And then things were looking not good, but managable until they fucking weren’t, and now I was a useless alpha pacing the waiting room like a bad television drama waiting for news. No, not news. Good news. Amazing news. Anything less would crush me to oblivion.
A nurse did come out to try and give me some positivity, assuring me that the doctor on call was the best there was and that the anesthesiologist was amazing and that the NICU was there should our baby need it. I appreciated her attempt to comfort me, but once they mentioned NICU, my blood turned to ice. I needed our baby to be okay, and I knew from a co-worker the terrifying reality of the NICU and how not all babies came home.
Fifteen minutes. Thirty minutes. An hour. An hour and fifteen minutes. The time slowly marched on. Every time the door swung open, my breath hitched waiting for them to call my name. So far, they hadn’t.
“Did you want some coffee?” a nurse I hadn’t spoken to before asked from the nurses station, startling me.
“I think I’m jittery enough.” I wasn’t even joking, but she forced a chuckle. “How long do those take—the C-sections, I mean—when it is an emergency and they fly out of the room?”
“It all depends. The baby comes out fast in cases like that because of the anesthesiologist, but the rest still takes time. If there was a delay, someone would have come out to tell us by now. They are good like that.” I wasn’t sure I believed her, but it gave me something to hold onto.
Finally, an hour and a half later, someone came out to tell me that Stan was in recovery and our baby was perfect. Relief flooded me. They were okay. They were both okay. The nurse promised to come get me once I could see them and scampered off.
I was a dad.
My omega was safe.
My baby was perfect.
Everything was going to be all right...for real.
“Dad,” the nurse called out from the doorway. “They are ready for you now.”
I followed him down corridor after corridor until they brought me into a room no larger than many closets. Lying on the bed was Stan looking so completely wrong and broken, wires everywhere and an oxygen tube by his nose.
“Hey, love.” I stepped in close, not wanting to startle him. “The nurse said you did so good.”
“She’s perfect. The doctor said she was perfect.” I looked around the room.
“She’ll be down in a minute,” another nurse said as she tapped away on a tablet. “They are just cleaning her up. She wants to be pretty for her daddies.”
“You had me so scared.” I tentatively brushed his hand with mine, not wanting to hurt him but needing to feel his warmth.
“I had me so scared. I need to see her.” His voice was so hoarse.
“Can he have water or something?” I asked the nurse who was still tapping away.
“Ice chips, and yes, I will get some.” She walked out to get them and came back in almost instantly, only it wasn’t her, it was someone I didn’t recognize and our baby.
“That’s our baby.” My eyes were already blurry with tears.
“The nursery didn’t want to give her back. She’s so precious,” the nurse handed her to me. “I’m not sure how awake Mr. Price is right now so…” she whispered as if he couldn’t hear.
“Thanks,” I mumbled as I looked down at my precious girl’s face. They were right. She was perfect.
“Look what we made.” I laid her on Stan’s chest, my hands still on her in case the nurses warning had been necessary.
“She’s so tiny.” He looked down at her, his eyes open with wonder.
“She is,” the nurse agreed. “When they called out her weight just under five pounds, I was sure she would need some NICU time, but she is doing amazingly.
“She may want to eat. Would you like some help?” I stood out of the way and watched as the nurse helped Stan get our baby girl into position. How right the nurse was. She latched on and began to eat with no hesitation.
“What’s the sweet baby girl’s name?”
“Violet. Her name is Violet.” I puffed up with pride as if I had anything to do with the little miracle before me.
I rolled a stool over and took a seat next to Stan where we spent the next hour just admiring our baby and waiting for Stan and Violet to be moved to their new room.
“I was so scared,” I confessed when the three of us were finally alone. “I thought I was going to lose you.”
“I’m not that easy to get rid of.”
“Neither am I.”
“When do you need to go?” he asked, and my heart broke. In all of this mess, I hadn’t told him.
“I’m not. I told them I was done and there were more important things to me than my stupid contract.”
“Your career,” he gasped.
“Is far less important than you are, my love. I want to live here, to grow roots—with you and Violet. I can work anywhere, but I can’t live, truly live, where you aren’t. I love you.”
How wrong I’d been putting my career front and center for so long. That wasn’t living. That was surviving, and I wanted to live. I wanted to wake up each morning surrounded by my family, to walk down the street and see familiar faces, even those that bugged me, I wanted to be the dad I never had. I wanted my life to be intertwined with theirs until I took my dying breath.
“I love you too. But are you sure?” He pulled his bottom lip in with his tooth.
“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life. This is where I belong.”
Thirty-One
Stan
Chet tiptoed into the room and placed a steaming flat white and a plate of cookies on the nightstand. He mouthed, “From Charlie and the gang,” and held up a note that read, ‘Choc chip violet cookies in honor of our little Violet.’ My eyes swam with tears. Why didn’t anyone tell me having kids made you cry over the slightest thing, even a stupid TV advertisement or food.
Violet was feeding and didn’t bother to acknowledge her alpha father as he climbed into bed, and I cradled her so we were both gazing at our daughter.
Considering how small she was when she was born, she was making up for it, which made for exhausted parents, especially me. But unlike the tiredness when I was missing Chet, worried about the future, or having nightmares about being whacked on the head, this was a good sort of weariness.
Yes, I hardly knew which day it was.
Yes, when I opened my eyes, I was never sure if it was day or night.
Yes, food and water magically appeared and disappeared beside me. Did Chet employ an army of elves who produced meals on a conveyor belt?
Yes, I took showers while Chet looked after Violet.
Yes, I was deliriously happy at becoming a father.
Yes, I was deeply in love with my alpha.
Violet pulled away and focused on me and then her alpha dad. “Want to burp her while I pee?” I asked.
Chet had been out all morning which was unusual now he’d given up his job, and Dave had stayed with me, bringing his new son in a sling. Both little ones had slept for a couple of hours, giving me a chance to catch up on sleep.
I hadn’t realized Chet was back and Dave had gone, so I sent my friend a quick text thanking him and another to Charlie asking to send a box of cookies to Dave.