Page 123 of Crazy Imperfect Hearts

Lucas rushes to the side of the bed. “Regan, what’s wrong?”

I shake my head. “Something about hormones and mood swings. Lola said it’s all perfectly normal. I’ll be fine.”

He stares at me and pushes a piece of errant hair behind my ear. The way his fingers sweep against my cheek almost has me breaking down in sobs again.

“Can I go see him now?” I ask Lola.

“If you can make it to the bathroom and back without help, I’ll let you go without the wheelchair.”

“Deal.”

My legs feel a little funny when I get up, like I haven’t walked on them for a while, and when I pee—geesh!—it stings like a mother.

Afterward, I look at myself in the mirror. Bad idea. I need a shower. And makeup. And maybe ice packs for these huge bags under my eyes.

“I’m a total wreck,” I say, emerging from the bathroom.

Lucas hands me the plush new robe his mother, Sarah, gave me. He grins. “You look like a mom.” I look up to meet his gaze and our eyes connect like they did right after Mitchell was born. “Beautiful,” he whispers.

How can he even think that? I’m fat and ugly, I have blood and mucus coming out of me, and I basically look like the living dead.

Lola is standing directly behind him, her eyebrow cocked whimsically, grin on her face.

“I… you’re crazy.”

“I’m not crazy,” he says. “You’re glowing.”

I roll my eyes and ask Lola, “Did I pass the test?”

She motions toward the door. “You know the way.” Then she picks up the tiny vials of milk or whatever. “I’ll get these to the NICU. Thanks for the sushi.”

Lucas holds the door open. On our way to see Mitchell, he takes my elbow as if to steady me. “Mom just left. She’ll be back tomorrow. Everyone else is wondering when they can see you. Maddie, Ava, Ryder. Your other friends. They know they can’t see Mitchell, but they were hoping to visit. Can I tell them to stop by tomorrow?”

“I’ll be with Mitchell.”

“You can’t sit with him all day every day.”

“Says who?”

“You’re going to need breaks, Regan. He sleeps most of the time. Even if he were at home with us…” He shifts his hold on myarm. “I mean at home with you or at home with me.” He sighs. “Even then, he’d sleep a lot and we wouldn’t be hovering over him twenty-four seven.”

I nod. “You’re right. I guess they can come tomorrow.”

“Are you excited to see him?”

“So excited. Have I missed anything? Did he roll over yet?”

He laughs heartily. “Well, you know, the Nighthawks are already recruiting him for shortstop.”

I feel a smile splitting my face. How is it that I always feel better when Lucas is around? The smile falls, because in a day or two, he won’t be around. He won’t be around when I wake up. When I break down. When I need anything. When I need…him.

“Here we are.”

My heart pounds excitedly as I wash my hands. I’m going to see Mitchell. My baby. My son. Before I can stop it, tears start streaming down my cheek.

“What is it?” Lucas asks.

“I just can’t believe I’m a mom.”

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