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He had a point. I was giving him the business while he was in the middle of handling a situation he was most likely still in a state of shock from.
I gave myself a moment to chill out, to let Andy finish nursing, and unlatch him.
“Don’t forget to burp him,” Noah said. He winced as soon as he spoke the words. “Not trying to do the parenting for you. But it’s impossible to be a vet at this stuff and not offer advice.”
I decided to take his advice in the spirit in which it was given – tensions were already high enough. I carefully turned Andy over, resting him stomach down on my shoulder and gently patting his back. It didn’t take long before a tiny little burp sounded from his mouth.
I couldn’t help but smile at how cute it was.
“Just remember,” he said. “If a newborn’s crying, it’s either because they’re hungry or tired or need a change – that’s the case ninety-nine percent of the time. The other one percent is they need a burp.”
A small grin formed on his lips.
“Thanks.”
I pursed my lips, knowing there was something more that needed to be said.
“Thanks for being there.”
He scoffed. “I’ve hardly ‘been there’ – you’re the one who’s been doing all the hard work of carrying these two.”
“I mean now. This is all hard enough for me to process, and I can’t imagine what it’s like for you. But the fact that you didn’t hesitate for a second before stepping up to be a dad again… means a lot.”
Noah nodded. “These are my kids, and I’m going to be a father to them. I know what it’s like to be a single parent. It isn’t easy.”
“Co-parenting or whatever,” I said. “We can figure it out in time. But the important thing is that we’re here now, you know the truth, and we’re going to make this work. Right?”
“Right. These two are going to get a lot of love, and that’s all that matters.”
Emmy finished the bottle, and in a quick, smooth movement, Noah set it down on the table and brought Emmy to his shoulder, giving her a gentle pat. It didn’t take long before a tiny, adorable burp sounded from her. Once that was done, he held her close, rocking our little girl until she curled up into him, falling asleep.
Noah rose slowly so as not to disturb her, then gently set Emmy down in the bassinet.
“Sweet dreams, gorgeous,” he said in a soft voice.
I could already tell I’d never get tired of watching Noah with our children.
Once she was down, he flicked his eyes over to Andy.
“Want me to put him down, too?”
I glanced down at Andy, who seemed perfectly content to sleep curled up at my breast.
“I think he’s good here. But thanks.”
He nodded. Instead of sitting down, however, he stayed standing. A tinge of concern appeared on his handsome face.
“What is it?”
“Cammy.”
Just the mention of his daughter was enough to make my stomach tighten with anxiety. What the hell were we going to do about Cammy?
The more I sat there with the idea of her in my mind, the more panicked I became. My heart began to beat faster, my anxiety rising. Noah seemed to sense this, calmly stepping over and placing his hand on my shoulder. As much as I might have wanted to pretend I didn’t need him to feel better, his presence and touch went a long way.
I breathed deeply and slowly, repurposing my labor breathing exercises to deal with the worry that the mention of Cammy’s name had brought forth. Between the breathing and Noah’s hand on my shoulder, I began to calm down. All the same, there were tears in my eyes. I quickly wiped them away before Noah could see them.
“It’s fine,” he said. Then he chuckled. “Well, not really.”
