by Grace, Kenna
“I’m Dr. Malek, your obstetrician, and this here to your right will be your labor and delivery nurse, Harold Laws. He’s going to be your point person through this. One of the best, you’re in good hands.”
The labor and delivery nurse took a spot by my side and helped guide me through breathing while Dr. Malek attached several adhesive pads to my stomach. Wires ran from the pads up to a monitor that stood to the opposite side of the nurse.
After flicking a switch, the monitor displayed a few digital numbers on top of a graph. “This is a fetal monitor,” Dr. Malek said, watching the monitor to get a reading.
“What’s it monitoring?” Clay asked, sounding concerned.
Another contraction caused me to grit my teeth and squeeze my eyes shut until it passed.
“We’re checking the baby’s heart rate and measuring the contractions.”
“And,” Clay asked, “is everything alright?”
Dr. Malek didn’t reply, but his eyes were fixated on the monitor.
“Doc?”
This time, Dr. Malek spoke. But it wasn’t to Clay. “Get the epidural ready, please.”
“No, I don’t want an epid—” Before I could finish my sentence, a contraction, the most intense yet, rolled through my body. I shouted and slammed my fist onto the bed and stars danced in my vision.
“The fetus is going into distress. We need to perform an emergency C-section and we’re going to need the epidural. I know how scared and concerned you must be, but you have to try your best to stay calm. Can you do that for me?”
Panic started to course through me, but I tried my best to focus on my breathing. I knew the increased risk for complications during pregnancy for an omega my age and I knew the only thing I could do right now was take it one second at a time. “I’ll do whatever I need to.”
Clay gave my hand a squeeze, took a knee at the edge of the bed, and kissed my fingers. “And I’ll be here with you every step of the way.”
A few minutes later the labor and delivery nurse had the epidural administered and within thirty minutes the pain from the contractions had been severely reduced. Clay stood by my side as Dr. Malek commenced the emergency C-section.
My teeth grimaced as I prepared for the incision, but the epidural masked the entirety of the pain. I felt some pressure, pushing, and tugging, but after experiencing the full force of the contractions without the drugs, this was like a cakewalk.
Within moments of the incision, a cry pierced the room. I’d never thought a cry to be beautiful. Then again, I’d never heard the crying of a child I’d carried for nine months. The first sounds of a baby I loved before I even had the chance to see or to touch him.
“Clay, would you like to cut the umbilical cord,” the nurse asked.
With a look of amazement and unconditional love in his eyes, he nodded his head and took hold of the scissors.
Once cut, Dr. Malek stepped to my side, and for the first time, I saw my baby. I glanced over to Clay and then back to Dr. Malek’s arms. Our baby. I saw, for the first time in my life, a miracle.
Dr. Malek passed our baby to the nurse. “We’re going to have to move him to a warmer room for now and complete an assessment. But after we stitch you back up and move you over to recovery, you’ll have all the time in the world with him.”
Once the process was complete and I was in my recovery room, Clay and I were reunited with our bundle of joy. Dr. Malek wheeled him in on a mobile crib.
My breath felt short and full of wonderment. “Can I hold him?”
Dr. Malek nodded with a warm smile. He gently pulled him from the crib and laid him in my arms. It was amazing how something so small could be my entire world. Clay took a seat on the corner of my recovery bed and brushed his fingers through our baby’s thin hair.
“He’s beautiful.”
I let out a soft chuckle full of emotion. “Isn’t he?” I looked up to Clay, who was entranced with what we’d made. “Do you want to hold him?”
Clay hesitantly nodded.
Carefully, I passed him over and Clay cradled him in his arms. His face lit up in a way I’d never seen. A few tears began to stream down my cheeks as I watched them.
“What should we name him?”
I wiped my cheeks with the back of my hand. We’d never discussed names, but one slipped from my mouth as if by reflex. “How do you feel about Myles?”
Clay looked over to me and smiled. “I think it’s perfect.”
He looked back to our baby and craned his neck to give him a kiss on the head.
Tears started to swell back up in my eyes and I covered my face. I didn’t want Clay to see me crying. Not right now. The moment was precious, but uncertainty was starting to intrude. My feelings for Clay had evolved, but now that our child was born, I didn’t know what was in store for us.
He asked me to move in while I was pregnant, and I’d agreed. We hadn’t talked about what we would do afterwards, and I was nervous of what the future would bring.
22
Clay
“Merry Christmas,” I said, yawning as I walked into the living room, taking a seat on the couch next to Elliott.
He was holding Myles in his arms and gently rocking him back and forth. “Merry Christmas,” he replied, leaning over to give me a quick kiss.
I looked down to our little bundle of joy and tickled his stomach with one of my fingers. “And Merry Christmas to you,” I babbled.
He kicked his feet and gripped my finger with the palm of his hand.
Elliott aww-ed and my lips tugged up into a smile. I craned down to give his tiny hand a kiss. “What do you think, is it present time yet?”
Elliott gasped and opened his eyes wide. “Are you going to open your presents?”
I stood from the couch and made my way to the socket on the wall next to the Christmas tree and plugged in the cord. Green, blue, and red strands of light lit around the bristles of the tree and the golden star sitting at its peak cast its warm luminance.
After placing another log into the fireplace, I grabbed a couple of the gift-wrapped boxes from the base of the tree and brought them back to the couch with me. I shook one of the boxes next to Myles. “Hmm, I wonder what this is? Can you open it?” I sat it down on his lap.
Myles gripped the present and Elliott began to tear a strip of the wrapping paper off from the side. Myles latched on to the loose paper and Elliott ripped it off for him.
I clapped my hands and a huge smile spread across my face. “Good job,” I cheered.
Elliott peeled off the rest of the paper and opened the box to expose the tiniest pair of booties. The ones we had purchased the day we stumbled into Santa’s workshop. I passed Elliott a few more of the gifts and he opened them up while they rested on Myles’ lap. Myles didn’t seem much interested in the clothing, but his eyes widened at the stuffed plushy.
It didn’t take long until all the gifts were unwrapped. Well, all but one that was still under the tree. It was a large box in comparison to the others we had purchased for Myles, and I didn’t remember Elliott or I buying anything quite that size. In fact, I was pretty sure we had already opened everything we’d bought for Myles. I did a quick head count from the ones scattered by Elliott’s feet. “Wonder what that is,” I stated, nodding over to the large gift under the tree. “Did you get something else for Myles?”
Elliott shook his head. “It’s not for Myles,” he admitted sheepishly.
I grabbed the box from under the tree and brought it back to the couch with me. My name was written on the tag. Surprised, I glanced back up to Elliott.
He let out an exhale and cracked a smile. “I know, I know. We said we weren’t going to get anything for each other, but I figured it was more for the both of us.”
I raised a brow.
“Just open it, you’ll see what I mean.”
Excitedly, I started to tear away the wrapping paper and tossed it on the ground next to my feet. On the cover of the now-exposed box was an image of a
coffee maker. It wasn’t until I read the label that I realized it was more than just a coffee maker. “An espresso machine?” I glanced over to Elliott, who was watching me intently.
“Do you like it?” he asked, sounding unsure.
“I love it!”
His lips pulled up into a smile and he exhaled a breath of relief. “Good. Figured it’s probably going to come in handy.”
I chuckled a little to myself; he wasn’t wrong. It had only been a couple days since we were discharged from the hospital and I would be surprised if I had gotten more than a few hours’ sleep each night since.
Myles’ eyes started to drift shut.
I always thought people were exaggerating when they said how little sleep they got after having a newborn baby. My opinion shifted rather quick after the first night home from the hospital. It was amazing how something so tiny and fragile could sleep so much and still manage to deprive the pleasure of a restful night for both Elliott and me.
Myles slept for what seemed like at least eighteen hours a day. Unfortunately, those eighteen hours seemed to always be broken into two hour blocks. Elliott and I joked that Myles slept so much that he should be rested enough for the both of us.
It wasn’t just the crying that woke me during the night, though. In fact, I was pretty sure that even if Myles did sleep through the night, I’d still be sleep deprived from nerves. There were already more than a few times that I woke up to check on him, just to make sure everything was alright.
Still looking at the box, I cracked a smile and glanced over to Elliott. “Thank you, this was really thoughtful of you,” I said warmly.
“Don’t thank me too much,” he replied with a laugh. “I got it for myself just as much as I did you. Hell, I’ll probably find myself coming over just to make a couple shots.”
“What do you mean coming over?” I replied. “Where are you going to be?”
Elliott shifted uncomfortably on the couch and his shoulders started to tense. “It’s just, I mean, I don’t know.” His eyes averted to the floor for a moment before shifting back to mine. “I really appreciate you letting me stay here and helping me out while I was pregnant, but I don’t want to overstay my welcome. We really only discussed me living here while I was pregnant.”
Seeing my omega so anxious for the future tugged on my heartstrings. Living together while he was pregnant with our child was the extent of our conversation, but him moving back to his place afterwards wasn’t what I had in mind. “There’s something I need to admit.”
His brows arched and his tongue wet his lips. “What?” he asked, sounding concerned.
I reached into my pocket and snaked out a small box wrapped in reindeer covered Christmas paper. “I might’ve gotten you something too.”
Elliott’s face lit up in surprise and his open hand playfully pushed on my shoulder. “We agreed we weren’t getting each other anything,” he jokingly whined.
“Hey, it’s not like you didn’t break the deal either.” I gave him a wink. “Besides, it’s also more for the both of us.” I held out the gift and passed it over to him.
Carefully trying to not wake Myles, Elliott started to peel away the wrapping paper until all that was left in his hand was a small cardboard box. He brought it up to his ear and gave it a shake. A rattle sounded. “Hmm, I wonder what it is.”
I shrugged as I watched him with a smile. “Open it and find out,” I replied nervously. I wiped my clammy palms along my pants.
He untucked one of the flaps and opened the top before flipping it over and letting its contents fall into his hand. His brows arched as he looked back to me. “It’s a key,” he said.
I nodded.
“For where?”
“Here.”
Elliott didn’t look any less confused. “I already have a key for your place. You gave me a spare when I moved in, remember?”
“True.” I pointed a finger to his hand. “But that’s your key,” I continued. My heart was pounding against my chest and I could hear the blood rushing in my ears. “Your key as in I want you to move in. Permanently.”
His face started to flush and a huge smile spread across it. “Permanently?”
An emotion-filled chuckle escaped me. “Elliott, I love you. I want to live together. Raise Myles together. I want us to be a family together. Permanently.”
Elliott gasped and covered his mouth with his hand. His eyes started to glisten and he quickly wiped away the building tears as he nodded his head. “I love you too.”
My heart started to warm and my stomach fluttered. My head felt light and each breath was in ecstasy.
“Let’s do it. Live together. Be a family.”
I could feel my own eyes start to water and I blinked away the tears. “Yeah,” I said. “Let’s do it.” I slid down the couch until I was sitting right next to Elliott and I leaned in to give him a kiss.
Our hands clasped and Elliott nestled his head against my shoulder. I looked down to our little bundle of joy, still fast asleep, cradled in his arm. With the love of my life cuddled by my side and our surprise Christmas miracle bundled in his blankie between us, I knew the best presents didn't come gift wrapped. They came in the most tender and vulnerable moments of life when you were surrounded by the people you loved.
23
Epilogue
I walked down the hall, my feet landing quietly on the mahogany flooring. In the living room, there were a few logs burning in the fireplace, filling the room with a pleasant warmth and the smell of pinewood. I quickly made my way to the kitchen, glancing outside at the snow-covered street. I could practically feel the frigid air from here. I pulled my housecoat tighter, thankful that Clay had remembered to start the fire.
“You’re up early.” I planted a kiss on Clay’s cheek.
“Just wanted to make today special,” he said, giving me a quick hug. “Breakfast is over on the table. I’ll be over in a second.”
“Why hello there mister, hungry for breakfast?”
Myles looked up at me from his white and blue high chair, giggling as he reached his hands out to try to grab my nose. I gave him a kiss on the forehead and stared into his dark brown eyes. They were just like his father’s.
“I swear I think we’ve struck genetic gold or something,” I said to Clay as he walked his way towards us, two glasses of orange juice in hand. “Are we 100% sure we took the right one?”
“Let’s be honest, he had a huge advantage, it’s not like everyone is as good looking as you,” he said with a wink. I loved everything this man said to me, even if it was cheesy beyond belief.
Clay had made a small feast, complete with two kinds of pancakes, three types of eggs, and so much cooked meat that the butcher must have been closed today. I sat down next to Myles, feeding him his formula, while managing to scoop a massive bite of bacon and eggs into my mouth.
“You know there’s no way either of us is going to finish this right?” I said, swallowing another bite of eggs. It seemed that Clay had once again gotten a little too over confident in the kitchen.
“No, don’t worry, Myles says he wants to join an eating competition. This is just practice!” he said with a massive grin on his face, “Hey, stop rolling your eyes, that was funny!”
It was funny, but there was no way in hell I was going to let him know. I knew that as soon as I laughed at one of his stupid jokes he would just keep them coming. He always turned into a stand-up comedian whenever I gave him the chance.
“I can’t tell if your dad jokes have gotten better or worse in the last year. Were you always like this or do dads just automatically lose their sense of humor as soon as they have a kid?” I said, donning a smile across my face, “Even Myles doesn’t laugh at your jokes and he’ll laugh at his own feet.”
Myles proved my point, sending out a giggle as he tried to grab my nose again.
“Point taken,” Clay said, pouting in that cute way he likes to do when he knows I’m right.
“So, are we ready fo
r presents?” I asked with a smile, taking the last bite of my pancake. “Or should I say are you ready for presents, mister?” Myles looked at me, confused but as excited as ever. Money had been a little tight this year, and instead of buying each other some needlessly expensive gift again, Clay and I had decided to make this Christmas about Myles. I picked him up and brought him into the living room, sitting him by the tree. Clay followed us in, and as he dropped onto the couch, he grabbed me by the waist and pulled me onto his lap.
“Sometimes I just stop and realize that I somehow manage to love you more and more every day,” he said, nuzzling his face into the back of my neck.
For all of his awful jokes, Clay somehow always knew what to say when it counted the most. We sat there for a moment, enjoying each other’s company and taking in the calm Christmas morning. Oh, how far we had come. Clay’s stubble scratched my cheek as he let go of my waist, sitting me onto the couch beside him.
Clay grabbed a few of Myles’ presents, setting them onto the ground. For such a small baby, Myles sure could cause a mess. In minutes, the ground was littered with wrapping paper, and his brand-new toys were piled up in heaps around him. Myles’ Sesame Street Talking Elmo seemed to stare at him in total dismay, all too aware of the fate that lay before him. There was no way in hell that Elmo was making it out of Myles’ grasp alive. Before long, Myles had completely forgotten about his dump truck, building blocks, and race cars. He had instead shifted his attention onto the most impressive gift of all—a nice big cardboard box.
“That settles it,” I finally said, “next year he’s just getting the boxes.”
I sat up from the couch and went into the kitchen to make a couple mugs of hot cocoa. I put the kettle on the stove and quickly snuck back down the hall, making sure to step over the notoriously creaky fourth floorboard. I grabbed the pink and blue gift-wrapped box in the back of the bedroom closet and crept back into the kitchen, just as the water came to a boil. I poured the hot cocoa, making sure not to spill any as my hands shook ever so slightly. Even after all of this time, telling Clay something like this still made me nervous.