Fille à Papa
November 23rd, 2006
The clean and clear crackle of his daughter crying for the first time shook him from a state of absolute fear, and sorrow that he's cause the mother of his child the pain of bringing a life into the world, to complete and utter stillness.
He's frozen. In the literal sense. He doesn't know what to do now.
Although his hands had never left hers, strong and comforting and reassuring - together intertwined - and despite the terror drying his mouth, the so called miracle birth had caught him so unprepared - in all the months that he's been preparing, and he found himself helpless in front of the agony playing right before him.
And for a second too long, the thought of running away had shamefully crossed his mind - sprinting to a land so far, no one can ever find him, so far that he can hide away from something he's not prepared for - and he had truly truly felt so ashamed for having such thought. But then, he remembered he's not like Derek. He won't do that to Addison. He made a promise and she made one too of giving them a go and she's keeping her end so perfectly.
She'll never know that he contemplated leaving her because it's a secret he'll take to his grave. He doesn't want to hurt her. He doesn't want to hurt them.
The ten and a half hours Addison spent in labour had been the longest and the most terrifying minutes of his life. The hours just kept going on and on and on with no apparent end and with every grunt and moan and curse that she cried, he tried convincing her on the epidural. But she wouldn't budge, Addison was headstrong on a natural birth, no pain suppressant whatsoever. She had gone against her initial plan of being completely numb from the waist down and opt to feel everything. Literally every excruciating contraction and tear and pull and stretch. Just everything. And like the champion that she is, she did it. He commend her for being so brave and he's so proud of her because the Addison nine months ago wouldn't even bat an eye for a natural birth.
Now that their baby had come to the world, all pink, wrinkly and screaming, her healthy and strong lungs taking their first breaths of life, Mark finally understood the meaning of the word miracle; he now understood it fully and yet he felt absolutely overwhelmed by the word, unable to distinguish and give a name to any of the emotions swirling in his chest.
He watched, dazed - his eyes following the nurse as she laid the newborn against Addison's chest. The woman kindly congratulated them, but he wasn't even listening. Not at all since the spontaneity in which Addison had taken their daughter and carefully cradled her in her arms - her movements so delicate and fluid and confident as if she had done it hundreds of times before, had left him stunned. Because for a second there, she wasn't Dr. Addison Montgomery, the world-class neonatal surgeon with board certifications in both OB/GYN and maternal and fetal medicine, but, instead, Addison Montgomery, the only woman he'll ever love and the mother of his child.
He couldn't take his eyes off of them, his lips slightly parted in amazement of the precious gem she was holding.
Addison beamed through the happy tears streaming down her face and started counting the baby's beautiful fingers and toes, one by one, murmuring words that he couldn't quite catch.
He's still watching. All he can't really do is just watch them.
"Mark, come here." she called for him after a minute. Her voice shaky from exhaustion and her own overwhelming fluctuating highs. "Come look at her, Mark. Come meet our daughter."
But he couldn't move. He couldn't lift a leg. He couldn't put one foot in front of the other. So, he just stood there, immobile, a step away from the edge of her bed. Unable to do anything if not become aware of the fact that the frantic racing of his heart was one of pure paralysing fear.
He was scared of touching his tiny, perfect and completely innocent daughter, scared to hurt her. And not just with an abrupt movement, but to really hurt her with his inadequacy in a deep and irreparable way, that would leave her broken and confused like them.
They're both broken inside. Addison and him. And he doesn't want to break his daughter.
He has no idea how to be a father and how to love a baby - an uncorrupted life that will depend on him, that he is responsible for. And for that, he put the blame on his parent. Because he had never experienced the instinctive and unconditional love of a parent. All his life, he's ever known disdain and hatred, abuse and abandonment. Those are what his parents were.
What if he is too broken to teach his daughter about affection and acceptance and too damaged to make her see the beauty and the bliss of life?
"Mark." as if she had been able to read his thoughts, Addison called him again. "Please come closer." she encouraged him, her tone now calmer and softer and she reached a hand out to grab his. She squeezed reassurance into him with a smile. "You can hold her if you want. I promise you won't hurt her."
Although weak, her gentle grasp was enough to make him glance down at her. She was smiling warmly at him, her eyes still glistening with tears. Even through pallor and tiredness, her face was glowing with the most blatant and contagious happiness, and Mark thinks she had never looked more beautiful or strong in his eyes.
Addison - she looks so different now.
She was just as much his best friend as Derek was. He had never told her that. He probably should. Later, maybe. She has always been a constant in his life, even when they were in medical school and didn't quite fancy one another at first - the way her firm and endeavoured courage would encourage him to try harder for the next test or exam or how her empathy would always stop him from drowning in his inner demons. She always had the power to bring him back to reality, to catch him when he's about to fall – metaphorically and not.
She's his best friend now. His family too.
All he had to do is trust that she knows what she's talking about. And for the most part, she does. Addison is always right.
And so he followed, listened to her. He took a step towards the bed and cautiously sat down next to her. He looked down at their daughter again and held a breath. As tiny and defenseless as she is, she seemed comfortable and safe in her mother's careful and expert embrace, and he's still too afraid to ruin that pristine and beautiful bond to touch her, let alone hold her in his arms.
Again, it was Addison who slowly guided his hand closer to their baby's face.
"She's your daughter, Mark." she told him when he halted their joined movement right before his fingers could even brush against their daughter's cheek. "She needs to know her dad."
He quickly raised his eyes to her, gripped by fear. "What if I can't?" he managed to ask hoarsely, swallowing the tight lump in his throat with difficulty.
Can't be a good father?
Can't love her enough?
Can't protect her?
Can't give her what she needs?
He wanted to voice them all but it was just too hard to let them all out. He wants answers to all these vague questions and many other fears, he knows none can be resolved so easily.
Yet, in an instant, Addison's smile widened and she lightly shook her head. She knows and understands his fears. After all, it's all she's been pondering about for the last nine months and only just came to peace with them the second their daughter was laying against her chest.
He knows that she knows and recognised what she was trying to explain.
It will all just come naturally.
"Just touch her." she said, her voice sweet and secure.
In her arms the newborn started to fuss, forcing Mark to look back at Addison. Hesitant. He blinked. Maybe it is just that simple. Maybe he was just supposed to follow his instincts all along and follow the months of longing to meet his daughter, and so, his hand shake in Addison's heartening hold and their eyes lock, because he's suddenly unable to avert his gaze.
He leaned in and took a deep breath, and finally allowed himself to run a trembling finger down their baby's cheek.
It was then that it hit him. The deepest joy and the most powerful, completely absorbing, unconditional love he's ever felt. It was immediate, pure and regardless of his lacking skills when it comes to recognising and accepting feelings, he acknowledged this straightaway when he lightly stroked his daughter's face, and then took her tiny hand in his.
It is real. He has a daughter - a small, unharmed human being to protect at the peak of all possibilities. A baby who need not have to struggle to learn how to love and need not worry about being loved in return, because he will. They both will love her unconditionally.
A baby who will live an uncomplicated and happy life. The warmth and support of a doting family will make her strong and confident in facing the world with courage and the certainty that she will always always be safe and never lonely.
A baby who will always be special to someone – to a father and a mother who will treasure her and care for her.
"Madeleine." Mark uttered in a shaky whisper, a simple word that summed up his thoughts and hopes. Tears filled his eyes and unashamed, he did nothing to repress them and just let them slip free down his cheeks.
They've been discussing names and could never come to a mutual agreement. And in fact, the name wasn't even in their months of discussion. But now though, it's clear that Madeleine is the name he wishes for his daughter. It sounded like a promise, a symbol of the life he will give her.
He turned his head to look at Addison and he was relieved to see her nodding. She hadn't stopped smiling at him. "Oh, Mark. It's beautiful. It really fits her." she said, squeezing his hand once more to let him know that she loves the name. "It's a name for a princess; Madeleine Leonor Sloan. It's wonderful."
Mark, full of unspeakable gratitude, smiled back at her. He wrapped his free arm around her shoulders and leaned in, placing a kiss on her sweat damped hair. His other hand still tentatively searching Madeleine's cheeks and forehead. "I love you." he whispered in her ear, taking the chance to breathe her in, "I love you both so much."
"I love you too." Addison guided her hand to his face, cupping his cheek to wipe away his tears with her thumb. Their eyes met for a brief moment when he laid his forehead against hers.
Soon both of their gazes were drawn back down to their girl. "She's perfect, Mark." she spoke through a thin, teary giggle.
He grinned. "Perfect." he echoed and bent forward to gently kiss Madeleine's forehead for the first time – the first of many many to come.
He laid a promise on her soft and delicate skin.
He realised at that moment that his life will change forever. He's a father now. A fundamental being and a part of every family. He's the pillar that will hold all of them together. He has responsibilities, more so than ever.
He has a beautiful ... Addison - he's not sure what to label them - and a precious one to take care of.
Embracing them, he's not frightened by all the responsibility anymore, because he's completely filled with pride.
Little did he know, fear will catch up to him as the nurse kindly asked if she could take Madeleine just for a little while so she could be weighed and cleaned and dressed, he shook his head. "No."
The nurse looked surprised and arched a brow at Addison. She chuckled and placed a gentle warm palm to his cheek and assured him that she'll be just fine. But he didn't want her out of his sight and so, he followed the nurse and never took his eyes off of his daughter.
This reaction is only natural for any father, he thought to himself. Because it means he's well aware that he has something to lose, everything, actually.
Addison and Madeleine are his whole world.
Ok. So guys, I've officially become that person who enjoys writing about babies and everything that has to do with babies, especially Maddison babies. That's a lot of babies in one sentence. I'm sorry. I just can't help it. I have a soft spot for stories involving babies, I just realised. What about you guys? :)
Ok, enough about me, I want to know what you guys think so far. Hope you enjoyed! REVIEW!!