June 2019
It had been a long nine months, and an even longer four days since the due date. Four days seemed like four months, everything was ready, it was going to happen. And it was going to happen soon. It was a waiting game.
They had watched her change over the last eight months. It started with the sickness. She was sick every morning. Dylan worried she had hyperemesis gravidarum. She told him to shut up and help her stand up. They watched as her stomach began to expand. He was there when she came crying to him about her clothes not fitting, when he decided that now was the time to go shopping with her. He sat with her whilst she brought all sorts of new clothes, arguing with her that he needs to pay for all of it, his contribution to the pregnancy.
He was there as she sat up all night because she couldn't sleep, her boobs hurt or that she was just so tired. The pair of them worked better than they thought they could be. Two recovering alcoholics having a baby sounds like a train wreck waiting to happen.
They could do nothing about it. It would happen, eventually. It would have to happen, they would become parents before the month was out. A daunting thought for the pair of them. How could they be parents, a thought that ran over their mind multiple times. Surely, they were the worst combination of parents a child could have, they were toxic. Except they loved one another, and they loved the little life inside of her.
Dylan had learnt that children have their own agenda, that they will do what they please, whenever they please. Their baby was no different. Not that he expected it to be any different, Dylan was so awkward, he didn't expect any less of their baby.
A phrase that made him shiver, their baby. Never did he think that he would have a baby, he knew Sam wanted one, but it was one of those conversations. He knew that she wanted one eventually, maybe not when they were together but in the future. He thought they were going to be together forever. He believed he had time, and suddenly he didn't. One last argument and it was over. All those things they hadn't done. All those conversations they didn't have. The ones you don't have because it might give an answer that you didn't want. Sam died, with no family. God knows what happened to Tom, but Dylan loved her. Even after all this time.
Maybe Ciara was his rebound, years after they split, but he could make it work. They loved one another, and a baby seemed like a joke from Sam, from beyond the grave. One last thing to give her a laugh. He knew that if she was alive she would see the funny side of it, considering she thought his one true love was that 'bloody dog'. She probably was right, except now a baby was thrown into the mix. He told Ciara that he wanted Sam in the baby's name, regardless. She had agreed, knowing that he loved Sam and she wouldn't be able to replace her. It was a new, different, different relationship.
Then this was thrown at him, and the idea of losing something that was part of him became scary. He didn't want to be like Brian, who told Hazel that she should get rid of the baby when he first heard about it. He wasn't his dad, and he intended to be there for his child. It gave them both an incentive to stop drinking. They couldn't screw this up, a child's future was riding on this. They had to make it work.
It happened after a twelve-hour shift, Ciara made Dylan work until she had the baby, despite his protests. He flapped too much, she was tired and just wanted to watch TV with a bar of chocolate, falling asleep in front of the TV in that new rocking chair that they brought for the baby. She knew he cared, but sometimes he doesn't understand. He has all these things she should do, and he's probably right, but when he's nagging her about doing some light exercise when she's been up all night because the baby was laying on a nerve.
She wasn't sure if it was the walk, waddle in her case, they made to the supermarket, or the curry they brought home with them that started it. Dylan told her it was the sex, she just laughed. She knew that once it was over, she would be fine. She was sick of the feeling of the baby between her legs, making even the simplest tasks unbearable. It was her suggestion to have sex, he didn't need asking twice. They needed some milk, and some bread. Ciara threw a bar or two of chocolate into the basket. Dylan tried to persuade her that a packet of strawberries was the better choice. She disagreed, and he gave in, she probably needed the energy. They got a curry, she didn't want to cook. And the idea of him cooking gave them both nightmares over it. She went into labour at 1AM that morning.
They didn't know if it was a boy or a girl, they hadn't found out what they were having. The nursery was a lovely shade of yellow, not that Dylan had a say on what the nursery would look like, he didn't particularly care.
Hazel and Rihanna came around to have a look, over the few months Ciara had told him he needed to spend more time with kids, so naturally he went to his small half-sister, who is now three. He took her to the park, with the dogs, he even suffered that godawful soft play centre she loved so much, swearing to a five-month pregnant Ciara that their child would never go to one of those germ-ridden places.
He even looked after her when Ciara and Hazel went to a spa for Hazels birthday. Neither of them died, so it was a successful night all round. She told him how she wanted the baby to be a girl, so that they could play barbies and have sleepovers. She wanted a sibling like person, someone of her own age, something Dylan could never be.
A year ago, he would have hated the idea of a baby. But so much can change in the space of 365 days. The baby was a curveball, but it became a welcome curveball, eventually. Even Dervla seemed excited. At 24 weeks, she caught him with a device that would listen to the baby's heartbeat. It became a ritual that they would listen to its heart beating, each beat making it more real. Dylan waited till twenty-four weeks, because given the scare they had earlier, if she made it o twenty-four weeks there was a fighting chance for their baby, if it had been born then.
She was in labour for three hours, a very quick labour. Both of them had expected longer, but everything was okay. It was a textbook labour, for a not so textbook pregnancy. She had severe morning sickness, almost being hospitalised. The sobriety was a struggle, but they survived. Both were yet to fall off the wagon.
The baby was weighed, seven pounds five ounces. A good weight. It was weird seeing her for the first time. She was real, she was a living, breathing thing. She existed. He had thought it was a boy, he worried that he wouldn't be good enough. He didn't know about football or any sports really. Nor did he know about cars. The idea of a daughter scared him much less. He knew that she wanted a little girl, they could do things together. They had chosen a couple of outfits for the baby, unisex outfits. Because after all, as long as it all went okay and both mum and baby were okay, they knew it didn't matter.
He phoned his family later that morning, so that Rihanna could meet her. He had already held her, he was shocked at how small she was. He expected her to be bigger. Hazel had told him that she was so excited to meet the baby. Neither of them had much family, so it seemed right him phoning her. He let Ciara feed the baby, and he went down to reception waiting for his family. It hit him that they were all the family he had, but right now they didn't need anyone else.
He didn't see the point of having the baby in hospital, he was a doctor and he knew how to deliver a baby. Ciara thought otherwise, and he had to go with what she wanted. She was the one having the baby. This wasn't his decision to make.
Rihanna and Hazel arrive pretty soon after the call, armed with a bagful of presents and a card, with a picture that had been drawn for the baby by her aunt. In Dylan's mind, an aunt is someone who is much older. It was frightening to think that actually they are the same age, they would grow up together. Hopefully.
The trio walked up to the unit, to find the baby and Ciara awake. Ciara and Hazel compared birth stories, as Dylan taught his sister how to hold a baby, as she babbled that when the baby is a little bit older they can play dolls together.
They were allowed to go home that evening. They had brought a four-bedroomed house in Holby. It had a nice garden that they would be able to have BBQ's in during the summer, and Ciara told him that she wanted a swing and a trampoline for the baby, when it wasn't a baby anymore. Dylan disagreed, it's a death trap, but that argument could come later. Preferably after she's mastered the art of walking. They would have plenty of time to-do that, arguing about how he didn't want her to break a bone, he always see's children in A and E falling off these things and coming in with weird fractures. She would argue that a kid needs to be able to play, saying she knew more about that because she was a teacher and she knew more about kids.
The baby would sleep in their room for the foreseeable. He knew that she would want to be near the baby, after a traumatic pregnancy she wanted the baby with her. They would be able to take turns, obviously he would be able to do much less than her, but he could help. He had six weeks off. They decided that she wouldn't go back to work until the baby was at school, he wasn't sure if she would accept it when he first suggested it, but she told him she really liked that idea. They would be able to watch her grow up, going to places. Things he wouldn't have even thought of. He knew spending time with his little sister showed him a child's view of the world was very different to his, and he could learn something from the tot.
Everyone was shocked to find out that Dylan Keogh would be having a baby. They didn't believe it at first. Zoe was the first one he told, she wasn't expecting that when he wanted to skype her. Dylan hated kids, yet he was having one. She promised to come and visit, having made some sort of peace with not having a child of her own. She was happy for Dylan, at least that's what she told him, he wasn't sure if he believed it, but Zoe said she was okay.
He was left to burb the baby, as Ciara went for a shower. He insisted, telling her that their baby was in the best hands, he was a doctor, and despite common belief he did know how to hold and look after a baby. Not that he would tell anyone that.
Ciara found the pair asleep on the rocking chair. A laugh graced her lips, alerting Dylan to the fact she was there. The baby didn't move, she was sparked out. She told him to stay there, if Beth was asleep, they shouldn't disturb her, plus seeing Dylan with a baby was quite an amusing sight.
Because I totally love Dylan and Ciara.