Okkkk ok newborn Shane and Ilya parents thoughts!! Now, for the record I see Shane and Ilya having 3 kids, the first one is a surrogate, egg donor with Shane’s sperm - At Ilya’s instance, he wants a tiny Shane and he wants one NOWW and then one with Ilya’s because Shane wants a baby with Ilya’s hair and Ilya’s heart. And then finally, a tiny little love that they adopt, a two week old that they meet and fall in instant love with, a perfect addition to their family.
But that first baby, the first addition to their family- ohh is that little girl the sudden centre of their universe. And in my mind, Shane is the calmer parent- sure and steady familiar with the parenting books he’d read, steady in the ground of his one childhood. He’s been taught so well how to love, by his mum and dad, known the warmth of family and somehow felt this natural pull into it. Shane worries about a lot, can second guess himself at times, but with his baby, it feels like something he can just, understand. He is good at caring, at protecting, at looking after what is his. Ilyaaa our ilya is a total fucking mess. He’s anxious and worried, nervous of all the things that could happen to her, fearful of something being wrong. He gets this sick twist in his stomach when he hears her cry. He aches with making sure his sweet little baby never feels sad or scared or alone. He worries about doing any of it wrong.
Shane and Ilya have always made a pretty perfect team though.
On the third night of their baby being home Ilya simply cannot sleep. Their bundle is safely swaddled, as per the safe sleeping guidelines Shane had essentially memorised. Ilya is laying at the edge of the bed peering down at her, in the bassinet that attaches to the side of their mattress watching her dark lashes and thick thick mess of hair, the rosebud of her nose, the way he mouth pulls in fussy sucks at her pacifier. Ilya just can’t stop looking at her, believing she is real and is theirs. Worrying if she is warm enough, comfortable, if she is dreaming well.
He watches her little body wriggle and watches her long enough till she starts to properly fuss, little huffing sounds that arch into one sad cry before Ilya is out of bed and scooping his daughters tiny shape up into his chest, one hand holding her to him as he shushes. He walks out of their room, into the nursery, keen to not wake Shane who had been up early with her this morning. Ilya warms a bottle of formula in the fancy bottle warmer Yuna had bought them, settles himself on the rocking chair, in just his sweats and socks, his little girl a bundle of warm blankets to his chest. She whines and simpers at him till he can fit the nipple of the bottle into her mouth, watches with joy as she takes it, settles as she guzzles hungrily down from the bottle. Ilya rocks them gently and hums songs down to his girl as she feeds, calls her so clever and lovely and good for drinking the whole bottle. He shifts her onto his chest, her tummy pressing into his body in quick huffed breathing. Ilya pats her back so gently with his fingers to help burp her, and presses his nose to her head to breath her in in in. The smell of her, her baby soap and moisturiser. He and Shane had washed her together, a baby tub laid in their bathroom sink, warm water and washer and soft music from Ilya’s phone.
Ilya counts her fast fast fat breaths, the patter patter patter of her quick heart and he never knew babies breathed so quick, their hearts worked so fast. It had worries him terribly when he first met her, held her, until the nurse had explained she was perfectly healthy.
She hiccups and then spits up a little on Ilya’s shoulder and he cleans it with one of the soft muslin clothes shane had bought maybe 50 of and tucks her back to his chest, rocks with her his whole tiny world in his hand and watches her more, the flutter of her long lashes and he wonders if when she gets older and sees the summers her skin will freckle like Shane’s he desperately hopes so. He doesn’t hear Shane come in, just jumps when he feels Shane’s hand on the top of his head, playing with his curls. “She ok?” He asks in a yawn and Ilya nods. “I think so” he whispers. And Shane smiles, places a feather light fingertip on her cheek, touches soft soft sifts. “So happy with your papa” Shane whispers to her and Ilya wants to cry maybe. “This is my favourite spot too” he whispers to his girl, so full of love Ilya can hear it drip in his voice. “Your papa looks after you so well” and Ilya knows the words are kind of for him too. He swallows hard and blinks and there are tears and Shane is brushing them from his face. “You do Ilya, you’re so good to her” and something in Ilya’s chest settles, just a tiny bit a worry he couldn’t even put a shape to.
Ilya cannot be inside the room for her vaccines, Shane comes out red faced and frowning, ears red too, a slight sheen of sweat to his forehead, because it had been horrible the way she screamed and fussed but Shane could get through it, for her. Ilya takes both of the into his chest, smothers kisses to both of their loves cheeks and then takes his tiny girl and holds her close, whispers to her about being a very brave little bunny just like her dad.
The first time she gets the flu Ilya is hanging on by a thread. She’s nine months old, chunky legs and arms and dark eyes, a cute giggle and an affinity for car keys, and her chick, a yellow fuzzy soft toy she cannot go anywhere without- a gift from David. Ilya is beside himself, shaky hands because she just can’t settle and worry so big it might kill him. Shane is quiet, like he always is when he worries, but methodical, checking her temperature and tracking how much of her feeds she’s having and texting his mum for advice. Ilya has to duck out of the nursery when she won’t screaming, red faced and sobbing, despite being clean and dry and fed. Shane finds him deep breathing in the bathroom, their daughter safe and miserable in her cot and Shane holds him till his hands stop shaking. Tells Ilya their girl will be ok, be just fine, that nothing bad will happen, they have her. The end up in the bath together, all three of them, water cooler than usual to help settle her fever and then Shane lays between Ilya’s legs, their girl in his arms and Ilya breaths deep and slow as he watches her finally fall asleep. Feels his world come back together as she looks settled and safe, held by his Shane.
But like the worry is so full full fulllll spilling out with love. That’s his perfect little baby his sweet tiny girl, that is all theirs, their baby. And he just wants to get it right, so right for her. But there is so much joy in it too, how he sees her first proper smile, watches her babble and then learn her words, cries and is so gentle when he cuts back her nails. He has a million photos of her on his phone, of her and Shane, her sleeping, her tiny toes, her silly faces.
Ilya loves watching her sleep, so tiny on his chest, his hand a perfect cover for her back, knowing he has her, safe and sound, stoking her back with his fingers and telling her “I’m here, I’m right here, papas got you being a dad is the best brilliant most terrifying thing he’s ever done
