Caleb couldn’t either.
He pressed his forehead against mine.
“She’s here,” he whispered.
I started sobbing.
“She’s really here.”
One nurse laughed gently.
I wanted to protest, even though I knew they needed to check her.
“She definitely has opinions.”
They placed her briefly against me before taking her to the warming station a few feet away.
I wanted to protest, even though I knew they needed to check her.
“Is she okay?”
“She’s doing beautifully,” the pediatric nurse said.
Caleb hovered between me and the warming station, unsure where he was supposed to stand.
I couldn’t see much, but I could see Caleb’s face.
“Go look at her,” I told him.
“You sure?”
“Caleb, go.”
He walked over.
I couldn’t see much because the doctor was still working on me, but I could see Caleb’s face.
He was crying openly.
“She has this little mark.”
The nurse said something I couldn’t hear.
Caleb laughed.
Then he leaned closer.
“Oh, wow.”
“What?” I called.
He glanced back at me.
“What kind of mark?”
“She has this little mark.”
“What kind of mark?”
“Near her collarbone. Dark, kind of oval. Looks like somebody pressed a thumb into wet paint.”
The nurse chuckled.
“Birthmark. Completely harmless.”
Caleb looked down again.
For the first time all day, I felt almost normal.
“Left side?”
“Yes.”
He grinned.
“She already has more distinguishing features than I do.”
“That’s not difficult,” I said.
He looked offended.
Our daughter was alive.
For the first time all day, I felt almost normal.
Our daughter was alive.
She was healthy.
Caleb was making bad jokes.
After ten years of being afraid to hope, I let myself believe we had finally made it through.
Caleb came back beside me while our daughter was taken to the nearby newborn assessment area for the rest of her routine checks.
I closed my eyes for what felt like ten seconds.
“Like yours?”
“Hopefully not. I was bald by thirty.”
I smiled.
“You still have hair.”
“Barely.”
I closed my eyes for what felt like ten seconds.
My heart jumped.
Apparently, it was closer to fifteen minutes.
When I opened them, a nurse I hadn’t seen before was entering with a bundled baby in her arms.
“There she is,” she said.
My heart jumped.
