Chapter 31
Chapter Thirty-One
Damien
I bent down, my forehead to hers. “You’ve got this. You can do anything. You took heartbreak and turned it into something beautiful, sweetheart. If you can do that, you can deliver our daughter.”
“You’re a lunatic!” she shouted.
“I’m your lunatic.” I smiled.
“This is it, Willa. The final push,” Dr. Cassidy said.
Leaning over, I saw the baby’s head and gasped when I saw all her dark hair. Shit. There was no way I was telling Willa. She guaranteed herself a bald baby, and somehow, she’d find a way to blame me for our daughter’s head of hair.
With one more fierce push, the room filled with a cry. A loud, tiny, perfect cry. Our baby was here.
Willa collapsed back on the bed. “Oh my God.”
I stared at our daughter, like I had just witnessed a miracle and an exorcism at the same time. “You did it, sweetheart. She’s gorgeous. Just like her mom.” I kissed her lips.
“Dad, do you want to cut the cord?” Dr. Cassidy asked.
“Definitely.” I grinned.
After I cut the cord, the nurse wrapped Daisy in a blanket and handed her to Willa. Tears filled both our eyes at our little miracle.
“Hi, Daisy.” Willa smiled. “You are so perfect, and I love you so much. But for the love of God, child. Why do you have so much hair? You were supposed to be bald like your daddy and I were. Look at her tiny hands, Damien. Take your shirt off,” she said.
“Excuse me?” My brows furrowed.
“Take your shirt off if you’re going to hold our daughter. Remember, skin-to-skin contact is very important.”
I removed my shirt and sat in the chair next to Willa’s bed. She handed me the baby, and I sat back and slowly rocked her as I held her against my bare chest.
The nurses buzzed around the room quietly while Dr. Cassidy tended to Willa. I stared down at my daughter—something I never thought I’d have in a million years. A tear streamed down my cheek. Not just any tear. A full-blown ugly cry—mouth twitching and all.
“Oh my God, Damien. Are you?—”
“I can’t help it. She’s so small and pink. She looks just like you. But somehow, I feel like she’s terrifyingly judgmental. She gets that from me.”
“Well, she’s already disappointed in your Spotify playlists. I can see it on her little face,” Willa said, and I laughed.
“You’re incredible. You did this, sweetheart. You brought our baby into the world.”
“Yeah,” she winced as the doctor stitched her up. “I also tore, screamed at you, and threatened to murder you mid-push.”
“None of that matters. I know it was the pain talking. You were absolutely perfect.”
“Don’t lie, Damien. I wanted to leave you lying on the floor or pushed out into the hallway if you passed out.”
“You’re still perfect, sweetheart.”
“You once told me that nobody is perfect.” She smiled, reaching her hand over and placing it on Daisy’s arm.
“You’re the one exception in the world.” I winked.
Willa grabbed the nurse’s attention right before she was about to leave the room.
“Do you guys have any snacks? Now that I pushed my baby out, I’m starving, and my husband over here is sobbing like he just watched The Notebook for the first time.”
“I never watched The Notebook, Willa,” I said.
“Top of the list when we’re up all night with Daisy.” She grinned.
“Of course, Mrs. Blackwood. I’ll be right back.” Nurse Giselle told her.
A few moments later, the nurse handed her a Sprite and a pack of graham crackers.
“Thank you. I’ll name our next child after you.”
“Next child?” I looked at Willa.
“Just kidding. Probably. Maybe. We’ll see how well you behave during diaper duty.” She smirked. “Oh, I just had an idea for another box! Born From Chaos—A Labor & Delivery Kit. And Possibly Trauma Therapy Starter Pack. ”
As I stared at my wife, cracking jokes minutes after giving birth, and my beautiful daughter snuggled against my chest, I was undeniably wrecked, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.
* * *
One Week Later
The baby was still awake.
Still.
Awake.
We were in sleep or die mode.
“I think she’s broken,” Willa said. “Do you think we can reboot her?”
“You’re delirious from lack of sleep, sweetheart.”
“She’s been screaming for three hours, Damien.” Willa paced the bedroom, bouncing the baby on her shoulder. “Shh, sweet girl. We love sleep. Sleep is our friend. Sleep is not the enemy.”
“She’s training us, Willa. She’s wearing us down like a tiny war criminal,” I sleepily said.
“Okay. We’re out of ideas. She’s been fed, rocked, burped, swaddled, and bounced like a damn Pilates ball,” Willa said, setting Daisy in her bassinet.
“We haven’t tried begging yet,” I said.
“Like, down on our knees?” Willa glanced at me.
We both got down on our knees in front of the bassinet.
“We’ll give you everything. College. Therapy. Your own glitter empire. Please, just go to sleep,” I begged, softly rubbing her belly.
She let out a tiny yawn and closed her eyes. Willa and I looked at each other and quietly stood up.
“We’re never talking again,” Willa whispered.
“We’re never sleeping again,” I whispered back. “We have about thirty minutes before she wakes up. Hurry.”
We both carefully climbed into bed. Willa snuggled into me as I held her tight. The closing of my eyes felt good. And just as I drifted into a deep sleep, my eyes flew open when I heard a whimper.
“Please go back to sleep. Please go back to sleep.” I chanted in my head.
Our demon child didn’t listen as she let out a full-blown, earth-shattering scream.
“Well, we had a good run,” Willa said, throwing back the covers.