Page 3 of Chasing Honor

“I’m sorry, Dad.”

“A little late for sorry, don’t you think?” I didn’t answer, not that he was expecting me to. “You have no idea what it means to be a parent. The sacrifice, the sleepless nights, the fucking worry your kid is gonna pull some stupid shit.” He stopped and shook his head. “Think long and hard about this. Once you do it, there’s no going back, ever.”

“I have thought about it.”

“No, son, I don’t think you have. I think you were so wrapped up in working your way through all the available cheerleaders you never stopped to think about shit.”

“You’re right, Dad. I hadn’t thought about it then. But I’ve thought of nothing else since Chrissy told me. It’s all I can think about. I’ve thought about how I’d feel knowing my kid was out there somewhere being raised by strangers. I can’t do it, you might as well rip my fucking heart from my chest, Dad. I can’t breathe thinking I’ll have a child I’ll never know or hold or watch grow up. Adoption is not an option for me. Then, I thought about how you and Mom and Carter would look at me knowing I didn’t have the balls to stand up and be a man.”

“Christ, you don’t make this easy.” My dad’s face twisted, and he offered me his hand. I cautiously took it, and he tugged my arm, making me stumble forward. “Welcome to fatherhood, son. I’m still pissed the fuck off, but I couldn’t be prouder of you.”

* * *

“You’re doing great, Chrissy,” I told her.

“I’m too tired,” she whined.

“Almost there. The doctor said one more push and you’d be done.”

It hadn’t taken one more push, it had been closer to ten more. Mr. and Mrs. Krier, Chrissy’s parents, were in the waiting room along with my family, making it hard to concentrate on Chrissy. Things were tense between our families, although both sides had tried to keep interactions as respectful as they could. The Krier’s had sold their house in Georgia and were moving to Arizona for a fresh start. I was still in shock Chrissy was really going through with signing over her parental rights to me. I’d been holding onto some sort of stupid hope she’d want to be a part of our baby’s life. But she’d refused. She was completely disconnected from the baby. Even at the ultrasound she wouldn’t look at the monitor. I didn’t understand how she could do this. It took everything inside of me to stop myself from yelling at her and telling her how hurt and angry I was.

“It’s a girl,” the doctor announced. “Ethan, would you like to cut the cord?”

I pried my hand from Chrissy’s hulk-like grip and took the surgical scissors from the nurse. I barely remembered cutting the cord, my daughter’s tiny body holding my attention.

I had a daughter.

I was a dad.

She was so small and screaming her slime-covered head off.

“Should she be crying like that?” I asked.

“She’s exercising her lungs,” the nurse smiled and took my daughter from the doctor, walking over to the scale where she weighed her and measured her length before placing her in the prepared bassinet. “Would you like to put on your first diaper?”

“Yes.” I stepped forward and waited for the nurse to clean her off with a washcloth. When she was finished she moved to the side, allowing me to touch her for the first time.

I had no clue what I was doing, and the nurse took pity on me.

“You won’t hurt her, just be careful not to cover the cord clamp with the diaper. You’re doing great. Roll down the top of the diaper and fasten it.” I did as instructed, and next the nurse taught me how to properly swaddle her, explaining that babies like to be “snug as a bug in a rug.” “You can pick her up now.”

I must’ve looked as stupid as I felt, and the she laughed. “Go on, Ethan. Just pick her up, support her neck and hold her close to you so she can feel you. You can talk to her too you know.”

“Hey, baby,” I whispered after I had her situated in my arms. “I’m your daddy.” I kissed the top of my daughter’s head and, for the first time in a long time, I felt tears rolling down my cheeks.

If someone would’ve told me an hour before I could love something so much, so thoroughly and completely in the matter of seconds I would’ve laughed. But holding my baby girl for the first time, I knew I’d never loved someone so much.

I walked back to Chrissy’s side, the doctor had taken her legs down, and she was covered with a blanket, her face turned away from me.

“Chrissy? Would you like to hold her?”

“No.” Her voice was flat, and she refused to look at us.

“You sure?” I tried again.

“No, Ethan. She’s yours, just take her away. Please.” She sounded dead inside, and, for the first time since it all started, I realized how hard this was on her. She wasn’t ready to be a mom, but she’d quelled her own feelings to give our child life. Whether she wanted to admit it or not, that was what being a mom was, loving and sacrificing for your child.

Careful to balance the baby in my arms I leaned down and kissed the side of Chrissy’s head.