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My heart is full. Fuller than I ever knew it could be.
I want her back here. I want to feel her little body nestled against my chest.
“She’s beautiful,” Miles says, voice raspy.
“Perfect,” I whisper.
After a few moments, the nurse returns with a still-crying Emmie. “Want to hold her, Mom?”
“If I can,” I say, looking down at the small amount of my body on this side of the curtain.
“We’ll nestle her right in there.”
She plops her on my chest and puts some warm blankets over her. I rest one hand on her back and look at her sweet little face. Her hair is like Miles’s, and she has his warmer skin tone. Her eyes are a beautiful dusty blue I expect will change in time like most newborn’s do.
“Hi, Emmie,” I say softly. Her little eyes dart around, then focus on me. Her cries subside, and I have to bite my lip to keep from crying. I did that. With my voice and my body, I comforted her.
“Hey, sweet pea,” Miles says, resting his hand on her back and dipping his head down to look at her. She looks at him too. “You are beautiful, Emmie Mae. Daddy loves you.”
“Sounds like we have a name,” the nurse says.
“Emmie Mae Hyun-Hansen,” I say.
Miles laughs, not looking away from our little girl. “I can write that out if you need me to.”
“We’ll have you fill out some paperwork when she goes to the recovery room.”
“Amelia, you’re going to feel some pulling now as we close you up,” the doctor says.
“Okay,” I say, my eyes still on Emmie, whose little mouth is moving furiously, maybe looking for my boobs. I didn’t make any specific decisions about breastfeeding, only that I wanted to give it a shot and see how it goes.
Whoa. Pulling is an understatement. It’s a crazy tugging feeling that makes me want to jump out of my own skin. I take another breath and focus on Emmie. I stroke my thumb across the skin of her neck as she mouths my chest.
“I think she’s hungry,” Miles says.
“You can try nursing her in the recovery room,” a nurse says. “Right now, we’re going to pass her over to Dad so they can get you moved to recovery.”
“Okay,” I say reluctantly. I don’t want to let her go. But as soon as the nurse wraps her up and sets her in Miles’s arms, I’m filled with joy. Even though I miss her, the pure happiness radiating off him fills my heart.
When the doctor told me I was pregnant, I couldn’t have imagined this moment or how incandescently happy I would feel. I thought I was destined to be alone, maybe one day be a single mom, but the universe had other plans, and now I have a family more beautiful than I ever could’ve dreamed.
Miles
I am in love. Obsessed. An emotional wreck. My heart now lives outside my body in our eight-pound, three-ounce, twenty-inch-long baby girl.
“Emmie Mae,” I sing, rocking her back and forth in my arms as a nurse settles Amelia in the recovery room. I watch as they wrap her in a large bubble blanket that is heated to help get her body temperature back where it should be.
Emmie’s eyes are on me as I sway back and forth. She is beautiful. She has an adorable little nose like Amelia’s and the same big wide eyes. I can’t wait to see what color they’ll end up, though the soft blue they are now mixed with her brown hair is absolutely adorable.
Yeah, I’m an absolute sucker and head over heels for this little girl.
Now that Amelia is settled in her bubble blanket, her longing gaze turns to us.
I brush my lips over Emmie’s head. “I think Mommy wants to snuggle with you, sweet pea. And you seem hungry.”
“Can I feed her now?” Amelia asks the nurse.
The nurse smiles and adjusts the blanket so there’s room on Amelia’s chest. “We can try.”
