“It’s the way he still looks at you now,” she said quietly enough for it to stay just between us. A smile worked up the corner of her mouth. “He keeps that stern shield up because he’s fiercely protective of the people he loves. But I think he’s loved you longer than even he wants to admit.” She squeezed my hand. “I’m just glad that I had you first.”
We stood there for a moment, crammed in the hallway, soaking in the last of what life was like before everything changed.
“Are you ready for your C-section?” she asked.
“No,” I admitted. “It freaks me out. I always thought I’d have this magical, primal labor. But I think it’s the best option. My OB agrees. It’s just...Not what I planned.”
“Life rarely is. But I think the best things in life happen when the plan goes out the window and we live in the margin between what is expected and what’s anticipated.”
The last year of my life had been anything but planned, but it had been the best surprise. It had given me more than I could have asked for. It healed wounds I was certain would never close.
“You’d better believe I’m going to camp out in the hospital parking lot with a sleeping bag and the biggest cup of coffee I can hold, waiting for Logan to call and tell me everything went just fine. And I’ll be at your beck and call for whatever you need when you get home. Bryan’s already been warned that he’ll be sleeping alone unless he comes and helps. Laundry, cooking, holding the baby so you can shower and take care of yourself—whatever you need.”
“Thanks, Ky,” I croaked. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
“I’m not worried because I know Lo won’t let anything happen to you or that sweet baby. He’d walk through hell and back for you.”
Logan slipped out of his seat and made his way over to us with concern marring his face. “What’s the matter? I thought you were going to the bathroom? Is everything okay?”
“Told you,” Kylie said as she squeezed past him and rejoined the party.
“I’m fine,” I said as I pressed my palms to his chest. “I just needed a minute to catch my breath.”
“What were you and Ky talking about?” he asked.
I smirked. “Just how she’ll castrate you and store your balls in a jar if you ever piss me off.”
34
LOGAN
Ipaced in front of the double doors of the operating room. The paper scrubs swished with each stride as the nurse gave me a rundown of what to expect when she walked me in to be with Leah.
We had spent the last few weeks doing everything we could to prepare for our boy to make his entrance into the world. The nursery was ready. Furniture was in place. Clothes were put away. Diapers were stocked. Our freezer was overflowing with ready-made meals for quick dinners. I was officially on paternity leave and had no intention of leaving her side until the day I went back to work—from home, of course.
But now, as I peered through the small operating room window, it all seemed so inconsequential.
I hadn’t left her side for a moment since we got the call that her obstetrician and the hospital were ready for her to come in for her scheduled C-section. That was, until she was taken back for anesthesia and I had to stand there and watch her go.
It felt like my heart was being ripped out of my chest.
She was in the best hands, but I couldn’t help but want to be the hands holding her through the things that scared her. I wanted to be the person telling her it was going to be okay. I wanted to be the one telling her how strong and brave she was.
I was numb as the nurse assigned to babysit me helped me into the scrub gown, cap, mask, and shoe covers.
“All right, Dad,” the nurse said with a smile. “The drape is up and they’re ready for you. There’s a stool set up right by Mom’s head. That’s for you. Go right to it and sit. Don’t cross the drape or you could contaminate the sterile field. We’re talking about major surgery here, so if you’re not good with blood and guts, don’t even peek. If you think you’re going to pass out, tell me and we’ll get it handled. Don’t try to tough it out and become a patient too.”
“Yes, ma’am,” I said as I peered in the window again.
Leah had braided her hair in tight Dutch braids to keep it out of her way for the next few days, but now it was covered in a surgical cap. I could see her mouth moving as she talked, and wondered who she was talking to. She seemed calm, but I wondered if that was just the anesthesia.
“When the baby is born we’re going to do a quick check. If everything’s good, we’ll put him right on Mom’s chest. If there are complications and we get in the weeds, Mom and baby are priority. So if I tell you to move back or follow me out, I need you to listen and move right away.”
I knew she was just giving me a standard spiel, but I couldn’t stomach the thought of anything happening to Leah or our baby boy.
“Are you ready?” she asked.
I nodded, because I wanted to get to Leah more than I was afraid for her.