Cal stared down at his new son in the plastic bassinet on wheels. He was tiny. Just seven pounds seven. Which seemed big, but the little guy wasn't very tall. Just like his Dad. Cal watched his son's sleeping features. He could swear the baby, despite the puffiness, looked like Gillian. He could see the newborn's eyes shifting under thin eyelids. He had dark hair, baby fine but not a lot of it. And he didn't cry much. Just kind of grizzled. More like a complaint really.
"Tell me you're not trying to read our son," Gillian's voice came from the bed.
Cal turned to look at her. Her cheeks were reddened from her nap. "Nope. Just starin' in complete and utta amazement." He crossed to the bed and perched on the side. Gillian immediately reached for his hand. Her blue eyes smiled at him and he was glad she was all right.
"Has it not sunk in yet?"
"Actually," Cal answered honestly. "No, I'm not sure it has."
"Same for me," Gillian admitted. "After everything. All those years. All those attempts. Kind of seems surreal that it really worked this time. I feel like I might wake up."
Cal nodded. He could completely understand where she was coming from. "Not gonna wake up from this one."
"I'm glad," Gillian gave a tentative smile. "And I'm glad it's with you."
Cal returned her smile warmly, rubbed a thumb along the back of her soft hand. "Thanks for that." Gillian's smile got a little firmer in response. "I'm gonna go home for a bit."
"Why?" Gillian looked mildly alarmed.
"So I can have a showa and get some food and pick up a few extra things in case we're stayin' longa."
"You think they'll keep us here over night?" Blue eyes questioning.
Cal didn't know. "Want me to get you anythin' in particula?"
"I can't think of anything right now."
"Call me if you do." Cal leaned forward and gave her a quick kiss. "You should go back to sleep."
Gillian looked over at the plastic bassinet. "Yeah I think I might." She looked at Cal again. "You're not going to be long are you?"
"Nope. Not long at all."
PJ
"Hi Dad."
"You have a new brutha."
"Really?! That's so cool! Congratulations Dad!"
Cal beamed. He felt his chest puff out and his head tilt up in pride. "Thanks."
"How'd it go? Is everybody ok?"
"Yep. Gill's fine. The baby is... fine." A slight hesitation Cal hoped she wouldn't pick up on. He didn't want to get into the whole perinatal asphyxia over the phone. He didn't quite have it straight in his head yet. He just knew they would have to wait and see what happened with the baby now. He was fine, but there was a chance for lasting damage. "Wanna come up and say hi?"
"Are you still at the hospital?"
"Yep." Well, he wasn't right at that moment, but he was heading back there now. They hadn't been given an indication as to when they could go home. Maybe tomorrow. Cal hoped tomorrow. He wasn't really looking forward to spending the night in a chair; he just didn't want it to be two nights. Cal gave her directions to the maternity ward and which room they were in.
"Have you named him yet?"
"Actually no. We had a name all picked out and Gill changed her mind."
Emily gave a light laugh. "So I can just come up anytime?"
"Yep, anytime you want. I'll be here."
PJ
Gillian was attempting feed number two when Cal got back. Still not easy and she was still frustrated. Cal's first reaction was to go and pick up his crying son, but Gillian had to learn and so did the baby. Plus, there were two other women in the room giving pointers; patience beyond resilience. Cal felt a pang of guilt that he had abandoned Gillian when she clearly needed help. But again, he had to reason, breastfeeding was just a little bit out of his league. Instead he dumped the bags he had picked up from the house on a chair. He rummaged through one, found what he wanted and sat on the end of the bed. Gillian shot him a look of pure aggravation. He gave her an easy smile. Peaceful. He rubbed her foot absently through the thin hospital blanket while he produced the teddy bear Emily had gifted Gillian and sat it in the space between Gillian's feet. Gillian visibly relaxed. She would get the hang of it. He had faith.
When the baby had finished feeding and they were alone, the little curled body propped up against Cal's chest so he could rub the air out of his digestive system, Cal told Gillian he had invited Emily up to see them. "I wanted her to be first. Everyone else can wait until tomorrow."
"Sure," Gillian agreed.
"That's all right?"
Gillian nodded. "Of course."
"We should really come up with a name."
Gillian sighed, shifted her legs into A-frames. She winced slightly as she moved, still feeling tender from the birth. "We should," she agreed. "But I'm fresh out of ideas."
"Oh, I was hopin' you had some, cos I don't."
Gillian laughed lightly. Cal was pleased to hear that too. Despite being tired, physically exhausted, frustrated over the difficulties of breastfeeding, afraid of the complications from the birth, Gillian had managed a carefree laugh. "We were so organised!"
The baby gave a wet sounding burp. "That's my boy," Cal encouraged gently as if the newborn could understand him. He checked for up-chucked milk.
"Sorry I changed my mind."
"If it's not right, it's not right," Cal countered with a slight shrug. He focused on the baby in his arms again. He still had an uncomfortable frown on his face. Cal rubbed his fingers firmly up his warm back. "Come on," he coaxed. "One more and you're done. Then you can go back to sleep."
There was a tentative knock on their door. Cal strutted over to it, a more careful version of his usual confident stride. He pulled the door. Emily was waiting on the other side. She had flowers. "Hey you," Cal greeted. Emily gave an immediate wide smile, her focus on the baby against his chest. "Come on in," Cal moved aside. The door swung back of its own accord. Emily turned to Cal. "This is your big sista," he introduced. "Big sista, little brutha. Still nameless."
"He's so small!" Emily noted. "And cute."
Cal smiled. Once you got past the cone head look, the little guy was very cute. Emily looked up at Cal's face with a smile. It faded quickly. "Geeze Dad, what happened to you?" She was suddenly concerned.
"Would you believe me if I said I was just tired?" Cal tried to brush off his black eyes. He had forgotten about them.
"No," she was indignant.
"Then, it's a long story, and I'll tell you all about it late-a."
Emily gave a little huff and move around him. She gave the flowers to Gillian in congratulations. Gillian thanked her warmly. The baby gave a very wet sounding burp. Both women turned to Cal. "That was it," he told the baby. "Nice one!" He wiped away some stray milk. The baby's face relaxed. "Wanna hold?" He looked up at his daughter. She looked unsure. "He's goin' to sleep. Promise he won't cry."
"Ok sure," Emily agreed. Cal indicated she should take a seat in the chair beside the bed and once she was settled passed the baby over, showing her how to support his neck correctly. Cal moved around the bed so he was facing the room. He slipped his hand absently into Gillian's. "Definitely very cute," Emily noted. She looked up, gave the new parents a smile.
"I'm gonna book you in now for some serious babysittin'," Cal told her. Emily smiled. "What do you reckon Gill? I think around the time he's teethin', the entire terrible twos and the awkward, rebellious, obnoxious teenage years."
Gillian laughed. "Sounds good."
Emily shot Cal a glare.
"Shh," Cal cut her off before she could even think of any retaliation. "You don't want to wake him up," he teased. "Then they're a real nightmare."
PJ
Cal's shoulder ached. But he wasn't going to tell Gillian that. The night in the chair had been just short of pure torture for the already flimsy muscles. It was hard to tell which was lighter, the overnight bags or their son in his car seat. Cal guessed the baby and the car seat, so he carried that inside while Gillian brought their bags in. Cal put the baby on the couch. He slept on. He was good at sleeping. Cal hoped he would keep it up for a few days so his father could catch up on some slumber.
They stood together watching the baby for a few seconds. Cal remembered this from when Emily had come home for the first time. It was: now what do we do?
"I reckon you've got time for a showa before he needs a feed," Cal told Gillian softly.
"Do I smell?"
"Nope. Just thought you might appreciate a hot showa."
"Or a cold showa," Gillian countered, her voice light. It was summer after all, warm, but not boiling hot. "A shower would be great." She seemed to hesitate.
"It's all right," Cal told her. "I've got him."
She trailed from the room slowly.
"You and I can have some Daddy time," Cal told the baby. He had been hanging out for it for two days of the hospital, doctors, nurses and zero privacy. He picked up the car seat and moved to the bedroom. Gillian was in the process of picking out clean clothes. She eyed him up as he came in. Cal put the car seat down on the mattress and then reached for the overnight bags, wordlessly indicating he was going to unpack them. Gillian disappeared into the bathroom and once she was out of sight, and the sound of the shower came through the door, Cal picked his son up out of his restraints. He settled the warm body into the crook of his elbow.
Then Cal went about filling up the washing machine with dirty clothes and timing it to go on in half an hour when Gillian would be out of the shower. One handed took a little longer. It didn't matter. He had all the time in the world right now. He could hear Gillian in the bathroom and the slight snuffles of his sleeping son. Cal checked there was food to make lunch. They might have to get something in for dinner. Finally, he went to the baby's room. On the walls were the typical cutesy baby animals and clouds on a sky blue painted background. Crib in the corner, changing table against the wall, dresser under the window. A small bookshelf already held teddy bears and other soft toys. Clothes were folded, nappies and wipes and other supplies ready for use. Cal was just double checking.
"This is your room," Cal told his son as he looked around it. As he turned for the door again the small photos on the wall caught his attention. Gillian had framed a picture of her parents, a picture of Cal's parents, a picture of Emily and Cal and one of Cal and herself. Then she had mounted them on the wall, eye height, evenly spaced. It struck Cal hard that neither of his parents were going to meet the son he had just brought into the world.
Back in the bedroom, Gillian was towelling off. Her stomach was back to the five month mark but her breasts were bigger than they'd ever been. Her milk was coming in and it would take time for her body to adjust to how much the baby was actually going to need. Cal propped himself up against the back of the bed and shifted the baby boy to his chest while he watched Gillian get dressed. "Betta?"
"Yes."
"Hungry?"
"Yeah," Gillian agreed.
"Lunch. Then maybe a nap?"
"Sounds good."
"I thought of a name."
Gillian raised her eyebrows at him, a silent 'let's hear it'.
"Lewis."
"Where did you get that from?"
Cal watched her face carefully. It was harder from across the room. But she didn't seem completely opposed to the idea. "Afta my Mum."
Gillian stopped moving. Now she watched him intently, standing in her underwear.
"She neva got to meet eitha of my kids."
Gillian nodded. "I like Lewis."
