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We debated for a while about the name. I never had any baby names picked out in my head and just figured we’d settle on what sounded natural. Then Mallory sent me a text one night with a picture she’d taken from an old diary of Brooklyn’s that she’d found. It had a list of baby names with two of them circled several times with the word “favorite” in pink highlighter. So I took the picture and framed it. I gave it to her as part of her push present, and the moment she saw it, she burst into tears. That’s when we knew we had the name.
“Why don’t you try to get a little nap in?”
She closes her eyes and attempts to sleep. I can’t help but smile at her as I cherish these final moments of just us before our entire world changes.
“Okay, Brooklyn, let’s check you again.” She stirs awake as the doctor comes back in. “Looks like we are pretty much there. You ready to push?”
Panic flashes across her face briefly before her eyes catch mine and I mouth the words badass woman. She smiles and nods. “Yes, yes, I’m ready.”
One hour and three minutes later, our baby girl is here. We’re both sobbing as the doctor pulls her from Brooklyn, cleaning her off and placing her on Brooklyn’s chest.
“She’s here . . . she’s really here,” she whispers as we both stare in disbelief.
“She looks exactly like you, thank God,” I laugh through tears as I stroke her tiny red hand.
My heart feels so full, like at any moment it might explode. I never understood when people said they didn’t realize they could love somebody so much, but I do now.
After examining Brooklyn while she has skin-to-skin contact with our daughter, the doctor does a physical assessment of the baby before handing her back to us. I unbutton my shirt and place her against my chest. I close my eyes, breathing in this moment. I know the second we tell our family she’s here, it’s going to be a circus with all of them wanting to meet her and check on Brooklyn.
Finally, after everything, we have a few moments alone.
“Hey, daddy.” Brooklyn stares at me in awe as I hold our baby. “How does it feel?”
“Unreal. I feel like I still can’t believe you were pregnant, and now we have an entire baby.” We both laugh, because it really does feel like only yesterday we were flirting and trying to convince ourselves that this was just a hookup. Or at least . . . I was.
“I assume Trent told everyone at work after we left for the hospital?” she asks.
“Actually, I threatened to kill him if he did. And who knows if Ranger or Jackie or Nilsa said anything. I haven’t checked my phone.”
I place her back in Brooklyn’s arms and pull my phone out. I have 11 texts and six missed calls from Trent. I open my camera and take a photo of Brooklyn holding her and send it to Trent.
Me: You can sound the alarm now. Baby girl is here.
“Can you send it to my family too? I know they’re going to want to catch the next flight, but I’ll call them tomorrow and convince them to wait a few weeks so I can breathe.”
Not even 20 minutes after I hit send, the Slade brood descends on the hospital.
“Hey, guys, please just be very quiet and calm. Brooklyn is exhausted, so try not to stay too long in there. Only a few at a time, okay?”
“You sure you don’t want to present her Lion King-style? You know, Pride Rock?” Trent pretends to hold a baby up over his head and Logan and Decker burst into laughter.
“Please don’t reproduce,” I say as he follows me down the hallway with my parents.
We open the door and my mom instantly bursts into tears.
“Mom, Dad, Trent . . . meet Cecilia Roxanne Slade.”
