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10 days later…

Buzz

It's so wrong of me to have thoughts like this, but up until today, my only experience of women giving birth was what I saw on TV and in movies.

I expected frantic breathing.

I expected screaming.

I expected emotions would be running high.

But the scene inside the St. Croix Regional Health Center isn't chaotic at all. Probably because Elaine elected to have an epidural. She's awake, she's comfortable, and from the moment the epidural kicked in, she hasn't felt an ounce of pain.

I'm glad for her.

She had her heart set on a C-section, but due to a pre-existing condition, her doctor strongly advised against it. Of course, she fought him on it, but Court eventually managed to convince her.

He isn't the doctor in charge obviously, but he's nearby, keeping a close eye on things. I'm nearby, too. The window. Overseeing the comings and goings of the parking lot.

It's not that I'm grossed out by what's happening. In my line of work, I've seen it all. It just feels like a huge invasion of privacy. Elaine and I are already in a weird place, seeing a baby come out of her body would only make things even weirder.

"Okay. It's coming, Mom. I can see the head,"

Court says excitedly, holding her hand.

"You need to push."

It's one of the rare times she obeys without fighting, her face contorting in a grimace as she pushes.

Did I ever imagine raising my half sibling who's also Court's half sibling with him? No. No, I did not.

But despite being unexpected—and a reflection of our highly dysfunctional parents—it's also perfect. This baby is half me, half him, and we're going to make sure that, despite the less-than-ideal circumstances surrounding their conception, we're going to give them all the love in the world.

"You’re doing beautifully,"

the doctor encourages, seated between Elaine's legs.

"I know you're not feeling much, but trust me, your pushes are working. Keep going, keep going. You’re so close.”

Elaine grimaces as she lets out one final push, and then…

The baby’s first cry cuts through the room, loud, raw and so very real.

"You did it, Mom!"

Court cries exuberantly, letting go of her hand to get close to the baby.

Our baby.

The doctor holds the newborn, checks their vitals, and gives a small nod. “Everything looks great.” Right on cue, the baby lets rip with a piercing wail.

"Strong lungs,"

he jokes, passing the screaming baby to the midwife.

I stride over to take my first look.

"It's a boy,"

Court tells me, looping his arm over my shoulder, anchoring me to him like I belong there.

This is what I've always wanted. A partner. A family.

All my dreams are coming true.

My heart is so happy it could burst.

The midwife goes to hand the bub to Elaine.

She hesitates.

Court lets go of me and walks up to the top of the bed.

"It's up to you, Mom. Whatever you want to do."

A tear streams down her cheek.

"I'd like to see him, but I don't think I can hold him."

"That's fine. Whatever you want."

The midwife shows her the baby. The tears intensify, rolling down her cheeks.

"Thank you,"

she mumbles.

The midwife gently turns and looks between Court and me.

"You go first," I say.

"I'm so nervous. I'm afraid I'll drop him."

"You won't, but okay."

Court takes the wrapped-up newborn from the midwife and cradles him in his arms so effortlessly it takes my breath away.

We've talked a lot these past few weeks about some of the more unusual nitty-gritty details we're going to have to address at some stage. This child is our sibling, but kids need parental figures in their lives, especially when they're growing up.

Once he's older, we'll decide how to tackle the nuances of the specific family dynamics he was born into honestly, but for now, we're going to be the dads this little baby needs to feel safe and valued and nurtured as he develops.

"He's beautiful,"

Court murmurs as I latch onto his shoulder and peer down at our baby.

"He is."

"Takes after me,"

we say at the same time.

Our eyes meet.

Court grins.

"Great minds, eh?"

"Yeah."

I gently rub my finger across his black-haired scalp.

"This is real, Court. We're parents. I'm so happy."

"I am, too. I love you, Buzz."

I slide my arm around his waist and press my cheek against his shoulder.

"I love you, too, Court."

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