Page 20 of Insidious

I don’t blame her. It’s cold in here.

“She’s here,” the junior doctor chimes in.

The words don’t feel real.

And then they lift her just enough for me to see—

Tiny. So impossibly tiny and just so perfect.

Dark hair plastered to her head, her skin flushed, little fists clenched like she already has opinions about the world. She is going to rule it.

I am holding my breath now.

“She’s—”

Perfect.

Isaac still looks green.

“I thought there was only one baby.” He sounds faint.

“Oh, we still need to deliver the placenta,” says the nurse with a smile. I can see his eyes go wider. Isaac looks like he needs a vomit bag.

And then the nurse places Amelie on my chest, and he is immediately distracted.

He looks … undone.

Isaac sits beside me now, staring at our precious daughter like she’s the moon on a cloudless night.

“Look at her,” he whispers, not daring to touch.

I turn my head, exhaustion dragging at me, but I won’t miss this for the world.

“She’s so small.”

“She’s got my eyes,” he says, in awe.

“She’s got your everything from your point of view, I bet,” I mutter. “I didn't sign up for that. It has to be 50-50.”

Isaac huffs a relieved laugh. But he doesn’t look away from her.

“Amelie,” he says softly.

We have already decided to name her after his great-grandmother. She was a pilot and a trailblazer. Everyone thought she was mad.

“She’d approve.” I grin. “Reckless women run in your family.”

He smiles at that but doesn’t look at me yet.

***

Later, it’s just the three of us in a little corner room.

The adrenaline has worn off, leaving only exhaustion. I can feel the edges of pain creeping back now, the spinal starting to fade. My left leg feels a little more numb than the right.

I shift slightly and wince.

“Hey,” Isaac says, immediately alert. “You okay?”