Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 88208 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88208 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
“You’re a badass, Hanna,” I tell her as she tries to pulverize my hand for the hundredth time. “A beautiful badass.”
“I probably look like a hot mess.”
“Just hot, minus the mess.”
“You’re such a liar, Jake, but I love you anyway.”
She breathes her way through another contraction.
I don’t know if she’s even realized what she said. I wanted to tell her the same thing earlier, but I didn’t want the first time I said those words to be over the phone.
“Not a liar at all, and I love you, too.” I kiss the back of her hand and her gaze shoots to mine, eyes flaring a little.
She smiles for a moment, but it quickly contorts into something pained. “This baby is coming now,” she tells the doctor.
We barely make it inside the delivery room before the pushing starts.
I stand by her side, telling her she’s doing an awesome job. Based on the feral sounds she keeps making and the way she white-knuckles the bed rails with every contraction, giving birth is no walk in the park. I’m glad I’m here for the experience this time, instead of arriving at the tail end, when the hardest part was over. “I’ll get you a peanut buster parfait right after I meet our son.”
She laughs and then grunts. “Stop making me laugh! I’m trying to push a damn baby out.”
“And you’re doing a damn good job.”
“How big is this freaking kid?” She bears down again. “Doc, you better do a good job stitching me up.”
“I promise I’ll make sure you’re as good as new,” her doctor assures her.
“You better or I’m giving you a bad Yelp review,” she gripes, but she’s smiling. At least until she has to push again. “Come on, kid, let’s get this done. I have a peanut buster parfait with my name on it waiting for me at the end of this. Your dad said so,” she grits, then turns to me. “Thanks for making me hungry.”
“I’ll even spoon-feed it to you.”
“You’re such a romantic.”
“Hey.” The doctor snaps her fingers. “I need you two to focus instead of flirting with each other.”
Hanna shifts her attention back to the doctor.
“One more big push on the next contraction, okay?”
“Okay.” She grips the bed rails.
I’d offer my hand, but I don’t want to leave here in a cast.
As soon as the contraction hits, Hanna bears down.
“And the head is out! Give me another one.”
Two more pushes later and some serious profanity directed at me, our son is born.
His little cry is music to my ears. They clean him up before they rest him on Hanna’s chest. Her eyes fill with wonder and tears as she takes in his tiny, perfect face.
“Hey there, my beautiful boy. You came in like a storm, didn’t you?” Her gaze lifts to mine as two tears track down her cheeks. “We did it.”
I brush them away. “It was all you, babe. I just came along for the ride.”
“Come here.” She grabs my tie with her free hand.
I’m still dressed in a full suit. I bend to meet her lips. The kiss is soft and lingering. The disgruntled cry from her chest causes us both to smile and me to pull away.
“Hey there, little man, I’m glad you’re finally here.”
I carefully cradle him in my arms, marveling at how tiny he is and how much fuller my heart feels already.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Parenting, Round Two
Hanna
LESS THAN TWENTY-four hours after his birth, we take Jacob Storm Masterson home.
So much for nixing the weird names. But it seemed fitting that our son be named after the fact he came into this world in the middle of a snowstorm. In Seattle.
We decide that it makes the most sense for me to continue living at Jake’s. He doesn’t want to miss out on any part of being a parent and neither do I. Apart from the first few weeks with Ryan, I never had the chance to breastfeed, and this time I want to do it all if I can.
Co-parenting is a completely different experience. And Jake is a fully immersed dad. While we have the nursery set up, I move the bassinet into the bedroom so JJ can be close for the first little while. I’ve offered to sleep in the spare room, so Jake can get a solid night’s rest, but he wants me next to him at night. And I want to be there.
I’m currently sitting on the couch, burping JJ post-feeding. He lets out a belch, and at the same time, another, less delicate sound comes out the back end. Jake, who’s busy searching for lost socks under the lounger, turns my way, one eyebrow arched.
“Sounds like someone needs a diaper change.”
“And possibly a bath.” I move the breastfeeding pillow aside and pull myself up off the couch.
“I can help,” Jake offers.