Page 118 of Crazy Imperfect Hearts

“You’ll hear alarms sounding often in here. Most of the time it’s not a real emergency, just a change in vitals that is easily fixed by altering a ventilator or other piece of equipment. And sometimes leads and wires come loose. You’ll get used to all the sounds soon enough.”

I stay on the ground so long, my knees bruise and my legs go numb. But I need to be close. I want him to see me.

“You want a turn?” Regan asks after holding him for a long time.

I want to. More than anything. But seeing the two of them together as mother and son is the most amazing thing I’ve ever witnessed. She’s earned the right to these moments. And no matter how much I want to take him in my arms, she needs it more than me.

“I’ll have my turn later. I’m good just holding his hand.”

A few minutes later, it dawns on me that I haven’t taken a single photo. I get my phone from my pocket and take two dozenpictures. Of him. Them. Every part of him. His little hand. His face. I open the blanket and take one of his foot. I push back the beanie and take one of his fine, dark hair.

Christa changes her gloves and holds out her hands. “Here. I’ll take one of all of you.”

I shift around on my sore knees, put a hand on Mitchell, and lean close to Regan while Christa snaps another dozen photos.

“You’ll send all those to me?” Regan asks.

“You and the whole damn town,” I say proudly.

She smiles then yawns. Christa doesn’t miss it.

“You need to sleep, Mom. You’ve had a long day.”

Regan frowns. “I don’t want to leave.”

“You’ll be better for him if you’re rested,” Christa says. “And you can come back any time, even in the middle of the night.”

“But he’ll be alone.”

“I promise he won’t be. We’re all here for him.”

“I’ll come back and sit with him,” I assure her. “When you’re sleeping, I’ll be in here. I’ll stay with him. Okay?”

Regan nods reluctantly. “Promise?”

“We have family here,” I say to Christa. “Can they come in?”

“Grandparents only. We have to limit the number of people. More people mean more germs.”

I feel bad for Regan. My parents will get to see Mitchell, but she hasn’t even told hers about him. Will she? Now that he’s here, will she tell them?

“Now kiss your little one goodbye for now,” Christa says. “I’ll get him tucked back into his temporary home.”

Regan lowers her head and kisses him. Then I do. I lean over and place my very first kiss on his little head. I’m not going to be one of those dads who thinks it’s unmanly to kiss and hug and show affection. I’m going to hold him every chance I get. Show him that, like my dad did for me, hugging a child mightjust be one of the manliest things youcando for him. “I’ll be back,” I whisper.

Christa takes him, and I wheel a sleepy Regan back to her room knowing our lives are forever changed. Because of the little man in the incubator. The tiny human that has ripped a giant-sized hole in my heart and filled it with more than I could have ever anticipated.

Regan reaches a hand up by her shoulder, rooting it around, searching for one of mine as I push her. I grab it and squeeze, wanting so much to say the three words caught in my throat. I do say them, but only to myself. Because I’m not about to ruin the monumental moments we just experienced with our son.

Our son.

I’m a fucking dad.

I still can’t believe it.

Chapter Forty-one

Lucas

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