by Anne Carol
Margaret, who’d been talking with my mom, broke away to ask David, “You want me to take over, son? Give your hands a rest?”
“No, Mum. I can handle it.” His tone was dismissive.
“David, if you need to get up and stretch your legs…” I said.
“—Beth, I’m not leaving your side. I’ve waited over three years for this.”
Me, too.
“Just relax, David,” Margaret said, rubbing his back. “She’ll be fine.”
She knew her son well; the closer I got to giving birth, the more anxious he became. I brought his hand to my lips and kissed the backs of his fingers. “You’re the best husband a woman could ask for.”
His warm brown eyes met mine with a pained stare. “I hope you still feel that way when you’re pushing our baby out.”
Jenny chortled. “David, just ignore everything she says while she’s pushing.”
He raised his eyebrows. “Thanks, Jenny. I’ll keep that in mind.”
“Oh, please. I won’t be that bad,” I argued.
The nurse came in to check on my progress. I was getting used to being poked and prodded with family surrounding me. Once she finished, she announced, “Just a bit longer, and then you can start pushing.” Fantastic. I wanted to shout for joy. I was ready for this to be over. I’d been waiting to see and hold my baby for eight months.
I shared a glance with David, whose face held a glow I’d never seen on him before. He leaned over and kissed me sweetly on the lips. “You’re doing so well, Beth.”
Smiling wide, I reached up to circle my arms around his neck when another contraction started. My face scrunched up, and I grunted loudly.
“Breathe through it, honey,” my mom urged.
Through gritted teeth, I said, “Oh, this one hurts like—!” Sorry, God.
My mom winced but didn’t say anything. She simply breathed along with me, which instantly put me at ease. David’s eyes glistened while his jaw hardened. I knew he was trying to be my rock while fighting his own nerves, so between contractions, I suggested he play a song on the guitar.
“You sure?”
“Yes, play my favorite,” I asked, my voice weak.
He let his fingers slowly slip from mine—like he wasn’t sure about letting me go—and headed for his guitar case.
The first tune, “Here Comes the Sun,” by the Beatles, was followed by the infamous “Angel,” Vinyl Fog’s first hit single, written by David. “Something,” another Beatles song, was next in the impromptu set list. He was really getting into it with The Rolling Stones, “Wild Horses” when the nurse walked in. She clapped her hands and whistled. “Brilliant! Keep playing while I check on your wife’s progress.”
He did just that, but as soon as she announced I was ready to push, he practically threw his guitar back in the case and rushed to my side. Meanwhile, Jenny blew me a kiss. “Bless you,” she called as she ducked out of the room. My mom and Margaret also made for the door, saying they would pray for us. “Love you, honey,” Mom gushed before leaving. “You’ll do great.”
It was time. I caressed my husband’s cheek. “Thank you for the music. Sorry I interrupted ‘Angel’ with my gutter mouth. That contraction hurt worse than anything.”
He grinned and ran his finger down my face. “No need to apologize. Are you ready for this?”
“I’m scared,” I mouthed before biting my lip.
When he kissed my forehead, he lingered a moment. “I’m right here,” he said in a husky voice. I nodded.
As he drew back, I noticed a tear trickling down his face. Oh, David.
During the next contraction, the nurse told me to “bear down.” I was surprised at how instinctual it felt to push; like my body knew exactly what to do. It was the most painful part of childbirth, indescribably painful. But when it was over, David and I would be a three-person family. It was too incredible to fathom. After all the heartache we’d experienced over the past few years, this baby was truly a gift from God.
I put my all into pushing and didn’t care if I got loud. The nurses and doctor didn’t seem fazed at all by my shouting and crying. This was routine for them. David, however, wasn’t handling it so well. He kept hold of my hand, but his face was ashen, and he looked frozen in place.
During a pause in the pushing, I squeezed his hand and asked breathlessly, “You still with me, sweetie? You look like you need some smelling salts.”
His face remained rigid. “I’d give anything to take away your pain.”
“Me, too,” I agreed, causing the nurse to chuckle.
I started pushing again, and David’s grip tightened. In his other hand, he held a damp washcloth, which he brushed across my forehead.
“Thanks,” I breathed, appreciating the cooling sensation. The relief from the cold cloth recharged my batteries, and I pushed harder this time.
“I see the head! Keep going!” the doctor shouted.
David went to get a glimpse, and his eyes grew wide. He laughed excitedly. “He’s almost here, angel!”
Thank you, God. I wept from the pain of the baby moving through the birth canal, and I doubted my insides would ever recover, but when David kissed me and whispered, “Keep going, keep going,” I’d never felt stronger.
Finally, the pressure released as our baby joined the world. I exhaled loudly and fell back against the pillow, panting. The piercing screams filling the room brought more tears, this time of ecstatic joy.
“Congratulations, you have a daughter!” the doctor announced.
My hands flew to my face. “I knew it!”
A watery-eyed David smothered me with kisses, murmuring, “I love you,” and “I can’t believe it,” over and over, until the nurse handed him our daughter. It was a moment I would never forget.
Never in my life had my heart felt so full. I was on top of the world as the doctor handed me a tiny swaddled bundle with a pink hat and said, “Meet your little girl.”
As Beth watched me with a gleam in her eyes, I cradled our baby and stared at her in awe. She’s beautiful, like Beth. “Hi, little one. I’m your daddy, and I love you so much.”
“I want to see her.” Beth’s soft voice interrupted my silent worship of our girl.
Tucking her against me, I sat on the edge of the bed and held her between us. Beth had tears in her eyes, mirroring mine. “She’s so perfect.”
“Tiny as a peanut, isn’t she?”
“Did I hear six pounds, two ounces, nineteen inches?”
“Yeah, just a wee one.” I cuddled her close, staring at her delicate face. I lightly touched her forehead, and she looked up at me. “Hey there, precious,” I whispered.
“You are so cute with her,” Beth said. “I think you’ll be a natural, David.”
“I already want to protect her from everything. Can I just hold her like this until she’s eighteen?”
Beth laughed. “There’s my David.”
We admired our little one together while the nurses cleaned up the afterbirth and checked over Beth. I said a prayer that any pain she had would subside quickly. I walked our daughter around the room while the nurse helped Beth into a fresh gown. Once she was settled back into the bed, I carefully handed her the baby. My heart swelled in my chest at the sight of my wife holding our daughter. “Are you still okay with ‘Christine Elizabeth’?” she asked.
“It’s perfect.” Christine was my great-grandmother’s name, and Elizabeth was, of course, Beth’s given name. “Christine Elizabeth Somers.” I can’t believe I’m a father.
She couldn’t take her eyes off the pink bundle in her arms until she looked up and said, “Why don’t you send in the moms? Or, rather, grandmas?”
My chest tightened at the thought of leaving, if only for a moment. But I knew our moms would want to see Christine as soon as possible. I leaned down and kissed Beth on the forehead. “I love you, sweet girl.”
“I love you, too.” Her smile was like a ray of sunlight.
Jenny was right outside
the door, rubbing her palms together. “We didn’t want anyone recognizing you in the waiting area, so they sent me over. So?”
“It’s a girl.” My face split into a huge grin.
“A girl. Oh, David, congratulations!” Jenny hugged me. “I’ll run and tell the others.”
My head was swimming, and I paused to soak everything in. I couldn’t get over how strong Beth had been. All this time I’d been treating her like a fragile piece of china, ready to break at the slightest touch, but she sure proved me wrong. She had more strength than I ever gave her credit for. I was amazed by my wife.
Returning to her side, I found her cooing to Christine. “We might have a few visitors soon,” I said, pulling her out of her trance.
“I expected that. But just for a few minutes. I want to try to nurse her as soon as possible.”
Tingles ran down my spine at the thought of her nursing Christine. I didn’t think it was possible to love her more, but this new bond we shared made me feel like we were truly united. And my love for our daughter…
It was beyond words.
“May I hold her again?” I asked, taking a seat next to Beth on her bed.
“Of course. But you know you won’t have her for long.”
Just as Beth handed her over, there was a tap on the door, and in came my mum and Sharon. “It’s just us,” Sharon said. “We weren’t sure if you’d be nursing.” Her jaw dropped, and she brought her hands to her cheeks. “Oh, she’s adorable.”
My mum echoed her sentiments, and both women came to the side of the bed. I carefully handed Christine to my mother. “Here’s your girl.”
She had tears in her eyes. “Oh, David and Beth. Thank you for giving me a girl to spoil.” She peered down at Christine. “Oh, little lass, you and I are going to have so much fun together! I’ll teach you to cook, sew, keep a garden,” she went on and on. Beth and I exchanged glances and smiled.
I could only imagine what was going through Beth’s mind. She studied her mother, and I knew she felt guilty that Sharon wouldn’t get to spend much time with Christine and watch her grow up. Beth had mentioned her mother’s disappointment over the fact we lived near my parents, whereas Sharon and Mike were six thousand miles away in California. One of the many challenges of a transatlantic marriage. There wasn’t a way around the struggle, aside from making sure we visited Beth’s parents as often as possible.
Sharon’s eyes glowed as my mum handed her the baby. “Oh, there’s nothing like the fresh smell of a newborn.” She kissed Christine’s forehead. “Hi, Christine. I’m your Grandma Sharon. I can’t wait until you come visit me in California. You have an auntie who would love to meet you soon. She’ll tell you all about whales and dolphins and seals.”
As she continued talking to Christine, Beth smiled. Her mum was referring to Beth’s sister, Rachel, who worked at a marine life center in San Diego. She was dating a fellow marine life enthusiast and surf bum, Joey. “Our moms crack me up,” Beth whispered.
I looked at her and nodded. “Agreed.”
After the grandmas got in their bonding time, I kindly requested some privacy so Beth could try nursing Christine. She was nervous about her first time and didn’t want an audience. It took some effort peeling them away from their granddaughter, but they finally excused themselves. I walked out with them, on the hunt for a nurse to help Beth.
Christine was sleepy, so she fussed while trying to latch on. The whole scene made me cringe. Beth looked tired and frustrated, and I couldn’t stand hearing Christine’s tiny cries. I closed my eyes for a moment. Please, God, help my girls.
“Ouch!” Beth cried, jarring my attention. One glance at her and I knew God had answered my prayer. My wife was now looking down at our daughter with a big smile as the baby suckled. She smoothed her finger over Christine’s cheek. “Good girl,” she whispered, and then met my eyes. Stunning.
After my breath returned, I asked the nurse, “Will it always be this difficult?”
“It shouldn’t be, but it may take a few days of practice before it becomes natural.” She turned to Beth. “Just don’t give up, even if it hurts. The skin will toughen up, and I can give you some cream to help the soreness. Of course, if you have any trouble, you should give your doctor a ring.” Beth nodded, her features softened as if she was completely at peace.
The nurse left the room, and I sat with Beth, brushing her hair back as she nursed Christine. What a lovely picture. I never wanted to forget this perfect image of mother and child bonding. Was I envious? Perhaps. But surely there were other ways Christine and I could bond as father and daughter.
Father and daughter. I’m a father. I grinned and shook my head.
Christine finished nursing and now appeared to be asleep or close to it. Beth handed me my girl, instructing me to hold her upright against my shoulder. “She’s really sleepy, but you can practice burping her.”
Thankfully, Don had taught me how to burp a baby, so I knew what to do. I rubbed Christine’s back as I held her. She felt so fragile yet soft in my arms. I blinked back a few tears. I couldn’t get over how much I loved this little girl; a child created from love on a gorgeous Caribbean island.
I wiped my eyes and took in the moment. Her cheek lay against my shoulder. She seemed so content. Yes, she and I would make many memories together, maybe playing guitar duets one day.
Beth gazed at me, appearing amused. “You should see your face. Wish I had a camera. I can see the wheels turning.”
“Christine, I think your mum is laughing at us.” I cupped the back of her head and brought her down so she lay cradled in my forearms. She peered up at me, staring at me like she was really listening. My pulse picked up speed. She knows I’m her daddy. My smile was so wide I thought my face would break.
“What’re you thinking, Mr. Somers?”
“That this little girl will make an excellent musician someday. Her daddy will teach her everything he knows.”
Beth reached up and fluffed my hair. “You really are adorable.” She chuckled. “Have you recovered yet?”
“Recovered? Me? You’re the one who gave birth.”
“Yeah, but you were looking a bit pale toward the end.”
Heat traveled up my neck. I regretted that she’d seen me like that. I was supposed to be strong for her. “It wasn’t easy watching you experience so much pain. How are you?”
She shrugged. “A little sore, but being here with my husband and daughter, I couldn’t be better.”
I studied her. “Your strength took my breath away. Watching you give birth...” I paused, gathering my words. “I’ll never look at you the same again.”
She raised her brow. “Is that a good thing?”
“Of course. I have a deeper respect for you, Beth. And,” I laughed, “you are a lot tougher than you look.”
“Thanks. But don’t get me wrong. There were moments I wished you were the one giving birth.”
“Well, the point is, you did it, and without much complaint. You women are amazing.”
“Well, it’s a good thing God made us this way. We are pretty amazing.”
Christine made a yelp, almost in agreement with her mother. I shook my head. “I’m really outnumbered here.”
“Get used to it,” Beth said, pinching my cheek.
I knew I’d love every moment of it.
Two nights later, we were snuggled up in bed, with Christine asleep in the bassinet on Beth’s side. It was our first night at home, and I held my wife closely, kissing her nose.
“I’m so happy my girls are home.”
She squeezed my hand. “Yes, your two biggest fans are here, and soon we’ll be with you on tour.”
“I can’t wait to show her off.”
“You mean you’ll let other people near her?” Beth asked with a hint of sarcasm.
“As long as I’m holding her.”
“Aren’t you going to let anyone else hold her?”
“Perhaps in about a year?”
She lau
ghed. In the hospital, I had a tough time handing her over to family and friends, even though she did fine. Brooke told me Don was the same way with Emma and Josh at first. It drove Beth mad, and she promised I’d have plenty of opportunities to be with Christine.
“You’re crazy,” she whispered. “But I love you.”
“I love you, too. Forever.”
“Forever.”
Two hours later a piercing cry startled us awake.
Here we go…
“Is she finally settling down?” I asked David, one leg hanging off the bed in case I needed to get up. I’d nursed Christine until I had nothing left, and she was still fussy. The clock read three in the morning, and I groaned as I watched David pace the hotel room with our daughter in an effort to get her back to sleep.
“I think so,” he said, humming a tune I couldn’t recognize in my haze. How could he be so patient? I was frustrated and desperate for sleep. He should’ve been the same.
“Good, you need your rest, David. I don’t know how you can perform for hours on such little sleep.”
“I get by. I can’t put her down when she’s like this.”
“I know, you’re a total softy with her, but eventually she needs to learn how to self-soothe, or we’ll never get any sleep.”
“Ah…I think she’s out.” David went to her crib and lay her down, pausing for a moment to rub her back. “Sleep, my little lady. Daddy loves you.” He kissed his finger and touched her forehead. Tired as I was, my heart still melted at the sweet gesture. He really was the most caring, loving father I’d ever seen.
She was finally quiet, so David tiptoed back to bed and slipped under the covers. Soon I was wrapped in his arms. Sleep-deprivation and a demanding infant hadn’t diminished David’s affection for me. Some things never changed. I smiled as I curved my arm around his body.
Christine was now five weeks old, and we’d both learned a lot since her birth. First of all, we were amazed at how much love we could possess for one tiny human being. She was our everything. I supposed that went hand-in-hand with our second observation: new parents could survive on very little sleep. We had no choice. Our baby depended on us for so much it boggled my mind. Sometimes it felt like I’d never get a full night’s rest again, but Brooke and Don assured us this stage wouldn’t last forever, and that their three-month-old son, Joshua, was already sleeping through the night. Emma, almost two years old, had long since passed that stage.