“Of course.”
Following the nurse’s directions, I did as told and moments later I was being offered the baby.
“Only for a moment. We need to measure and clean things up,” she said to me. I nodded and took the child into my arms.
I was in awe. It was so tiny and puffy. I didn’t have time to fully process the small face before it was being pulled from my arms and taken to a weighing station on the other side of the room.
“Are you ready to head to your room to recover?” Someone from behind me asked. I turned to look back. Whitley still had her eyes closed. She looked tortured. Was she really okay with this?
“Yes please,” she said, her voice hoarse. I pressed my lips together and took a step towards the bed, but she suddenly spoke directly to me. “Don’t start thinking I’m regretting things. I’m just in pain and exhausted. I’m not changing my mind. Don’t come visit. Either of you.”
The room was too busy with people moving to and fro but for a moment it fell silent as her words sunk in. She held up a peace sign as they pulled out her bed and started to turn it. The entire time her eyes remained closed. Then, she was gone.
No sooner had the doors closed did our attention turn to the baby being cleaned and weighed.
“Can we know now? Is it a boy or a girl?” Tate asked excitedly. His energy was contagious. I found myself just as eager as he was to find out more about the little being currently screaming out as it was being sponge bathed.
“You have a very beautiful baby girl. Ten fingers, ten toes. 21 inches, 7 pounds 2 ounces. Congratulations.”
A girl.
Amazing.
“Do you have a name?” the nurse asked. I looked over at Tate. Last time I had asked him he still hadn’t chosen one. Tate cleared his throat and nodded.
“Cara Daisy Whitlock.”
I raised an eyebrow.
“Do you like it? We can pick something else if you want. You have a say too.”
“It’s a lovely name,” I agreed. Tate wrapped his arms around me and we watched the hospital staff finish their jobs. A little while later the three of us were walking out of the delivery room and going down the hall. They were giving us a private room for the rest of Cara’s stay.
“There’s some paperwork to finish up before you can take her home. Also, we like to monitor the baby for at least 24 hours before releasing them. She’ll probably want to eat soon. We can get you a bottle of formula if you want.”
Tate was holding her and rocking her to and fro in a rocking chair. He nodded without looking up from her tiny, sweet, face.
Once we were alone I joined him, pulling up a chair to sit beside him and admire his daughter.Our daughter.
It was still odd to think about, but it wasn’t as heartbreaking now that she was here. It was still scary, but I knew I was going to be there regardless.I wanted to be.
“Cara Daisy Whitlock. How did you come up with it?”
Tate looked up and shrugged. His face held a permanent smile, his eyes shining with tears waiting to fall from pure happiness.
“Cara means beloved. You told me once to make sure she knew how loved she was.”
My stomach flipped. Oh Tate, always the romantic. It was a beautiful name, that was perfect for his daughter.
“And Daisy?”
“The Great Gatsby,” he said, looking back down at her. It took me a minute, but I realized how deep his thoughts went into naming her.
“A beautiful little fool,” I sighed, sadness flooding me. He nodded.
“There’s worse things she could be. The less she knows, the better.”
I reached out and touched his arm. He looked up at me. His smile now tight and his eyes filled with a slight sadness.
“Are you sure about this? About me and you? About me and her?” I asked. He shook his head and snickered.
“I think the better question is, are you? Today I’m giving my last name to one of the most important women in my life. Care to make it both of you?”
I laughed and my eyes dipped to look at Cara, then back up at him.
“Both sounds good.”
