“Okay,” Ace said, slowly drawing out the word.
“Keep rubbing.” I swatted at his hand on my back to spur him into action. The massaging didn’t help much, but it possibly was a psychosocial element of knowing he was trying to comfort me through this birthing process that helped.
“Just remember, you say that now, but in six weeks…”
I groaned.
“Okay, maybe eight,” he corrected. “In eight weeks, you’ll forget all about this discomfort and…”
“Shut up.” I lifted one of the pillows from my bed and hit him with it. “Maybe you should get another vasectomy.”
He shook his head. “Negative.”
I grunted. Another contraction was coming. When I bellowed out in pain, Ace ceased all joking and called the doctors and nursing staff into the room.
Minutes later, the doctor determined that it was finally time for me to push. After ten hours of labor, I was exhausted but ready to meet the little girl who’d given me heartburn over the past nine months.
Obviously, Ace’s vasectomy reversal was a success. I prepared myself for it to take a while for his body’s ability to produce sperm at a regular rate. I expected it to take at least a year before I would get pregnant, and that was if everything went well.
But, not even three months after Ace’s reversal, I found myself staring at a positive pregnancy test.
“We’re almost home, baby,” Ace encouraged, squeezing my hand at the side of the bed as I pushed.
The previous nine months had been a mix of fear, joy, excitement, and more terror. Painful reminders of how our first son died gripped me unexpectedly. Ace would calm my worries and remind me that we were living our second chance.
I did the same for him, even when he didn’t want to admit he was afraid.
It took another two hours, but finally, our baby girl, Parker Elise Townsend, was born. Her middle name was for my mother. When I heard her cry for the first time, I burst into tears of my own. I didn’t know whose cry was louder.
Ace and I couldn’t stop staring at her. She was the perfect mix of both of us.
She weighed in at almost nine pounds, with a head full of dark hair, a light brown complexion, and eyes that turned up at the corners.
Soon after, Aiden was allowed into the room to meet his little sister. He sat on the love seat across from me. When Ace placed Parker into his arms, Aiden vowed to protect and watch out for her always.
“Just like a big brother and man should.” He looked up at Ace, as if asking if that was right.
I lost it again.
“Mama needs some more tissues,” Aiden told Ace. “It’s okay, Parker. Mama cries a lot. You get used to it.”
“Hey,” I griped. I’d been incredibly emotional throughout my pregnancy—even more than usual.
Aiden was able to stay for a few hours, but Micah and Jodi took him home with them after their visit, as Ace would remain with Parker and me in the hospital for the night.
“Knock, knock,” Reese’s voice sounded at the door, an hour before visiting hours were over. “I’m sorry to come by so late, but I had to pick up this beautiful bouquet for you.”
In her arms was a huge arrangement of sunflowers.
“Her favorite,” Ace said as he peered down at me with Parker in his arms.
“You can put them over there.” I pointed at the windowsill. There were multiple bouquets from my job, Ace’s job, family, and friends.
“She’s beautiful,” Reese said admiringly. “Congratulations, you two.”
We thanked her and talked for a few minutes before Reese left us, telling us she was volunteering again that night.
“That’s so sweet of her,” I said when I opened the card she’d left. Inside was a gift card for a night of family dinners at one of our favorite restaurants.
