Chapter 53
Quentin
These last four months have been nothing short of amazing.
After the World Series ended, I officially announced my retirement from baseball. I didn’t know how freeing it would be until it actually happened.
While I would miss the game and my team, my body and brain are happy to finally get a break.
Everyone thinks being an athlete is a walk in the park because we get paid millions to play sports that are fun.
And while that’s true, many don’t understand how physically taxing training is, and staying in shape and working on your skills.
Along with the mental exhaustion that comes with competing professionally.
So, basically, I’m ready to relax now.
Well, maybe not because I’m going to be a dad any day now and I know that brings its own kind of exhaustion.
Teagan and I are more than ready for her to arrive, especially Teagan, who’s more uncomfortable every day it seems like.
We’ve spent the last four months enjoying each other and the holidays.
For Halloween, we went as skeletons, with Teagan painting a baby skeleton on her stomach.
At Thanksgiving, we had dinner with Camille and her friends.
And for Christmas, we hosted it together for the first time at our house where we invited Ian, Camille and Ryker’s family, her friends and mine.
I’m grateful for the time we’ve gotten alone to enjoy one another and begin to build the kind of lives we want to live. But now, we were itching for our girl to be here.
“Teags,” I call out from the bed. “You okay in there?”
“Yes, no, I don’t know,” she says warily, making me shoot out of the bed and into our en suite bathroom.
“What’s—”
I don’t finish my sentence because I notice the floor is wet below her.
“Did you not make it to the bathroom?” I say gently as I grab a towel. “It’s okay, mon coeur.”
“I didn’t pee myself.” Teagan narrows her eyes at me, and suddenly it clicks.
Holy. Fuck.
The next thirty minutes are a blur. I hastily run around the house, throwing clothes on and grabbing the diaper bag, then help Teagan get dressed.
Our drive to the hospital is one of the most stressful things I’ve done. Because I want to speed to get there as soon as possible, while also wanting to be safe and make sure we get there in one piece.
Her whimpers and cries nearly make me lose it, but I stay focused and get us there safely. Once we’re settled into a private room, I breathe again.
“Are you sure you’re not the one in labor?” Teagan teases.
“That was the most stressful car ride of my entire life,” I say, blowing out a deep breath as I run my fingers through my hair.
“You did great,” she reassures me, grabbing onto my hand and squeezing it.
“How are you feeling?” I ask her, not wanting to focus on me.
“These contractions hurt so fucking bad.”
“I’m sorry,” I say, unsure of what else to say. If I could take her pain, I would in a heartbeat, no questions asked.
“That’s right, you did this to me,” she yells with her eyes pinched shut and she squeezes my hand even harder.
I’ll let her yell at me and squeeze the hell out of my hand all day if it makes her feel slightly better.
Hours later, after countless assessments by nurses, painful contractions that become more frequent, Dr. Caruso finally tells us it’s time.
“We’re going to need you to start pushing,” Dr. Caruso informs us when she checks Teagan over, making the hair on my body stand up straight.
Teagan looks up at me, fear in her brown eyes. It guts me, seeing my usual strong girl so scared and in pain.
“You can do this, okay? I’m not going anywhere,” I tell her as I kiss her sweaty forehead.
“It’ll be worth it, for her.” She nods as she takes a deep breath.
“On three, push. One, two, three!”
Teagan’s scream pierces my ear, her hand grabbing mine tightly. This goes on for a while, Teagan pushing and screaming, yelling curse words. I dab her sweaty forehead with a towel, run my fingers over her hair, and grip her hand when needed. Anything I can do to try to make this better, I’m doing.
And then, I see her for the first time.
Dr. Caruso holds up our baby, who’s crying as she makes her way into this world, and my world stops for a moment.
Because it suddenly clicks. Nothing else matters except for these two right here. My family. I already knew it before, but seeing my daughter for the first time solidifies that this is where I’m meant to be.
Tears flow down my cheeks, my emotions taking over, and I don’t care. My girl is finally here, and I’m a dad. Crying seems like the appropriate response for that.
After I cut the cord and the nurse takes her to clean her up, she’s placed onto Teagan’s chest.
“She’s perfect,” Teagan sputters as tears stream down her cheeks.
I run my finger over her tiny fingers, feeling elated. “I agree.”
We stay like that for a bit, Teagan and I staring at our daughter in awe, with no words exchanged.
It isn’t until a nurse asks, “Do you have a name for her?” that we finally break from our trance.
We have discussed names from time to time, but nothing ever stuck. Our hope was that when we looked at her, we would just know.
“What about Mila?” Teagan suggests. “It’s close to Camille, who I know is important to you. And to me, too.”
Tears swell in my eyes at the idea because she’s right. Camille and I have a deep bond, and I couldn’t think of a better name for our daughter.
“I love it.”
Teagan smiles, her eyes radiating with pure joy as she looks from me then down at Mila.
“You’re going to be the most spoiled girl in the world,” she says softly and presses a kiss to her forehead.
“And your first word might be fuck.”
Teagan glares at me, but the corners of her lips lift into a smile. “Yeah, I need to stop swearing. Otherwise, that’s going to be true.”
“Nah, we will just be good parents and laugh the first time, then correct her the second time.”
We both chuckle softly as we return to staring at our daughter. She’s got a head of dark hair, exactly like her mom and me.
I wonder whose eyes she’ll have, but it’s too soon to tell. God, there’s so much I wonder about who she’ll be when she grows up.
And I can’t wait to be there every day, helping her become who she’s meant to be.