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“You ready to meet your little girl, daddy and mommy?” The nurse, Eden, inquires, unaware she just saved my bacon. Or maybe she is and did so to prevent having another patient to take care of.
“Yes,” Ember and I respond in unison. This is our first child, both of us deciding to enjoy some time alone for a while after Nash, Camden, and Riley began making their own marks on the world.
It was the right choice for us and we don’t regret it. However, we are more than eager to hold Margaret Lily, or Maggie as we’ll call her. When Ember suggested naming her after my mom, I couldn’t speak through my tears, so full of love for my wife and her beautiful heart.
I help Ember through her breathing exercises, letting her squeeze my left, and non-dominant, hand to the point I fear she’ll break it. But the pain is worth it when the first cry rings out, telling us our daughter is here.
“You did it, sparky,” I whisper in awe, my eyes never leaving Maggie as the nurses begin cleaning her up before setting her on Ember’s chest.
“She’s perfect,” Ember says, clearly as amazed as I am at what we created. We simply stare at Maggie, unable to believe that she’s here, that she’s ours. “You, my darling girl,” Ember begins as she nuzzles our daughter’s cheek, “will always know you are loved.”
It hurts me that she didn’t get the same assurance from her own dad and mom. We haven’t seen nor heard from them since they left town and while I know she’s better off without them, she longs for a real relationship with them. Especially not that she’s a parent herself.
If they ever decide to be the people she deserves, I will welcome them back. Unless or until they do, they won’t get anywhere near her or our family. Thankfully, she still has her grandpa and grandma and it’s easy to see they adore her and the feeling is mutual. They moved to Becket a few years ago, just a few houses down from us in fact, and are so excited about their first great grandchild they’ve pretty much bought out the local toy store.
Knowing it was their way of trying to make up for their son and daughter-in-law’s absence in Ember’s life, as well as truly being happy for us, we haven’t said a word or asked them to stop. Instead, we’ve convinced them to keep some of the stuff at their house for when Maggie and any we have after her come to visit.
Not that my own grandparents are any better. Between the four of them, none of our children – mine and Ember’s, as well as those Nash, Camden, and Riley might have – will ever want for anything.
“I might be biased,” I tell Ember, “but I think she’s the prettiest baby ever.”
“Then we both are,” Ember says, “because I agree.”
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