EPILOGUE
Three months later, I’m sleeping in Boyd’s bed when I go into labor in the middle of the night. Being two days past the baby’s due date, I knew what signs to watch for, but I wasn’t expecting my water to break while I was asleep.
It takes me a minute to fully wake up and absorb what’s happening. Another minute after I tap on Boyd’s shoulder and tell him what happened, the house comes alive.
Before I can even change my clothes, Atlas is standing by with his phone’s stopwatch at the ready, asking about contractions.
“I … don’t think I had any yet,” I tell him. “I was asleep.”
“Dr. Navarro said to let her know how far apart the contractions are,” he says.
I rub sleep from the edges of my eyes. “You called her?”
Atlas nods. “She’s ready to come when you’re ready. When the baby’s ready.”
After that, time moves in weird ways. Mild contractions start less than twenty minutes later, and at first, it seems like things are going to progress quickly, but then hours pass, with nothing much happening at all.
The contractions eventually get stronger and come closer together. When the doctor arrives, I’m in my bedroom, which the men converted into a birthing room for the special event. They purchased a big rubber birthing ball and put an extra mattress on the floor, so I’ll have plenty of options for comfortable labor positions.
There are tons of pillows, blankets, and towels, a floor fan and a handheld fan, heating pads, and massage tools. They lined my dresser with water bottles, electrolyte drinks, and snacks, and music is playing from a portable speaker.
Dr. Navarro, with her typical cool, takes it all in but doesn’t comment.
I’m not sure how much time passes after that, but I do know that one or more of my men are always close, ready to help me in any way I need.
When the time comes to push, Atlas kneels next to me, and I can’t imagine having a more calming, reassuring presence at my side. “Breathe with me,” he says, his voice low and even. “You’ve got this, and we’ve got you.”
Boyd’s at my other side, anchoring me through each contraction, making me stronger than I am. As he encourages me, his voice is thick with emotion that he doesn’t try to hide.
Silas assists the doctor in any way that she needs, takes pictures and videos, and occasionally squeezesmy arm in silent support. Although he carries himself with unaffected calm, his expression is far from its usual default detachment.
There’s concern in his eyes, but they’re mostly filled with awe and wonder, especially when the baby makes her way into the world.
It’s rough going near the end, but absolutely worth it when I hear her cry, loud and clear.
I think all four of us exhale at the same time.
“She’s beautiful,” Boyd whispers, his eyes glassy.
Atlas looks stunned, a look I’ve never seen on his face. “She’s got a healthy set of lungs,” he says when he finds his words.
Silas is frozen in place, but he swallows hard. “She’s perfect.”
“Have a name picked out?” the doctor asks, as she lays my daughter on my chest.
I don’t even register the question at first. My entire world has narrowed to the impossibly tiny, incredibly precious human who’s now with me.
The idea of taking care of her, keeping her safe, and helping her grow suddenly seems overwhelming, but then my view widens, and I remember that she and I will have the best support possible, no matter what comes our way.
I spent a good bit of time researching names. I strongly considered giving the baby my mother’s name to honor her memory, but I don’t want her to live in anyone’s shadow.Regardless of her name, my mom will be watching over her, like she’s been watching over me.
“Her name is Felicity,” I announce. “It means happiness, especially happiness after hardship, and it means luck.” I look around at each of my men. “She and I are incredibly lucky that you found us, or she wouldn’t even be here today.”
There are lumps in each of their throats that may be bigger than little Felicity.
Boyd kisses my cheek, Atlas presses his lips to my forehead, and Silas wraps his fingers around my wrist. Dr. Navarro takes a picture of the five of us together, and I know it’s an image I’ll always treasure.
Felicity’s first days pass in a haze. If I’d been on my own, I’d have been starving, sleep-deprived, and dirty, but thanks to my men, I’m well fed, made to take naps, and even enjoy a couple of hot showers.
