Chapter 40 August - Woah, baby
“Push, push, push!” Nurse Paula chants to Daisy while she holds up her right leg.
I’m in charge of the left leg. I swipe the sweat-drenched tendrils of Daisy’s bangs out of her face while she continues to defy the odds, pushing through another brutal contraction.
“Daze, you’re so close. She’s almost here,” I repeat for probably the hundredth time.
“She’s…getting…on my nerves,” Daisy pants, trying to regain control of her breathing. She falls back into the pillows.
“She’s stubborn like her mama,” I joke, pressing a kiss to her head.
We’ve been in this room going on eight hours now. Daisy has been, no surprise to me, an absolute fucking rockstar. Knowing that doesn’t stop me from being in complete awe of her strength and who she is as a person though.
The doctor has come through a couple times to check her progress. While she’s technically early, the baby won’t be considered premature because today is the thirty-seventh week of pregnancy exactly. So as long as things look good once she’s out, there won’t be a need for the NICU.
Daisy refused an epidural even though she’s apparently one of the one-in-four women who experience back labor. Contractions. Through your fucking back. It’s intense.
The doctor—whose name has left me at the moment—lifts from her crouched position at the end of the bed. “Okay, Daisy. I need you to rally, can you do that?”
Daisy’s facial features morph into a serious scowl, a game-day face if I’ve ever seen one.
“Absolutely.”
“Good girl. These are the big ones. The deepest breaths you can muster and then push with everything you’ve got.”
I’m a mere man standing in a room of absolutely legendary women, championing each other to bring actual life into the world. I watch the doctor dish out orders and Nurse Paula continue to cheer Daisy on.
I bring my face to the side of Daisy’s after ensuring I have a good grip on her leg. I run my fingers through her hair.
“I love you. You’re the strongest person I know. You’re going to be the best mother on the fucking planet. I love you, Daze.”
“This is it, Daisy! There’s the head!”
It’s a blur of chants and a guttural scream from Daisy as she heaves one last push.
All of the noise from a second ago gets sucked out of the room like it has a vacuum seal.
And then there’s a cry.
The doctor holds up the smallest, crying baby with a head of thick, black hair. She’s covered in, well—she’s covered in a lot of I don’t fucking know what. And she’s attached to what I know is the umbilical cord, but it’s blue. I really wasn’t prepared for that.
I whip my head to Daisy, who’s laying with her head back sobbing.
I realize I’m sobbing, too, when I press my lips to the side of her face.
I accept a pair of giant scissors being thrusted at me and cut where the doctor is pointing, and then the baby is placed on Daisy’s chest.
Burying my head in the crook of Daisy’s neck, listening to the sound of our baby cry, I try to articulate the euphoria coursing through my body in this moment.
“Fucking hell, Daisy. I’ve never been so in love in my life. You did it. You gave us this. She’s perfect. You’re perfect. I’m—You’re—”
“August,” Daisy whispers with her eyes closed as the wails start to quiet.
“Yeah, darling?”
“Shh.” With one hand on our daughter’s back, she brings the other up to cup my face. She opens those bright blue eyes to look at me, the softest smile on her face. One of my favorite versions of home.
“This is nice.”
She doesn’t need to elaborate. To make a long story short…Everything we survived—the good, bad, messy, chaotic…All of it was worth it for this.
“I don’t know what to do,” Daisy whines. “I mean, this is a big decision! We can’t be expected to just like, decide right now.”
“I think we are, Daze,” I laugh looking down at the birth certificate paperwork in our laps.
The hospital staff showed me mercy when we showed up, and they realized I was not fitting on the small couch they have in the rooms to normally provide to the birthing partners. I wasn’t gonna say anything, I was fine to make do.
But I also didn’t turn down the cot that arrived in our room after the baby was born. I slid that thing right up alongside Daisy’s bed so we’ve been able to somewhat lay together while our daughter sleeps safely and soundly in the little clear bucket of a bassinet next to us.
Our daughter, the perfect and the most beautiful, Kit Magnolia was born in the early evening yesterday at 5:08 p.m. on June twelfth.
Daisy is ecstatic that we’re parents of a Gemini.
I don’t know what the fuck all that means, but I’m ecstatic right alongside her.
Because Kit could be anything: a Gemini, gay, transgender, missing a limb, or growing another head, and I wouldn’t care. She’s everything.
While the rest of the world argues about their children’s first and middle names, Daze and I nailed that portion of things before we left the hotel room in New York however many months ago.
It’s that pesky, legally-required last name we’re stuck on.
Daisy and I both have our own reasons why neither of our current surnames would ever be good enough for our daughter. And every single one of them is valid. That doesn’t help us resolve the issue at hand though.
“Hyphenating isn’t an option,” Daisy says, tapping the paper with a pen.
“And combining them is still dumb, right?” I double-check.
“That would make her a Buriles or a Stirton. Not happening.”
Paula—who is technically a labor and delivery nurse and doesn’t need to be checking in on us in postpartum—sticks her head in our doorway.
“You two still going on about the last name?”
“It’s impossible, Paula!” Daisy sighs loudly.
Daisy latched onto Paula the second we arrived at the hospital. Daisy saw her soft features and heard her calm voice, and it was an immediate connection. She’s the plump and sweet variation of Beth.
“We’ll figure it out, Daisy darling. We always do.” I try to rub her thigh reassuringly.
Paula steps into the room, leaning against the wall with a quizzical look on her face.
“Hmm,” she muses.
“Do you have an idea?” Daisy perks up. “It sounds like she has an idea,” Daisy informs me, shaking my arm.
I sure as shit hope she does. We’ve been going at this for hours with no end in sight because we don’t have a single viable option amongst everything we’ve thrown around.
“Where did the nickname come from?” Paula asks.
“What?” Daisy and I both question at the same time.
“Darling. Is it just a regular ole term of endearment?”
“He’s been calling me Daisy darling for…God, I don’t even know how long.”
“And you two mentioned you’re running off and getting married, right?”
Daisy giggles, and I pull her closer to me.
We keep forgetting about my impromptu proposal yesterday before Kit decided it was time to make her appearance.
I have no regrets, even if it wasn’t some big to-do like Daisy probably could have had if she picked anyone else to shackle herself to.
But she picked me. And it was classic Gus and Daisy behavior.
I bought a ring back when Daisy was still holed up in the city. It’s been tucked away while I’ve been waiting for the right moment. I guess I didn’t plan on the right moment being a time when I wasn’t prepared in the slightest. But I looked at her, and I just knew.
I think I’ve always known.
“Damn straight,” I confirm.
“You could be the Darlings,” Paula suggests. “There’s no rule that says you can’t make your own family name. And with everything you’ve both been through, maybe this is your fresh start.”
A fresh start? The last time I was offered one of those, I gained Sawyer and Beth. This feels just as pivotal.
Daisy laughs, but it dies pretty quickly.
“Wait,” she says. “Paula, that’s—”
“Daisy Darling,” I quietly say. “August Darling. The Darlings,” I test out.
“I…” Daisy pauses and slowly turns her head towards me. Hope blooms in those perfect blue eyes. “I kind of love it.”
Without the need for further discussion, I pluck the pen from Daisy’s hand and carefully write out each letter using my very best handwriting. That doesn’t mean it’s good, just legible.
Daisy leans in, pressing her head into mine, and we stare at the full, official name we picked for our daughter and family.
Kit Magnolia Darling
“Woah,” I exhale.
“I’ll leave the three of you be. Congrats, Darlings,” Paula bids us farewell with a wink.
Kit stirs in the bassinet, and I’m picking her up to cradle in my arms in an instant. This little girl has me wrapped around her finger, and I don’t mind in the slightest.
I look at her mom, the center of my fucking universe, just to soak her in with her pretty eyes, untamable hair, and filthy mouth.
There are probably a million and one reasons why I don’t deserve this kind of happiness. But I’m trying my best to be the kind of man who earns Daisy and Kit and everyone else I love in Merrymount in my life.
I think I’m finally ready to close the chapter of my life that was dedicated to existing on the outskirts.