Chapter 62
NAMESAKE
LYDIA
“Fletch, can you take her for a moment?” I ask, shifting a bit. My whole body aches, the pain radiating through my pelvis.
“Of course.” He stands from the reclining chair, coming over to my side to grab the little bundle from my arms. “Hey, Baby Girl,” he whispers, easily lifting her into his embrace.
She just finished feeding, and I need to use the bathroom.
Dottie and Ron are coming to the hospital soon, along with all our friends, so I’d like to get cleaned up as much as I can.
I also want to decide on a name. We can’t keep calling her Baby Girl, but nothing feels right. Fletcher helps me slowly stand, the baby cradled in his elbow, and walks with me to the bathroom, helping me sit on the toilet.
There’s a different kind of intimacy in this moment. It’s not sexy—I mean, I’m literally in a diaper—but he’s here to support our daughter and me, even if it means helping me sit on the toilet and stand when I can’t do it myself.
He leaves me alone while I relieve myself and do the process of cleaning up and putting witch hazel pads in my underwear. I call out to Fletcher when I’m ready for his assistance.
He comes back in, this time without our baby, telling me she’s in the bassinet for a moment. Fletcher helps me stand, and I adjust my underwear before waddling over to the sink to wash my hands.
“Can you grab my robe from my bag, please?”
He leaves the small bathroom, returning with my light pink floral robe, and helps me out of the hospital gown and into this one. It immediately helps me feel a little refreshed.
I wash my face, brush my teeth, and make my way back to bed. Fletcher trails behind me, a hand on my lower back the whole time. Once I’m back in bed, Baby Girl lets out a squawk, letting us know she’s no longer sleeping.
“I’ve got her.” Fletcher rushes to her side and lifts her into his arms. “I think I’m going to do some skin-to-skin.”
“Can I close my eyes for a bit while she’s comfortable?” I ask, my eyes already drooping.
“Yep, I’ll wake you if she gets hungry.”
Not nearly enough time passes before Fletcher wakes me, but I was able to sleep a little bit. He helps me get her in my arms, and she thankfully latches onto my breast fairly easily.
While she eats, I stare at my daughter. “Do you have any other ideas for a name?”
Fletcher shakes his head. “I was doing some searching, but nothing has clicked so far.”
When I think of the last nine months, a few people stand out the most. Obviously, Fletcher is the one who was there the most, but the second one is Dottie. Something rings in my chest. “What’s your mom’s full name?”
Fletcher quirks his eyebrow, and I can already see his eyes growing watery. “Dorothea.”
“Dorothea,” I whisper, running a finger over my baby’s soft cheek. “What do you think of that?”
The name feels more and more right with each passing moment.
I look at Fletcher. His lower lip trembles as tears fill his eyes.
“We could call her Thea,” I say, and it feels oh so right.
“I love it.” He wipes the tears under his eyes. “It’s perfect.”
“Hi, Thea,” I whisper to my beautiful daughter.
She doesn’t have any of Fletcher’s DNA or look like him, but she will always be a part of him and his family. Of mine.
“She’s absolutely perfect,” Dottie coos, rocking baby Thea in her arms. She and Ron just arrived about five minutes ago.
Dottie was more concerned about me at first, checking in and making sure I was okay before she even thought about holding my daughter. It’s those things that matter, because while she loves my daughter, she cares for me too.
“Want to know her name?” Fletcher asks, and my heart pounds.
“Absolutely,” Dottie replies, her eyes locked on our sweet girl.
“Her name is Dorothea,” I say.
Dottie looks up to me with so much emotion that I start shedding tears.
“We’ll call her Thea,” I say, “but I wanted her to have a strong, meaningful name. A family name.”
“Sweetie, are you sure?” Dottie walks over to me, resting her hand on my shoulder.
“The only thing I’ve ever been surer of was keeping her, and letting myself fall in love with Fletcher, so yes. You’ve always been like a mother to me and have been there for me more than my own. I love you, and I want her to know what a strong, caring, and amazing person her namesake is.”
Dottie sobs as she holds Thea, and Ron wraps his arms around Dottie’s shoulders and kisses her cheek.
“Thank you,” he says, and I smile softly at both of them.
Now, the only thing left is to tell Fletcher her middle name. I decided not long after settling on her first name, but I’m waiting until we are alone again to tell him.
Dottie holds Thea for most of the time they’re here, and we make sure to take a lot of pictures of her with her new grandparents.
We make plans for Dottie to meet us at the apartment tomorrow morning when we’re discharged, so she can stick around and help me out since Fletcher has to be back at the arena tomorrow for another game.
Thankfully, he won’t miss any games, even though he’s offered to skip the next one no less than three times.
I won’t let him. There’s no reason for it, especially since it’s the playoffs.
His team needs him. Dottie will be with me, and I bet I could convince Grace, Zoey, and maybe even Hattie—depending on her work schedule—to come over too. We can have a low-key girls’ night.
When the Graffs leave, Fletcher snuggles in next to me on the bed, holding Thea on his chest. He’s been doing skin-to-skin any chance he can, and it makes my heart swell. He’s already such a wonderful dad.
“I thought of what I want her middle name to be.” I lean over to kiss his bare shoulder.
“Yeah?” he asks, running his hand over her soft curls. “What is it?”
“Sage.”
“I like it. Dorothea Sage Ward.”
“Dorothea Sage Graff. Sage, because of the color of her Dad’s eyes.
They’re my favorite part of you, and I want her to have that piece of you, even if she doesn’t have any part of your DNA.
I also want her to have the Graff name, so she knows she always has a family with the people who gave me a family. ”
“Lydia.” Tears brim in his eyes, the ones I love so much. “Thank you. I won’t ever make you regret giving her my last name.”
I kiss him gently. “I know you won’t.”
“I’ll give it to you too, someday.” His eyes lock on mine, and I know he means it, just like I mean my next words.
“I know, and I can’t wait.”