their sister," she tells me. "They know she's born. I don't want them to think I ditched them."
"They won't feel that way," I reassure her. I slowly apply the conditioner to her hair, noticing the little white hair she has among her dark locks. How her hair curls when it is wet.
"This feels nice," she says low. I smile, washing her hair and pouring water gently on her head. She has her eyes closed, this small gesture that she trusts me. She feels safe with me. I think of yesterday when she put her life and our baby's life in my hands. Literally, the fear I felt for a second, not allowing me to feel it any second more.
I lean on her, placing a kiss on her shoulder. Pressing my lips on her fresh skin. Amelia moves her head, maybe surprised by my gesture.
"I love you," I whisper, kissing her shoulder again and again. She holds my fingers, and her eyes meet mine in this quiet moment. She smiles at me, her blue eyes bringing me inside. There's nothing sexual about this moment, just pure love. I touch the bridge of her nose softly, brushing my thumb on the freckles of her cheekbones. "You're beautiful."
She smiles, shaking her head slightly out of shyness. I smile, even smitten.
"I love you, too." She says it back. The way she looks at me, I know it is true. "Thank you. I like when you take care of me."
"I like taking care of you," I nod, grinning as I put more soap on her sponge, brushing it along her collarbones, down to her arms. Amelia grabs the sponge from my hands.
"Maybe I can take it from here," she says, and I know she doesn't want me to touch her any further. I get it. I nod slowly, getting up.
"I'll prepare us some breakfast. Soon the little girl will wake up again." I say, walking to the door.
"She's not easy, is she?" Amelia laughs. "Thank God she's cute."
"Just like her mom!" I say, laughing. Amelia burst into laughter that I heard as I left our bedroom.
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Owen left to get the boys more than twenty minutes ago. He tried to convince me to let the boys with Meredith another night, but I didn't want them thinking that we didn't want them anymore just because the baby was here. It's been 20 minutes already, but I know that everything with the boys takes longer these days. Scout insists on tying his own shoes now that he is learning, and Leo always forgets to get something and runs back to pick it up.
I cleaned the baby, dressed her in a creamy onesie, and wrapped her on my bed on her cozy baby blanket. I figured it would be better if they didn't see me holding the baby when they came right through the door.
I hear their sounds downstairs, and they fast, quick steps run up the stairs. Then, they stop at the bedroom door, and I smile, seeing their little faces, my heart suddenly accelerating. I had not seen them for almost two days, and I missed them so much.
"Hii!" I say to them, opening my arms. Scout runs to me, giving me a tight hug. "I missed you, my sweet boy," I say as I kiss his hair.
Leo doesn't even hug me; he walks directly to our bed, where the baby is on. Owen is behind them, filming everything on his phone.
"The baby is here!" Leo says, jumping on our bed.
"Easy, Leo, be careful," Owen tells him. I sit on the edge of the bed just to be near the baby in case one of them gets too overly excited. These boys are sweet, but they aren't gentle with their touch.
"This is your baby sister," I tell them. Scout climbs the bed, and I look at him, curious about his reaction. He smiles; his eyes are curious about her. "She is very excited to meet you, the big brothers."
"But she is asleep," Scout says. "She got tired because she was very excited?" His question makes Owen and I laugh.
"Yeah, something like that," I chuckle, caressing his hair. "Babies sleep a lot when they are really tiny."
"She is tiny!" Leo says, lying next to the baby, touching her hand. "What's her name?"
I look up at Owen, sitting next to us in bed. We talked yesterday about it, but we still haven't decided on a name. "We still don't know her name," I tell him, looking at how enchanted he looks at her. It makes my heart swell.
"Can I hold her?" Leo asks us.
"Sure. Come sit down," I help him to sit. Slowly, I place the baby in his arms, my hand always holding her head. She opens her eyes with all the movement and noise, looking around seriously and suspiciously.
"She opened her eyes!" Leo exclaims. Scout comes closer, almost shoving his head on her face, that I must hold him before he falls on top of them. "She is looking at me!" Leo says excitedly. "Hi baby, I am Leo! Do you know me?!" he asks her as the baby continues to stare at him. "Do you think she knows me?"
"I think she recognizes your voice," I say tenderly, adoring this sweet interaction between them. Leo is the most adorable kid. "Now, we must decide on her name, Lucy or Poppy."
"UGH. She smells bad!" Scout says. "Her name is Poopy!" He laughs, holding his nose to not smell the poop smell from her diaper.
"It is not Poopy, Scout," I hold the baby from Leo's arms and get up from the bed, bringing her to the changing table near our bathroom.
"It's Poppy," Owen corrects him but laughs simultaneously. He gets up to help me change the baby. Both boys come to watch and make disgusting sounds when we open the dirty diaper. I clean her up quickly while she cries. She hates being naked.
"Mommy, where is her penis?" Scout asks me while I am cleaning her butt. "It didn't grow yet?" Owen laughs at the question.
I look at my son's eyes; his innocence and curiosity endear me. Still, I am taken by surprise by his question as it didn't occur to me that up to this point, he had never seen a girl without clothes before.
"She doesn't have a penis," I say, looking at his eyes. "She has a vagina. Some people are born with a penis, and some people are born with a vagina." I explain, simply looking at his eyes, then at Leo, who is next to him.
"Poor baby," Scout completes upon my explanation.
"Because the baby doesn't have a penis," he says while I close her diaper.
"Scout, it is not bad; it is just different." Owen tries to explain.
"Penises and vaginas are equally good. People are all different, and that's beautiful." I tell him, hoping my son won't grow up as one of those guys who love their penis too much. I look into his eyes. "Don't you think?" He nods, looking at me, too. "Some people are born with blue eyes, others with brown eyes. Blond hair and dark hair."
"Yeah, the baby has dark hair like yours," Scout says. "I have blond hair like daddy," he points at Owen.
I look at him smiling, and then my eyes cross with Leo, who is very quiet, observing the baby and then our conversation. I put myself in his shoes for a moment, and I am suddenly scared that he will feel excluded from this conversation. Once I finish closing the baby onesie, I hold her up again in my arms.
"Do you want to hold her now, Scout?" I ask him, changing the subject.
"No," Scout shakes his head, stepping away from me. "She smells bad."
"She is clean now," I say, laughing.
"I wanna watch a movie," Scout says, ignoring the baby altogether. "Can I watch Star Wars?"
"Yeah, you can," Owen nods at him but then looks at me with a sigh and a light shrug. "In the big TV downstairs. I might watch it too. Do you want to come downstairs?" He asks me, looking me in the eyes.
The boys leave the room together; I hear their voices talking as they go down the stairs. Owen touches my arm tenderly.
"It wasn't so bad, huh?" he says, referring to the boys meeting the baby. "All in all, it was good."
"Yeah," I nod. "It was good. You go watch the movie with them. I will go down later."
"Ok," Owen smiles, looking me in the eyes. He kisses my forehead and turns around to leave the bedroom.
I sigh and look at the baby in my arms. Her tiny fists closed, her deep eyes as she stared at my face. I touch the bridge of her little nose softly, noticing how she opens her mouth with my touch. She does look a lot like me, and it just fascinates me. Just how it fascinated me about Scout when he was born, how much like Owen he turned out to be.
"Our house is full of boys," I tell her softly. "They are loud, but you know that already. Now you are on my team. We don't like Star Wars that much, do we? We can just lie down here…."
I lay down with her in bed, laying her on my chest. She calms herself down even more, and it feels like we're just one again, just like we were for the past 40 weeks.
I enter our bedroom after singing songs and reading a whole book with Scout and Leo. They had been more needy and clingy during dinner and bedtime than before, but I was expecting the worst. It was hard to convince Leo that he had to go to bed and leave the baby for the night. On the other hand, Scout didn't want to sleep on his bed if the baby got to sleep in my bed.
"I am exhausted," I say as I softly close the bedroom door, not closing it all the way. I walk to the bassinet where the baby sleeps, wrapped in her swaddle. She sleeps soundly, but I know she'll be up in two hours if I am lucky. I lay down in bed, pulling the covers on top of me.
"It will get better," Owen says as he turns the lights off. "It is just the first night."
"Don't fool yourself thinking they won't wander to our bed in the middle of the night," I tell him, making him chuckle.
"They might," Owen nods, moving closer under the covers and kissing my head. "You're amazing."
"Hmmm," I feel my eyes closing, heavy and tired. Owen's body is warm next to me, and I just see myself drifting in my sleep.
I wake up with Owen calling me. I blink a couple times, and the light on his nightstand is on, confusing me a little. The baby is in his arms, whinnying.
"She's hungry," he says when I rest on my elbow, trying to look at the clock. "Can you take her?"
"Yeah," I say, drunk of sleep, barely opening my eyes. I rest against my pillows, and Owen passes me the baby. Gently, I rest her on my arms and offer her my nipple, to which she latches on fast, hungry. "I didn't listen to her crying," I tell Owen.
"She didn't cry a lot," he tells me. "You were deeply asleep."
We both stay quiet, my eyes closed as I nurse her. It's 12:45am. She has been waking every three hours, so I mentally calculate she will wake up again around 4am. I rest my eyes while she nurses quietly, opening them again when she stops suckling, and I switch her to the other breast. When she finishes, it is 1:15am.
"She is done, I think," I say to a sleepy Owen lying next to me. "She ate well."
"Yeah?" he gets up and takes the baby from me. He rests her upright against his shoulder to burp her, which she does fast. "Good girl."
I watch him standing next to our bed, a baby mouth towel on his shoulder; he rocks her gently, holding her against his shoulder. She looks even smaller on his arms. And he looks so good being a dad.
"Thank you," I tell him, smiling as I watch him with her.
"Of course," he smiles back at me. "I forgot how the first few days are hard."
"Yeah," I chuckle softly, lying back in bed. "I guess that's why people keep having babies. They forget."
Owen laughs softly. "Hmm, true," he lays her down and changes her diaper. She whines a little but being milk drunk prevents her from crying out loud. "I'm not very good at swaddling…." Owen says. "But I think this is good." He tells me when he is lying her on the bassinet.
"Bring her here," I tell him. He stops and looks at me. "Bring her here. I don't want her to cry too much and wake up the other ones,"
"Right," Owen says, passing the sleeping baby into my arms. "You need this?" He asks for the baby pillow from her bassinet. I nod, and he gives me that. I put the pillow in bed between us and lay the baby on it. Owen lies down again and turns the light off.
"She smells so good," I say, lying on my side, my arm around her. I kiss her tiny head, press my nose against her skin, and breathe her in. "I'm in love,"
Owen lies on his side, too, facing me. I see him touching her cheek softly.
"She's perfect," he says low. "And she needs a name,"
"I know," I say, looking at his eyes in this soft darkness. The light coming from outside illuminates the room in the cracks of the blinds. "Scout ruined Poppy. We can't name her that; he will call her poopy."
"That was witty. You got to give him that," Owen says.
"I know. He is funny," I say, smiling. I rest my hand softly on the baby's chest, feeling how she breathes peacefully. "I don't know how to name babies. I was never good at naming anything, not even dogs, then I gave my son a dog name. Plus, I'm out of dead family member names to use."
Owen chuckles. "Don't say that. Scout is a nice name. Do you wanna use the grandma's names? Or some of your sisters? You can, you know."
I stop and look at him, even if I can't see his eyes so well in the dark. I find his hand and intertwine our fingers. I think for a moment if I'd like to give any of my friends' names to my baby, but I am sure none would like that. Meredith would be mortified. Maggie had already said to not use hers. Addie and Charlotte would tell me to use prettier, with less emotional baggage, names. And I agree; I can't call Scout by his middle name without being sad.
"No," I say finally. "No. I don't want to name her after my mother, and I am sure she will be sad if we use your mom's name. And…no sisters. They are all alive and well."
"That's fair," He says, rubbing his thumb gently on my skin. "We like Lucy."
"Yeah," I say, unsure. Maybe I can let Owen decide the name. It would be easier. He notices the uncertainty in my voice.
"Or maybe Laura?" he suggests. "Or Sean, like the little girl in Scout's class that you think is adorable. Or Bradley from that show you like," he chuckles.
"Yeah, all good names," I say to him. "Maybe we can decide in the morning. Look at her face in the daylight."
I hear Owen chuckling softly.
"We can," he says. "The daylight is coming soon, anyway." he sighs. "We've two more hours to sleep before it starts over."
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