Why does everything have to be white? Can't they add just a bit of color around here or does everything have to be white and dull? If people are going to die here, I doubt the last thing they want to remember are the stark white walls and the silent, cold feel about this place. I've always hated being here for as long as I can even remember but I suppose that this time it isn't so bad. Not so bad at all actually. How can I be the calm one during all of this? My parents are both nervous wrecks; my mother pacing back and forth and interrogating anyone that dares walk by while my father keeps running a hand through his hair and breathing deeply through his nose like he's ready to start hyperventilating. I should be the one hyperventilating and freaking out if anything but oddly enough, I'm fairly calm with all of this. I know that this will change my life entirely and I'm excited about it but not as terrified as I should be at the moment. Then again, why do I have to be a nervous wreck?
Finally, I was allowed to leave the waiting room and my family behind as I walked down the stark white hallway in utter silence. The woman next to me gave me a soft smile and I smiled back before looking away from her at the rooms we were passing. Many people inside looked elated while a couple of them looked terrified and some of them didn't even want to be there and he could tell by the looks on their faces. They weren't holding little bundles and were turned away from everything and everyone. Many rooms later she stopped in front of the one that had 228 written next to the door. She smiled at me and gestured for me to go in before hurrying away. After a necessary deep breathe I opened the door and there lying in the bed was the most beautiful person in the world, my exhausted wife. In her arms was that tiny little bundle that would change our lives forever and make sure that nothing was ever boring again. She gave me that bright exhausted smile and looked down at the bundle once more and I somehow found my legs moving me without even thinking about it. Somehow, I never imagined it like this. Never thought this day would come.
Still, the day had arrived and it was a beautiful snowy day. December 23rd, the day my life would change completely and I found that this was my favorite day. I'm fairly certain that even my wedding day didn't compare to this. How could it? My wife scooted over a little bit so I could sit down on the edge of the bed and then I was handed that little bundle and I saw the wrinkly splotchy face that was my son and somehow, he was absolutely perfect and so beautiful. I haven't even known him for five minutes and I already love him, how is that even possible? It took me nearly a year to even know that I loved his mother and yet I already can't imagine not having him. I'm not sure how it's even possible but it's not the worst feeling in the world.
Far from it actually.
"He's beautiful, isn't he?" The soft spoken words startled me out of my own thoughts and I could only nod, refusing to look away from this new life for even a second. "You know, we still haven't come up with a good name for him..."
"Christopher, he looks like a Christopher." I stated and she smiled.
"Little baby Christopher," She murmured before placing a soft kiss on his forehead. "I love Wyatt for his middle name; Christopher Wyatt Halliwell. For his daddy."
"I love you so much, you know that right?" I asked her and she only laughed lightly and shook her head at me. Just ten minutes ago she was the only love of my life and now I'm pretty certain that she's in a tie for first.
Or...maybe a close second. A yawn made me look down to see that he was finally waking up and his hand twitched lightly before opening his eyes.
Yeah, definitely a close second.