Page 129 of Pregnant in Plaid
"And this one about proper flange sizing?—"
Trace gently takes the handouts from her and sets them aside. "We're good. Thank you, Suzy. You've been very... informative."
We escape before she can distribute more literature.
By the time we finish the diaper-changing refresher, the bathing workshop, and the "Understanding Your Baby's Cries" seminar—which basically concluded that all baby cries sound the same and we're all just guessing—it's late afternoon and I'm exhausted.
"I need coffee," I announce.
"You're breastfeeding. Can you have coffee?" Trace asks.
"I can have caffeine in moderation. Which means I'm having all the coffee."
We head to the hospital cafeteria, which has transformed into something resembling a party. There are balloons. A banner that says "Congratulations!" Tessa's grinning face. Gage looking mildly uncomfortable. Marnie from the general store holding a gift bag roughly the size of a smart car.
"Surprise!" Tessa yells.
"What is this?" I ask.
"Your going-home party!" She bounces over and hugs me. "Brooklyn's being discharged tomorrow, so we're celebrating!"
"In a hospital cafeteria?"
"It's the only place Dr. Martinez could meet us. She's on shift." Tessa gestures to the table where Dr. Martinez sits, looking amused and slightly concerned about the number of balloons.
"You threw me a party," I say slowly.
"Of course I did. You're taking my goddaughter home tomorrow!" Tessa's eyes water. "This is huge!"
Marnie descends with her giant gift bag. "I brought supplies. Essentials. Things you absolutely need."
"We bought out an entire baby store," Trace says. "I think we're covered."
"You bought the wrong things. Men always do." She starts pulling items from the bag. "Nipple cream. Hemorrhoid cream. Stool softeners. Heavy-duty pads. Witch hazel wipes?—"
"Marnie," I interrupt, mortified. "This is very... practical."
"Practical keeps you alive in the first month." She keeps going. "Coffee. Energy bars. Dry shampoo because you won't have time to shower. Face wipes. More coffee. Did I mention coffee?"
"I love you," I say, and mean it.
Dr. Martinez approaches with a cup of truly terrible cafeteria coffee. "Congratulations, you two. Brooklyn's doing beautifully. She's gained four ounces, her breathing is perfect, and she's taking bottles like a champ."
"When can we take her home?" Trace asks.
"Tomorrow morning. I'll do final discharge papers around ten, and you can take her home after that."
Tomorrow. We're taking our daughter home tomorrow.
The panic must show on my face because Dr. Martinez pats my shoulder. "You're going to be fine. You've taken all the classes, you know what to look for, and you have my number if anything concerns you."
"What if we break her?" I whisper.
"You won't break her. She's tougher than she looks." Dr. Martinez smiles. "And you two are more capable than you think."
Gage and Trace drift toward the terrible coffee, leaving the women to talk. Because of course they do. Men plus feelings equals beverage acquisition.
"How are you really doing?" Tessa asks, sliding into the chair beside me.
