***
Four months later
Jason
I'm doing everything I can to not cry right now. I'm in a hospital lounger, my sweet baby girl on my chest, doing some skin-to-skin time with papa while Alexis dozes next to us in the bed. We're both exhausted after twenty-five hours of labor, but now we have our sweet girl, and it was all worth it.
Fuck, it was so hard seeing Alexis in so much pain. I hate that I could barely do anything for her. At one point, I think I told her we were done with one baby; I won't do that to her again. And she fucking laughed and said, "Yeah, we'll see about that." Is she crazy?
But when I look at this little human we created, I think maybe she’s right. I’m not sure how I could love her any more than I did when she was just a peanut in the womb, but now that she’s here, I feel like my heart is about to explode out of my chest.
“When we get home,” I tell her quietly, hoping I don’t wake Alexis. “Your best friend, Slinky, will be so happy to meet you. She’s been keeping your bassinet nice and warm for you.” I gently run a finger down her downy cheek, finding it hard to swallow. This love is overwhelming.
Our little girl begins to stir, making sweet baby noises and nuzzling. Her eyes are still closed, but her mouth is pursed; I think she might be ready to try the boob again. I read somewhere that fathers can use their own nipples to soothe their babies if mom isn't around, and even though I know it would be completely natural, I can't quite make myself do it. She begins to squawk, and I quickly stand up, cradling her while gently waking Alexis. As much as I wish I could let her just sleep, we need to try again to feed her.
"Is she looking for the boob?" Her voice is rough and groggy, but she's already reaching for our baby. First, I have her sit forward, so I can scoot in behind her, careful not to jostle her too much. Once Alexis' back is settled comfortably against my chest, I help her undo the hooks of her maternity dress.
We tried nursing a few hours ago but struggled. Baby didn't quite latch, and it was painful for Alexis. Nobody truly prepares you for how helpless you'll feel when your baby doesn't feed right away. Newborns can go way longer than you would expect, designed to handle not nursing if things aren't perfect. But every new parent thinks it won't be them until it is. It's terrifying.
But this time, after a few misses, the baby latches comfortably and begins nursing with abandon. Her tiny little fist opening and closing softly against Alexis’ chest.
We both stare down at her in awe; she's so perfect. I kiss Alexis' hairline, smoothing back the strands. She sighs, relaxing into me even more.
“We really need to name her.”
I laugh. We've been saying that for hours now. Every name option we had prepared over these last few months just wasn't right. And now we're scrambling. "I know. How about I'll just start listing names, and you just tell me when we get to one you like?"
“Hmmm, seems like a faulty system, but sure.”
“Margaret.”
“No, too close to Martha. And don’t you dare suggest anything close to my mom’s name. Not happening.”
Ok.
“Esther.”
“No. Come on, she’s not ninety.”
“Ava?”
“No.”
“Lauren?”
“No.”
“Selene?”
“No.”
Rebecca?”
“No.”
“Brexley.”
“What are we, granola people?”