Chapter 69
The first twelve hours home with Avery were kind of an adrenaline rush, just because it was so new, and therefore exciting. But very early on, Clarke realized that they needed to try to establish a routine. As much of a routine as a newborn baby would adhere to, at least. Because without a routine, she and Bellamy were going to lose their minds.
Sleeping happened in spurts during that first week, because there was no other option. They woke up early, around 7:00, because that was when Avery tended to need her morning feeding. Clarke, still recovering, managed a short nap each day, but she was still exhausted by 8:00 at night. Both she and Bellamy fell asleep the moment their heads hit the pillow, but the slightest noise on the baby monitor was all it took to wake them up. A gurgle. A hiccup. Anything. The second they heard it, they both pulled themselves out of whatever temporary slumber they'd managed to find, got up, and headed into the nursery. Clarke tried telling Bellamy that he didn't need to wake up with her, because usually Avery just needed to be fed, and obviously that was her job. But Bellamy didn't want her to be the only one to have to wake up, didn't want her to feel like she was having to do anything by herself. So he sat in the nursery with them, for twenty minutes, thirty minutes, forty-five . . . however long it took. Sometimes he'd just talk to them, or sometimes he read to them, because he wanted Avery to be exposed to a lot of words early on. He wanted her to be a reader. If there was something to be done around the house, like unwashed dishes in the sink or a load of laundry in the dryer that needed to be sorted, he'd sometimes go downstairs and do that, too. And he didn't complain.
Breastfeeding every few hours meant that Clarke had plenty of opportunities to perfect her mommy station. That was what she was calling it, anyway. She liked to do it upstairs in the comfy rocking chair next to the crib, surrounded by pillows and covered by a thin blanket. Very early on, she realized that she'd always need to have burp cloths and cleaning wipes handy, because although her daughter had a pretty good latch, things still got messy from time to time. She also made sure she kept a water bottle on the table next to the rocking chair, because she'd read that staying hydrated was supposed to help produce more milk. There were also things she quickly realized she wouldn't need at her mommy station, though, her sketchbook being one of them. Avery definitely preferred the left breast, so that meant her drawing hand was occupied holding her daughter. Besides, the whole breastfeeding experience was kind of a nice way too bond, and Clarke wanted to be . . . present for it. She could draw on her own, but this was something for her and Avery to do together. For that reason, a speaker to listen to some relaxing music was the only entertainment she even bothered with. But even then, she still preferred listening to Bellamy's voice when he read Goodnight Moon or Guess How Much I Love You to their daughter.
Towards the end of the first week, Avery surprised the hell out of both of them by sleeping for five hours straight. They both woke up after three of them, accustomed to the semi-regular intervals at that point, and they both freaked out when they looked at the baby monitor and saw her lying still. At first, Clarke thought something was wrong, so she told Bellamy to run in and check on her. Which he did. It took Clarke a little bit of effort to stand up, and even more effort to get into the nursery after him, but when she did, she saw that nothing was wrong. Avery was still breathing and sleeping just fine. Of course, they both got online to see if it was normal for a newborn to go that long without eating, and everything they found said a baby's feeding schedule could fluctuate. But she still ended up calling her mom at 3:00 a.m. just to make sure that was true, and by the time they were finally calmed down and ready to go back to sleep, Avery was ready to wake up.
Physically, despite feeling like she never had quite as much energy as she would have liked, Clarke did feel better. But different. The soreness lingered—for the first few days, even just sitting was painful—but gradually her low-down aches began to fade, to the point where she could pretty much just ignore them altogether. The stairs still weren't fun, though, and unfortunately Bellamy wasn't always able to carry her up and down them. He tried, but it just wasn't feasible, so she did her best not to strain herself by taking them slowly and being extra careful. The last thing she needed to do was fall. She was still bleeding, but that was getting lighter as the days went by. By far the most welcomed physical change, however, was that her tummy was shrinking. Sure, there was still a pooch, but she'd expected that. She still felt kind of flabby, and her boobs felt massive and heavy. But other than that, she was actually starting to feel more like herself again.
The most notable changes, of course, weren't physical. They were just the day-to-day domestics. Sometimes Clarke didn't end up taking a shower until the afternoon, because mornings were devoted entirely to Avery. Bellamy roamed around the house shirtless and in sweatpants most of the time, and Clarke wasn't sure whether that was because he just hadn't found the time to get dressed or because he wanted a lot of that skin-to-skin contact with Avery to promote bonding. Whatever the reason for it was, she was enjoying it. Bellamy looked damn good in dad mode.
In contrast to himself, he always made sure Avery was dressed warmly, because whenever the air conditioner kicked on, he worried about her getting too cold. He liked to swaddle her in blankets and even deemed himself the "Swaddle Master" because he was able to wrap her up quickly. Of course, whenever she used her diaper, he had to completely undo all the swaddling so he could change her. And he did end up changing her a lot. And Clarke was more than happy to let him have at it, because those diapers smelled pretty bad.
Avery's life definitely revolved around eating, pooping, and sleeping, and she was too young to do much playing. But that didn't stop Bellamy from introducing her to the purple bunny he'd won for her at Kane's carnival so many months ago. He made it dance in front of her and put it in her hands, and she loved it. Despite having no teeth, she liked to put the bunny's ears into her mouth and try to chew them. By far her favorite amusement, though, was playing the smile game with her dad. That was what they were calling it. It wasn't exactly peek-a-boo, because Bellamy never hid his face from her. He just sat down on the couch, feet up on the coffee table so he could cradle her in his lap, and he made faces at her. Sometimes just a smile, sometimes a goofy expression. Sometimes he'd stick his tongue out or make his eyes really wide. When he did any of those things, she'd smile up at him. She was too young to laugh, but she looked like she wanted to.
Clarke made sure to get a ton of pictures and videos, of course, because she knew Avery wouldn't be this little for long. Some of her favorite moments to capture were when Bellamy was sitting on the couch or in the recliner doing the skin-to-skin contact thing with Avery while she rested. There he would be, asleep and snoring lightly, holding this tiny baby to his chest while she slept, too. Clarke sometimes got teary when she saw them together like that, because it was the sweetest thing she'd ever seen. Most of those pictures she kept to herself, but she did post some other stuff online to keep their friends in the loop with what's going on, and she sent a few videos to Raven, Harper, and Octavia. Nobody seemed to be holding it against her and Bellamy that they'd decided to take this first week to themselves, but everyone did seem eager to see the baby again.
As self-reliant as they were trying to be, they did end up taking her mom up on an offer to go out and get them groceries for the next couple of weeks. And when Bellamy's mom called him up towards the end of the week and said that she'd be willing to come over and cook them dinner on Mother's Day, he didn't hesitate to agree to it. They both figured that they didn't have to be embarrassed about asking for help, or rather accepting help when it was offered. Bringing a baby home from the hospital was quite the big deal, and even though they were both loving parenthood so far, it still took a lot out of them. Bellamy ended up helping his mom with the meal, though, because he didn't feel right about her slaving away in the kitchen on a holiday that was meant for her, too.
Avery did have her first return to the hospital for a doctor's appointment that week, though. At first, Clarke was concerned when the pediatrician revealed that she'd lost nine percent of her birth weight, but after many reassurances that it was normal for that to happen, she managed to quell her fears. She could tell when Avery started to gain it back, too. So hopefully that meant she was getting all the nourishment she needed through the breastfeeding.
Other than the trip to the hospital, Avery mostly stayed home. She seemed comfy in her crib, and even though it was still too early to tell exactly what her behavior would amount to, so far, she seemed like a pretty well-behaved baby. So when she was nine days old, they decided to try bringing her out with them. Raven and Murphy wanted to have dinner, and they both recognized that they needed to get out of the house for a while, too. Clarke was excited to dress up a little. Nothing too fancy or flashy, of course. After all, her maternity jeans were still her comfiest pair of jeans, and she had to wear a loose, flowy shirt to hide the pooch of her tummy. But going out, even just to Eligius, gave her a reason to put a little makeup on and fix up her hair. Bellamy, as much as he rocked the shirtless sweatpants look, made her salivate whenever he put on dark jeans and a t-shirt. He was just . . . so hot. And once she got the clearance to have sexy times again, she fully intended to remind him just how hot she thought he was.
Everything about going out was different than it used to be. They had to strap Avery's whole carrier into her car seat, which slowed them down and guaranteed that they'd be late, and then when they finally got there, they had to unhook her and haul both her and a big old diaper bag with them. But there was a lot more in there than just diapers: wipes, a changing pad, hand sanitizer, a nursing cover. Not to mention extra clothes, in case things got messy, and breast pads for any leaks she might encounter. It was just not glamorous at all. Not that it needed to be.
When they walked in the bar, Raven barely let them take two steps before she jumped in front of them and asked to hold the baby. That, of course, directed a lot of people's attention at them, and after that, everyone wanted to see the baby, even people Clarke barely knew or hadn't interacted with much since high school. Diyoza was there, so she held her and asked all about her. Clarke didn't hesitate to brag her up while Murphy bought Bellamy a drink.
"She's a good baby," Diyoza said, smiling at Avery.
"Yeah," Clarke agreed, happy to see that she was this alert and this well-behaved on her first big public outing. In fact, she was such a good baby that Clarke had a hard time envisioning passing her off to any sort of babysitter or daycare provider in the coming months. She'd have to find something to do for work, but her days working at Eligius were probably over. She wanted to find a job that she could do from home so that she didn't have to miss out on any time with her.
When they were finally able to sit down in a booth with Raven and Murphy, Clarke already felt tired of being on her feet. But at least that kept her awake. As she sat there, waiting for her food, she felt like she could nod off at any second. Murphy remarked on it right away when he said, "You guys look exhausted."
"We are," Bellamy groaned. Even he had one elbow on the table, his fist pressed to his head as if to hold it up.
"Yeah, last night was rough," Clarke agreed.
"What happened?" Raven asked.
Clarke looked down at the little girl, her carrier wedged in between her and Bellamy. "She woke up at 2:00 in the morning. Wouldn't go back to sleep," she said. She was still a good baby, but last night had been . . . less good.
"She just kept crying and crying," Bellamy said, rubbing his forehead tiredly. "We couldn't figure out what was wrong. Didn't matter what we did. We fed her, burped her, rocked her. I think she was just gassy."
"Babies get really gassy," Clarke said. That was something she'd underestimated, the sheer gas effect of it all.
"I'll bet," Raven said, using her straw to stir her drink. "So who's been changing more diapers?"
Bellamy raised his hand as Clarke pointed at him and said, "This guy."
Murphy snorted and shook his head. "Sucker."
"No, it's fair," Bellamy said, pausing to yawn. "She's feedin' her. I can change her."
They had a good system going in that regard. Which made the thought of changing it up even more worrisome to Clarke. "I'm nervous for tomorrow," she admitted. She sort of felt butterflies in her stomach just thinking about it.
"What's tomorrow?" Raven asked.
"I go back to work," Bellamy said.
"You've done so much," Clarke said, reaching over to rub his back. "And now I have to do it all on my own."
"I'll be home at 4:00," he reminded her.
Realistically, she knew that wasn't such a bad time. 8:00-4:00. A pretty standard day. He'd get home in time to help her with dinner, and they'd still be able to spend some time together before it was time to go to bed. And sleep in spurts. But what if he got home and was so tired that he went to bed right away, and then she and Avery didn't get to spend any time with him at all?
"Clarke, if you need help with anything, you can always call me," Raven offered. "I mean, my boss is my dad. And this one here . . ." She jerked her thumb in Murphy's direction. "He's a YouTuber. Not exactly a rigid work schedule there. He can help you out with whatever you need."
Murphy chuckled and said, "Yeah, I'm the dastardly uncle who's gonna teach the kid all the bad words."
Clarke shot him a sharp glare and warned, "You'd better not." She and Bellamy had already decided that they were going to be extremely cautious about swearing in front of Avery. Or at least try to be. They didn't want her picking up on anything she shouldn't say.
Murphy sank down in his seat just a bit and mumbled, "Threat received. You're scary as a mom."
Damn right, Clarke thought. Better that than a pushover.
"Seriously, though, Clarke, just let us know if you need anything," Raven said. "We'd be happy to help."
"Thank you," Clarke said, willing to keep that in mind. If things got too stressful tomorrow, rather than bothering Bellamy his first day back, she'd give Raven a call. "But right now," she said, struggling to keep her eyes open, "all I really need is sleep."
"Yeah, me, too," Bellamy said. "Sorry, guys, I don't think we're gonna be much fun to hang out with for a while."
"Diyoza!" Clarke called back to her boss. "No food for us. We're just gonna go home." She felt beyond lame having gotten dressed up—sort of—just to hang out for twenty or so minutes. But her body was telling her it was time to go home, and Bellamy's was clearly telling him the same. In fact, the one who seemed the most awake out of the three of them was actually Avery.
"That's alright. You guys go home and sleep," Raven said. "We can get our food and then go home and . . . not sleep."
Murphy grinned. "Hey, I like the sound of that."
"Be careful," Clarke cautioned as she and Bellamy struggled to get out of the booth with Avery's carrier. "Unless you wanna end up with one of these." Perfect as she was, she was still a lot of work.
...
Shouldn't have had that beer, Bellamy thought as he drove home. Not that it impaired his driving abilities or anything—it was one beer—but it'd made him feel even more sluggish. Even when they got home, it wasn't like he could just collapse into bed. He had to throw the laundry in the dryer, because he'd forgotten to do that earlier, and there were some dishes in the sink that he could probably do. He didn't want Clarke to have to worry about any of that household stuff tomorrow.
"I can't wait until this little stump of hers falls off," Clarke said from the backseat.
"I know," he said. "It's kinda weird." Even though it was just the remnant of the umbilical cord, it looked unnatural. "You notice how they never show that in the movies?"
"Oh, there's a lot of stuff they don't show," Clarke said. "Mostly related to the birth. They either make it seem like a breeze or play it off for laughs."
"And they never show you what happens after," he added, slowing to a stop at a red light. Not that he had to press the brake very hard, because he was still just going their special speed limit anyway. "The movie just stops right after the baby's born."
"Yeah, really," Clarke said. "Oh my god, is that what I think it is?"
"What?" He whipped his head around, figuring she was talking about Avery.
"There," she said, pointing out the window. "Football practice? In May?"
He glanced out the driver's side window and noticed the football field in the distance, a familiar array of dark green jerseys trotting around on the light green turf. "Huh," he said. "Yeah, end of the school year, I guess. Summer practice starts right in." He remembered being so thankful for evening practices during the summer, because it was cooler outside and meant he'd get to sleep in.
"Do you ever miss it?" Clarke asked quietly. "I mean, you went from throwing footballs down a field to throwing diapers in the trash."
As the light switched to green, he pressed down lightly on the gas and glided through the intersection. "I don't mind," he said. "I mean, I do miss the game sometimes, but . . . this is better." Back then, he hadn't even known that this was something he would want someday. But now that he had it, this life with this family . . . it meant everything to him. "I'm happy," he told her. A football career had never been in the cards for him. But fatherhood had been.
...
"So are you happy with your decision to come to UCF?" The reporter thrust the microphone back into Bellamy's face, and he actually had to take a step back from it.
"Yeah, it's been great," he said. Even though it was hot as balls on that practice field and he still had all his practice gear on, he couldn't deny that it was kind of a rush getting to do his first interview for UCF's media. He hadn't finished his media training yet, but the coaches had still urged him to get on camera and talk. "I love the university, love the program," he said, remembering how important it was to expand on his answers. "Every day I'm surrounded by great coaches and great teammates, so . . . it's a dream come true."
The reporter took the microphone back and used that as a segue when she said, "Speaking of great coaches, what's been some of the best advice you've gotten so far?"
Hell, he'd gotten a lot, but most of it was detailed technical stuff related to plays. That kind of thing wasn't what the average person tuning in to the news was gonna wanna hear. "Just to not get overwhelmed," he said. "Obviously playing in college is a lot different than playing in high school, so it's an adjustment, but I think it's goin' well."
"Well, Coach Lightbourne spoke very highly of you at his press conference today when he said you're officially the back-up," the reporter said.
"Yeah, that means a lot that he and Coach Desai and all the other coaches have faith in me," Bellamy said. Of course, he couldn't wait to be number one someday, but he'd already bypassed two other guys to get that backup title. "I mean, I'm just a freshman, and I know I still have a lot to learn, but if they need me to go out and take some snaps, I'll go take some snaps. I'm ready."
The reporter smiled. "You sound ready."
"Yeah." He didn't want his team's starting quarterback getting hurt or anything—he didn't wish that on any player—but if Brady needed a break and they were far enough ahead in the fourth quarter, he'd love to go in.
"It's a good thing we have you here then," the reporter said, still smiling.
"Yeah," he said, and upon remembering that it was important to give a good soundbite that the news station could use as their headline for the story, he tacked on, "There's nowhere else I'd rather be." That felt . . . true enough. Maybe not completely true, but true enough to say on camera. He was glad the reporter thanked him for his time and ended the interview after that, though, because he couldn't say anything else about it. Couldn't think too hard about what he'd left behind.
...
All it took was one cry to wake Bellamy up. It had seemed like fate when they'd gotten home and Avery had been ready to be put down for the night, because he and Clarke had barely made it onto the bed before crashing out themselves. But of course it hadn't lasted long. It never did. He didn't sleep very deeply anymore because he was getting so used to waking up.
Beside him, Clarke groaned and didn't move. "It's only been ten minutes."
He managed to lift his head up and check the time on the bedside clock. "Two hours."
"What?"
"It's been two hours," he informed her.
"No way." She turned her head to the side, keeping it pressed against the pillow, and groaned again when she took a look at the clock, too. "I feel like we just laid down."
"I know." He pushed himself up into a sitting position, yawning. "Maybe she just needs to burp," he said as he slid towards the edge of the bed. "I'll go check on her."
"No, I'll go with you," Clarke said, struggling to her feet.
"You don't have to," he said, but he held out his hand to help her out of the bed anyway.
"No, we're doing this together," she said, standing. "Besides, she probably needs fed."
"Whip it out," he said as they head out of the room.
She pulled her shirt up on one side to expose one boob. One huge boob. Not that he'd been noticing. Not that he'd been fantasizing about getting his hands back on them once they weren't so sore.
As it turned out, Clarke was right. Avery had begun to cry because she was hungry. It was really amazing how much of a baby's first few days of life was devoted to eating. And pooping. And sleeping. It wasn't exactly a bad way to live. It had to be hard on Clarke, though. He couldn't imagine being another human being's sole source of nourishment.
"Yep, what'd I tell you?" she said as she sat in her comfy chair with the baby in her arms, cradling her close to her chest. "Hungry little girl. Can you hand me that burping cloth? I think she's gonna need to burp after this."
He gave her the one with cartoon mermaids on it, suppressed a yawn, and asked her, "Is that getting less painful?"
She shrugged as Avery continued suckling away. "Kind of. That nipple cream helps."
He nodded, making a mental note to buy more of that. Even though it was a weird thing for a guy to shop for.
"God, nipple cream and burping cloths," she said, laughing lightly as she shook her head. "Our lives are sexy nowadays, aren't they?"
He chuckled, perfectly fine with it being a little less sexy than it once was. It was definitely a change, going from being just a couple to a couple of parents. It wasn't like they were gonna stop having sex, though, or making each other feel good. They'd just have to work a little harder to find time and energy for that.
"She looks a lot like you," he said, reaching over to stroke the fine hairs on Avery's head. "Your blue eyes, blonde hair."
"Yeah," she agreed. "It might not stay blonde, though. It could get darker."
Like Finn's hair, he thought, trying not to react too much to that. "Yeah, it could," he said. Whatever she ended up looking like was fine. Even if she did look like . . . her biological dad.
Clarke must have sensed that she'd unintentionally struck a nerve. Or not a nerve, really, so much as an insecurity. Because she quickly added, "I think she's gonna be a Daddy's girl," and smiled at him.
"You think so?
"Yeah." She sounded sure. Confident. "She's already got you wrapped around her little finger."
She really did, didn't she? "Are you sayin' I'm gonna spoil her?"
"Probably."
Yeah, he probably would. She deserved it. "How can I not?" he said. "Look at her." Every day with her, every minute so far, had been amazing. She didn't even have to be doing anything special for him to be completely in awe of her.
"Yeah, she's pretty cute," Clarke agreed, helping Avery latch back on again when she moved her head back a bit. She was really good at this mom stuff, really natural. It was pretty incredible to watch her take care of Avery.
He thought about cracking open one of the books to read to his daughter again, or turning on the music so Clarke had something to listen to while he went downstairs and unloaded the dishwasher. But Clarke spoke up again before he could do any of those things. "Bellamy?" she said quietly. "Can I ask you something?"
"Sure," he said. Just talking was a good way to pass the time on nights like these, too.
He was reminded just how much they still had to talk about when she slowly asked, "Does seeing her . . . make you wonder what our baby would have looked like?"
He hadn't expected such a serious question. Not when they were both so tired. Not when they'd be going back to sleep as soon as Avery was full. But if she was going to ask it, then he wanted to answer honestly. "Yeah," he admitted. "You?"
She hesitated a moment, then nodded sadly. "I've been trying not to think about it too much and just be in the moment with her," she said, "but . . . it's hard not to."
Yeah, it was. And maybe, in a way, it always would be. They'd think about it less and less as time wore on, though, and they both dealt with it more. "Maybe our baby would've looked just like her," he said, although that didn't seem realistic. "A little bit darker skin, though. Some freckles." He would have loved to know that child, to raise her. Or him. But it wasn't gonna happen, and he wasn't gonna resent Clarke for all eternity. And he owed it to Avery to not compare her to a son or daughter who'd never been born. He didn't want her growing up worrying that she didn't mean as much to him as a biological child would have. "I don't love her any less just 'cause she's not mine, though," he made sure to tell Clarke. "I hope she knows that."
"She knows," Clarke assured him right away. "And she is yours. That's why she has your last name. That's why you're the one who makes her smile the most. She knows you're her dad."
God, I hope so, he thought. Time would tell, he supposed. But right now, things were feeling good. Avery did smile a lot with him, and sometimes she even stopped crying when he picked her up out of her crib.
"You know, Bellamy, if you wanna go back to sleep, you should," Clarke told him. "You've got work tomorrow. I don't want you to wear yourself out."
"No, I'm good," he said, having no intention of going back to sleep while she was up doing all of this.
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah." He'd be fine waking up tomorrow morning, regardless of how much rest he did or didn't get. "Trust me," he said, his gaze alternating between his girlfriend and his daughter, "right now, there's nowhere else I'd rather be."
