Daughter
"If only you knew
The sunlight shines a little brighter,
The weight of the world's a little lighter,
The stars lean in a little closer
All because of you."
"Daughter" Sleeping At Last "Atlas: Year 2"
Trip paces the waiting area nervously, he's been here nearly 5 hours now, ever since they'd taken T'Pol back to the OR. The fact that she'd wanted to give birth without him present had been established since the moment he learned she was pregnant but he'd still asked if she wanted him to go back with her. She'd assured him she was fine, and that before long they'd be holding their new daughter, which wasn't really very reassuring as she was very pale when she'd said it.
He knew the baby was a bit of a special case but it should not be taking this long, should it? He didn't really know, T'Pol had prepared him for if it was a natural birth, that sometimes those can take days, but it really seemed like a cesarean should take less time. Maybe the dates were wrong, and instead of being 36 weeks the baby was more like 32 weeks, and was under developed and sick.
The fact that this is a completely illogical thought doesn't bother him, neither does the fact that the baby was already measuring at 6 pounds and likely would've been a robust 9 if allowed to go to term. In fact the size of their daughter was the entire reason they were here in the first place, had little Elaine T'Shanik been closer to Vulcan size she'd have been born at home in the garden. Unfortunately, she'd been much bigger than a Vulcan baby and was starting to compress T'Pol's heart and lungs more then was safe.
That left him here, pacing the floor of the maternity waiting room, four or five Vulcan men were seated in chairs throughout the room, apparently it was common for Vulcan husbands not to be present during the birth of a child. He'd called Jon twice, under the pretense of checking on Elizabeth, had been for coffee three times – each time because the previous cup went undrunk and got cold – and now he's really got nothing to do but pace. Finally he can't take it anymore, he walks up to the nurses station.
"Ma'am?" Trip asks, hoping she speaks English.
"Yes." The dead pan, voice says, looking up from the paperwork she'd been filing.
"Would you mind checking on my wife?" He asks, relieved he won't have to try to ask in his very poor Vulcan.
"Name." The nurse says, turning to the computer.
"T'Pol." He says.
"T'Pol what?" The nurse asks. "She's got a family name doesn't she?"
"Um..." Trip sighs, trying to remember how to pronounce her last name.
"Mr. Tucker?" Another dead pan voice says, he turns to see a woman standing in the door way to the ward wearing OR scrubs.
"Yeah?" He asks, almost running over to where the woman is. "I-Is everything okay? Is T'Pol okay?"
"Your wife is fine, even surgically that was a difficult birth, we'd like her to remain in the hospital at least a week to ensure the incision heals properly. She's getting cleaned up and settled now, you may go back and see her and your daughter if you wish." He barely gives the Vulcan doctor time to get the words out before he's past her and scanning the halls for her room.
"Trip?" He hears her voice call quietly from a door he's just passed, doubling back he sees T'Pol propped up in the bed, he rushes over to her and smiles. They appear to have taken the baby to the nursery as she isn't in the room, but right now all he can think about is getting to T'Pol. He takes one of her hand and kisses her forehead, smiling down at her as she looks up at him with her tired hazel eyes. She's exhausted and stressed from the birth, she's always hated hospitals and he wishes she could've been more comfortable, but under the discomfort is something else, happiness. Their daughter is finally here, healthy and strong.
"How are you feeling?" He asks. "Where's –"
He's interrupted by a tiny scratchy cry, a nurse wheels in a small cot, in it a tiny bundle, wrapped in a white blanket. T'Pol holds one arm out and the nurse gives her the baby, with a grimace T'Pol settles back with the baby. "Would you hand me that nursing pillow?"
Trip reaches blindly behind him until his hand makes contact with something soft on the low table next to the bed. He hands it to T'Pol without taking his eyes off of the face of his daughter. "T'Pol she's beautiful…"
T'Pol simply raises an eyebrow and adjusts the blankets and her gown so she can nurse. "I don't believe beautiful is the word I would use."
She was probably right, the tiny infant now suckling hungrily at her mother's breast is wrinkly, green, and covered in some sort of flakey substance that's either skin or remnants of something left over from the birth. Her tiny ears have a flap of skin curled down where the point will be when she's older, just like her Momma and sister. Trip reaches out nervously to touch one of them, it's warm and smooth to the touch, the eyes of the newborn roll to look at him and a smile stretches across his face "Nah, she's beautiful, just like her sister and just like her Momma."
"She'll have my ears." T'Pol says quietly, her hazel eyes watching the baby, but a smile almost present in her voice. Her ears have always been one of his favorite features of hers.
They sit in silence, watching Elaine eat hungrily, in awe of the fact that she's real, that any of this is real. When they'd brought Elizabeth home it had been very different, she'd been coming from the arms of a terrorist group and onto a starship, and she'd been so sick that first year. More than a few nights were spent sitting next to an incubator in sickbay, certain she wouldn't make it through the night. Though Elizabeth certainly still had health scares none had been that bad in two years, now here they were with a baby girl who was practically glowing with health, half human and half Vulcan, proof that it could be done.
Now it was with the awe of first time parents that they gazed down at their new little girl as she finished eating and fell asleep. Neither one of them had had a baby this tiny before, having missed the entire newborn stage with Elizabeth and a good portion of infant hood being spent too ill to function normally. This was completely new territory to both of them, but it was territory both were glad to have reached. T'Pol pulls the gown up and tucked the blankets more tightly around Elaine, then she looks up at him. "Would you return her to her cot?"
"Y-yeah." Trip says, nervously taking Elaine into his arms, she's so tiny, so fragile, it almost seems as though she shouldn't be out here yet. The world is dangerous, too dangerous for this tiny little thing. He sets her in her cot and strokes her cheek gently, watching her yawn once in her sleep and lay motionless except for the steady rise and fall of her perfect chest. "Goodnight Princess."