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“Because, Ava, the Edwards’ gene is strong.”
I wish she would open her eyes, but as she continues to sleep peacefully in my arms, I can’t help but think just how perfect this moment is.
“Emerald Charlotte Carter,” I say out loud.
“Oh, honey,” Mom almost chokes, “you don’t have to.”
I look up at Austin, his gaze so loving and pure. “Needs one more adjustment…”
“Oh?” Me and Mom mouth at the same time.
“Emerald Charlotte Edwards-Carter,” Austin tells us. “The full circle.”
Twenty-Two
Austin
It’s not unusual for laboring women to arrive at the ER almost every day. During my time working at this hospital, I’ve assisted in multiple deliveries that never made it to the delivery suite.
I just never expected Ava to be the one to walk through those doors and with Romano out of all people.
And at only thirty-four weeks gestation.
There was no time to even get angry at Will for arguing with Ava. It was my job to remain calm throughout the whole ordeal.
No matter what the team tried, nothing was going to stop this baby from coming. Ava had dilated, ready to push.
And that she did, at exactly 10:47 a.m.
The hardest part of being inside the room was controlling this overwhelming feeling of unconditional love for our baby while battling the statistics I know come with premature babies. Thankfully, she checked out healthy in all areas we were concerned about.
Ava finally gets to feed Emmy, and I’m glad we both agreed to the name. In fact, Ava thought it fit her perfectly.
Emerald Charlotte Edwards-Carter.
My daughter.
It still feels surreal.
The lactation nurse assists Ava with nursing as I watch on, trying to retain the information but mesmerized by our baby enjoying her first feed. Ava’s milk is yet to come in though it doesn’t stop her from feeding.
“How does it feel?”
Ava purses her lips. “Weird. How long does a woman breastfeed for?”
“It’s completely up to the individual,” I inform her.
Charlie shuffles beside us, stroking Emmy’s hair gently. “You and Amelia were about six months. With Addison, I suffered from mastitis, so she pretty much went straight to formula. As for Alexa, she was about a year.”
Ava laughs faintly. “Addison is the smart one. Maybe the experts are wrong? Breastfeeding doesn’t equal intelligence. I mean, look at Alexa.”
Charlie presses her lips flat, trying to hide her smirk. “Alexa is gifted in other areas.”
“Texting friends doesn’t count, Mom,” Ava quips.
Ava mentioned Alexa going through her wild phase, leaving the sordid details out of our conversation. At the time, I laughed, thinking Lex had it tough. But then it dawns on me that I have a daughter now, and I will probably be in Lex’s position one day.
Suddenly, it’s no longer a laughing matter.
