At the end of the day, though, I didn’t think all the preparation in the world could prepare you for what it’s actually like. Love, so pure and intense it overwhelms you and awakens a determination to protect and provide the likes I’ve never felt before. Every time I saw or held my baby, I was in awe of her and the life we had created.
Motherhood is an entirely different story. Worry and guilt were constant companions. Some days, it felt like I was getting the hang of things, finally in tune with all of the baby’s cries and able to start developing a schedule. Other days, it felt like Icould do nothing right, and that somehow meant I was a terrible mother.
Family made all the difference. Some people may have felt smothered by all the visitors once we got home. Even I assumed that I would have felt overwhelmed having our sanctuary invaded.
Instead, it was such a comfort to have people who loved me and my baby, and unabashedly gave advice and feedback. I needed to hear voices that weren’t mine, telling me everything was okay.
There was no such thing as getting used to parenting. It was like chasing a moving target. Each day, she was growing, which presented a whole new set of issues to tackle. As soon as we figured out one thing, the baby was a week older and onto something else. I couldn’t imagine what we were in for once she started really moving around.
My girl was amazing. It was never her that upset me. It’s always the idea of failing her. I don’t want to miss a moment of seeing her grow and develop. She would never want for anything. I would make sure she would never know feelings of neglect or abandonment. Bash was an amazing husband and father, always rushing to our sides. The way he looked at our daughter brought tears to my eyes, his love so pure.
My emotions were haywire during and after the pregnancy, Bash always listened patiently as I blurted out all my worries and concerns, my fear that I would be a terrible mother, that I wouldn’t know how to interact with my child. equally concerned that I would obsess and overcompensate becoming a helicopter mom.
He was patient, and reassuring, and kept me together in those days. Ultimately, it was Jackson who finally got through to me, helped me break out of that prism of self-doubt that was holding me back from fully enjoying life with my growing family.
“Seeing you guys with the baby, holding her… She’s so innocent and pure. She hasn’t done anything wrong. She only deserves the best. I don’t have the words to thank you for letting me meet her, letting me be a part of her life.
“What we had, how we grew up wasn’t normal, and it wasn’t right. This is your chance to give her everything we never had. She’s a blank slate, waiting to suck up all the love and attention around her. At the end of the day, that’s what counts. Not what you can buy her or what school she gets into, it’s that you’ll listen to her when she’s mad, comfort her when she’s upset, that you are there for her no matter what.
“That goes for me too. I’ll always be here for her. I know it’s selfish, and won’t happen overnight, but by the time she’s an adult, she will know who I am and every mistake I made. I hope, by then, I’ll have earned a second chance with both of you.” Jackson’s voice was full of emotion.
Bringing her to the clubhouse, seeing all those big, scary men melt in her pudgy hands never failed to enchant me. Remembering that first meeting always left me smiling. Those first few weeks, our girl was smaller than most of the Brothers’ hands. They were so afraid of hurting her, a few refused to hold her until she got a bit bigger.
Bailey and Diesel had their son, Maddox, a few months before us. Since then, the clubhouse was slowly shifting from a purely adult environment to one that was more child-friendly. Before either kid was even crawling, a huge outdoor playground was installed behind the clubhouse. Slides, swings, monkey bars… The set up was wildly elaborate for two infants.
The nursery the club designed was amazing, though, and a renovation I was thrilled about. Fully loaded, it came with a fridge and pumping chair, cabinets full of snacks, formula, and baby food. There was a changing table that was stocked with all sized diapers and a variety of wipes and ointments.
Unisex onesies in varying sizes were neatly stacked in a dresser. The whole area was monitored, and currently had two cribs in it, with room for more. It was like a luxury daycare, anything they could want or need was there. My life was so full. It was more than I ever could imagine.
I finally had a home because I was now a part of a family. They were loud, colorful, intrusive, annoying, bossy but most importantly they were mine, and I wouldn’t trade them for anyone. Staring at my baby girl, I smiled. She would always know love, and would never need anything.
There were no cycles to break, no need to hide behind numbers and rules. It was time to make new memories and traditions. There were so many exciting experiences and milestones ahead of us. Every morning held the promise of something incredible, and every night, I went to bed grateful for the beautiful world I now lived in.
Bash
Several moments in life proved pivotal, tattooed in my mind so they would stay with me forever. Patching into the club, opening the garage, meeting and falling for Fiona felt like milestones that nothing could top. Now, I knew that anything I went through before this moment would pale in comparison to what lay ahead of me.
Staring down into the wide blue eyes of my baby girl, her head already covered in a healthy amount of red curls, I knew I was in trouble. There was nothing I wouldn’t give, no one that could stop me from getting my daughter whatever her heart desired.
When I had found my Fiona, I thought my heart couldn’t get bigger, that a love larger than that couldn’t possibly exist. That held true until the moment the nurses put my daughter in my arms and this tiny creature, so foreign to me, let out ahigh-pitchedsquawk, blinking at me with familiar eyes before promptly falling asleep on my chest.
I remembered the fear that the aggressive racing of my heart would wake her tiny form, but she didn’t budge. She had slept soundly in her daddy’s arms while I stared at her in complete awe. I’d had a hard time letting her out of my sight or arms since then.
Neither of us had settled on a name that we particularly liked, so when Fee went into labor, we were still unsure what to call our newest family member.
That first night, I watched over my girls as they slept, jumping out of my chair any time the baby made a sound. Her high-pitched mewls sounded like chirps. I took to calling her Birdie, her song notes commanding me to her side. I was surprised when Fiona instantly took to it as well, and our Birdie girl was officially named.
At nine months old, it still felt surreal. I quickly took over the night shift, knowing Fiona needed her sleep. The truth was, I needed time alone with Birdie.Midnight feedings, colicky nights, teething fits; I was always there for my girl. Those moments, when I held her in my arms and got to study each feature cataloguing them, helped ease the persistent fear I had that I would miss a single moment of time with her. It didn’t help that I had to fight everyone around me for her attention.
Charlie took her job as aunt very seriously and was the source behind the multitude of unnecessary toys and outfits that littered our house. My parents took on the role of grandpa and grandma as if they were royal titles. Popping by to see their little princess whenever they felt like it, never letting her cry for a second, always a toy or treat in hand, our girl was spoiled rotten.
Don’t even get me started on the Brothers. Match was named Uncle unanimously, and was my only ally when it came tofighting Charlie off when she hogged Birdie. He painted the entire nursery. Words weren’t adequate to describe what he created in the space. Trees with leaves of all colors covered the wall. Anywhere you looked, there was something that caught your eye. Looking up, it was hard to resist the urge to reach up and grab one of the fluffy clouds painted on the ceiling and the top of the walls.
Tall trees housing owls and squirrels stretched across the walls, their leaves in varying vibrant shades. Bunnies and squirrels were hidden among the grass and flowers that looked like they were growing out of the floors and up the wall. Every night, Birdie got to sleep in her own enchanted garden.
Birdie was a hit at the clubhouse, every Brother, Old Lady, and club girl came out from their lairs to get some love. Scythe and Bull bickered like an old married couple, each of them racing to claim Birdie before the other could get their hands on her.
Atlas had come through a few weeks after we got settled back home with the baby. He and Fiona were navigating how to go about having a new relationship, and Birdie was helping close that gap quickly. The search for Crow was still ongoing. We had caught up with him a few months before, but the reports were mixed. He was using a different name, riding as a nomad, and occasionally pairing up with other bikers who had their patches stripped.
