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“Oh my God.”

My mind immediately went back to every contraction. Every time I had told Malik something didn’t feel right. Every time the monitor had started making that sound. Instead of blaming myself, I looked toward the other side of the curtain.

“Is he okay?”

“He’s responding well. The team is going to continue evaluating him, but right now, he’s doing what we want him to do.”

I nodded because that was enough for me. For right then, it had to be enough.

“Can I please see him?”

I felt like a damn fein the way I kept asking, but I didn’t care. This time, someone told me yes.

I started crying before they even brought him over. I heard Malik laugh softly beside me.

“You ain’t even seen him yet.”

“Shut up.”

I was about to add a smart remark, but then I saw him and everything else disappeared.

They brought my son close enough for me to see his face, and for a second, I couldn’t even speak. He was so small. His little face was scrunched up from crying, and his skin was still carrying the evidence of everything he had just been through.

His mouth opened with another angry cry, and I laughed because Malik had been right.

He did look mad.

“Oh my God,” I whispered. “Hi, baby.”

I wanted to reach for him with both hands, but I couldn’t. I hated that I couldn’t immediately pull him against my chest and hold him the way I had imagined doing a thousand times. Instead, I reached as far as I could and touched the side of his face with my fingers. He was warm. He was real, alive, and all mine. That one touch nearly took me out.

“Hi,” I said again while crying. “Mama’s right here.”

Malik leaned forward in his wheelchair.

“Let me see my boy.”

They moved our son enough for Malik to get closer. He reached up carefully and touched our son’s tiny hand with one finger. Our baby’s fingers curled around it, and Malik stopped talking. I watched his facial expression change to pure joy. That little hand had him. Malik stared down at our son’s fingers wrapped around his, and his eyes filled again.

“Hey, man,” he said quietly.

My heart broke in the best way. He rubbed his thumb gently over our baby’s hand.

“You scared the shit out of us.”

“Malik,” I started to chastise him for the profanity.

“What? He did.”

I laughed through my tears.

Our son started crying again, and Malik smiled.

“There you go. Let everybody know you here.”

I kissed our baby’s forehead when they brought him closer to me again. I wanted to memorize everything about him. His smell. His little mouth. The sound of his cry. The warmth of his skin beneath my lips. I had spent the last several minutes terrified that I might never get this moment.

Now that I had it, I never wanted it to end.