“The placenta has been delivered,” the doula says softly and warmly. “Mom and baby are safe and sound, Dad.”
Safe and sound.
All the worry, all the terror of the last twelve hours—fuck, the last forty weeks—start to fade away. I hold Jess close, cradling the back of our little girl’s head in my palm. “I think we should call her Michaela, after you,” Jess says softly.
“Hi Michaela,” I whisper.
And then, all at once, a dam breaks inside me and I am sobbing, fucking sobbing, with so much joy, as I hold them both close and safe in my arms.
“She’s going to call you Daddy.” I hear Jess whisper through my balling. “And we both know, you are the best Daddy in the whole world.”
Fuck, I love her. Both of them so fucking much but all I can do right now is cry and hope they understand, my tears are my soul, slipping out of me so they both know, I belong to them.
Forever.