39. Roman #2
I rush around the car and help her out before stealing the nearest wheelchair I can find.
The baby bag hangs off my shoulder whilst I wheel her through the hospital like somebody’s actively hunting us.
The maternity ward is warm, bright and somehow far calmer than I feel inside my own body.
Midwives move around us with practised ease whilst Fae gets settled into the bed and monitors are strapped around her stomach.
At some point, I press play on our Spotify playlist just to fill some of the silence because if I have to sit here listening to every pained sound she makes without distraction, I might genuinely lose my fucking mind.
I don’t think I stop touching her once. My hand stays wrapped around hers whilst the other rubs her thigh, her back, her stomach. I just need to be touching her.
Hours pass in a blur of contractions, breathing exercises and me repeatedly offering completely useless suggestions that earn me increasingly threatening looks from my wife.
At one point a midwife calmly tells me Fae needs to conserve her energy and I genuinely have to stop myself from asking if there’s a way somebody else can do the pushing for her instead.
Eventually the room falls quieter between contractions. Fae’s hair sticks to her forehead and exhaustion clings heavily to every part of her body as she grips my hand weakly. Then suddenly her whole face changes.
“I have to push.”
Panic shoots through me so fast I nearly smack the call button off the wall trying to press it.
“She has to push,” I announce the second the midwife walks back into the room.
The midwife smiles far too calmly for my liking whilst the entire room suddenly shifts into motion around us.
Another midwife appears beside her almost instantly and equipment starts moving around the bed whilst overlapping voices fill the room.
Drawers open. Gloves snap into place. Instructions are given so casually you’d think everybody here wasn’t preparing for the most terrifying moment of my entire fucking life.
“Okay, on the next contraction I want you to push for me, Fae. Can you do that?” Mandy, our midwife, says gently and Fae lets out a shaky whimper.
“Yes,” she nods weakly as her body sinks back against the bed for the few precious seconds of rest between contractions.
By the fifth push, our Spotify playlist suddenly cuts off mid-song.
“PLAY SOME MUSIC!” Fae cries out to the room and I practically launch myself toward the speaker before smashing the shuffle button with zero thought whatsoever.
‘I Say a Little Prayer by Aretha Franklin’ immediately fills the room.
The sound of it hits me so hard I stumble before making my way quickly back toward the bed.
My heart pounds against my ribs as I grip Fae’s hand again and for one impossible moment, it feels so much like Mum is here with us that my throat almost closes over.
I can practically see her dancing around the kitchen singing into wooden spoons whilst flour covered the counters and one of us got yelled at for stealing icing before dinner.
Another cry tears from Fae and my attention snaps straight back to her.
I grip her hand tighter whilst brushing damp strands of hair away from her face.
“Do you hear that?” I whisper against her ear. “Mum’s here with us. She wants you to know you’re doing so well, Tink.”
A sob breaks from her as her head drops back against the pillow. Tears gather in her eyes whilst she looks up at me completely overwhelmed and I gently wipe them away with my thumb.
“I wish she was here,” her bottom lip wobbles.
“Me too,” I swallow around the lump in my throat.
“You’re doing so well, mama,” the midwife says softly. “We can see the head now, just two more pushes.”
Another contraction crashes through Fae hard enough that her entire body tenses beneath it.
A raw cry tears from her chest as she arches slightly off the bed, fingers crushing painfully around mine whilst she bears down with everything she has.
The sound of her pain slices straight through me and panic floods my body all over again because I have never felt so helpless in my entire life.
“You’ve got this, Tink,” I whisper desperately whilst pressing my forehead against hers. “You’re doing so fucking well.”
A sharp cry suddenly cuts through the room, and my head snaps up so fast my neck cracks.
Holy fucking shit.
He’s tiny.
So fucking tiny.
Dark wet hair is plastered to his head whilst his little face scrunches angrily as another cry leaves him, fists flexing wildly in the air like he’s already got an attitude problem. My entire chest caves in on itself at the sight of him.
“That’s your son,” Mandy smiles warmly.
My son.
Jesus Christ.
The midwife barely has time to clean him before placing him straight onto Fae’s chest and I physically have to bite down hard on my lip because the sight in front of me is almost too much for my brain to process.
Blood still stains Fae’s skin, tears cling to her lashes and exhaustion is written across every inch of her body, but she looks down at our son like he hung the stars in the sky.
And suddenly every terrifying thing we’ve ever survived feels worth it just to get here.
Fae glances up at me with tears in her eyes. “He’s here,” she whispers.
I nod because I genuinely don’t trust myself to speak.
The room softens after that. The midwives continue moving around us calmly whilst Mandy helps clean Fae up and checks the baby over, between explaining things neither of us properly absorb because we’re too busy staring at him.
His cries slowly quiet against Fae’s chest as I cut the cord with shaking hands.
I look back to see Fae crying and I think I might be too. Honestly, I can’t tell anymore.
Eventually the room quiets properly and the midwives slip out to give us a moment alone. I just stare at the tiny little human curled against Fae’s chest and try to comprehend the fact he’s ours.
Fae looks up at me softly. “Do you want to hold him?”
The panic that shoots through my body is genuinely embarrassing. “What if I drop him?”
“You won’t drop him.”
“He’s really small, Fae.”
A tired laugh leaves her as she carefully lifts him toward me anyway. The second he settles into my arms, the entire world goes silent.
Oh.
Oh, this is what people mean.
His little body fits perfectly against my chest whilst his breathing stays soft and uneven against my arm. He smells clean and warm and new and I swear to God I have never loved anything the way I love him in this exact moment.
“Hi, little man,” I whisper thickly. “I’m your dad.”
A knock suddenly sounds at the hospital door before it swings open hard enough to hit the wall.
“IS THE BABY OUT?” Riggs yells before Victor physically shoves him sideways out the doorway.
The rest of the group spills into the room behind them carrying balloons, flowers and enough gift bags to suggest they’ve robbed an entire shop on the way here.
Robyn looks slightly apologetic whilst Felix stands beside her holding a huge bouquet of flowers and grinning properly for the first time in months.
“How the fuck did you even know?” I ask immediately.
Atlas shrugs calmly. “I hacked the hospital system for updates.”
“…You what?”
“I only breached three firewalls.”
Fae starts laughing from the hospital bed whilst the entire group crowds closer trying to get a look at the baby. Robyn reaches us first, leaning down to kiss Fae softly against the forehead.
“How are you feeling?” she asks gently.
“Slightly like I’ve been hit by a bus,” Fae admits weakly before glancing down at the baby. “Do you want to hold him?”
Robyn’s whole face softens instantly. “Really?”
Fae nods and I reluctantly pass him over whilst every protective instinct inside me starts screaming.
Fuck.
I thought watching people touch Fae was bad enough over the years but somehow watching somebody else hold my son feels even worse. My entire body stays tense as Robyn cradles him carefully against her chest and the rest of the group crowds around her.
“He’s so tiny,” Atlas says quietly.
“Oh my God,” Riggs wipes aggressively beneath his eyes. “He’s so cute. I was worried he’d come out looking like Felix.”
“I hate all of you,” Felix mutters.
Victor reaches down and gently touches the baby’s hand with one finger looking completely awestruck whilst Felix stares at the baby like he can’t quite believe he’s real.
“What did you name him?” Robyn asks softly whilst rocking him gently.
Fae looks toward me with a smile before turning back toward the group.
“His name is Finn Robin Longstaff.”
Robyn gasps. “After me?”
Her voice wobbles slightly as she presses a kiss against his tiny forehead.
“After the two strongest women, no, people we know,” Fae says softly.
I smile as I look down at my son.
“Looks like we’ve got another Fi in the group now.”