She smiles, and I nearly drop to my knees in relief.
“Mother and baby are doing just fine, Dad. Scarlet is still out, but the anesthesia should be wearing off soon. Would you like to come back and meet your son?” She holds her arm out for me to follow, but I stand there in shock.
Did I hear her wrong? “My what?”
“You have a beautiful five-pound, nine-ounce baby boy. And he has an amazing set of lungs on him. His APGARs are good, and they’re cleaning him up now.” She guides me back to the NICU where they’re assessing my son.
Holy shit.
We have a son.
And he’s perfect.