Continuation to chapter I
Olivia's POV
The last few hours of my pregnancy is what I considered the worst time of my life. At some point during that God awful thirteen hours of labor that I've endured, my whole family unified for me in the most beautiful way. I don't think a hospital had ever been filled up so much that night unless you count the people from the movie Delivery Man starring Vince Vaughn. I had my family, the one I built through relationships that thicker than blood and the extended one that I adopted when I said "I do" to Fitzgerald Grant on that fateful night seven years ago.
Because my name and my husband's carry a lot of weight, I'm on a secluded floor in the hospital at James Madison and literally, my whole entire family is camped out in my room. We ordered enough pizza to cure world hunger in my opinion and I have no shame in admitting that I ate a medium box all by myself. If you're judging me, don't because I don't care. I'm a woman of opportunity. I figured, it's my last few hours as a pregnant woman so while I still can, I'm gonna eat as much as I can because if someone dared to call me fat, I can always blame it on pregnancy weigh gain. That way, you've played yourself and you're the one looking stupid and mean as fuck because no one likes a bully or an asshole. Besides, what the hell do you want from me? It's pizza! Any smart person would make the same choice.
Hours later, my room is still filled with laughter fueled by cruel jokes from a bunch of amazing people with a wicked sense of humor. And it's helping me a lot because all that laughter echoing in head is a welcomed distraction from the pain that's ripping from my uterus and threatening to kill me. I'm surrounded by an obnoxious amount of presence, balloons and flowers. It was like having a second baby shower, only this time, I'm severely annoyed and I feel suffocated by all of it. But I smile because it's the gesture that counts and I do appreciate it all. I'm floored by the support and love I'm shown. I look at it as a priceless gift because in a few hours, when that baby is a part of this world and as real as real can get in the flesh, all these people's asses are gonna be on speed dial on my phone for baby sitting duties. I'm not even fucking around.
Diapers are ridiculously expensive and I don't believe in nannies. I've seen way too many Lifetime movies over the course of my pregnancy, so I know what I'm talking about and to be rudely honest, I don't want some crazy bitch with a sweet smile to infiltrate my house, piss on my property and take what's mine. My family is the one thing I don't play about and where it concerns Fitz specifically if it ever comes down to it, I won't hesitate twice about fucking up a bitch. I will cut a bitch! I said what I said and I'm not taking it back.
…
After what seemed to have been an eternity, it's finally come down to my last hour of labor. A nurse had to come with one of those laundry bins to put all my gifts in it in order to free up some space in the room. At eight centimeters dilated, I'm forced to kick my family out of the room because my baby's coming. He or she is ready to see my face because it's kicking my vagina and I'm not happy if the series of blasphemies and screams escaping my lips are any indication.
"What if there are twins in there?" Fitz asked.
He's an idiot, so I'm sure he thought it was funny but he couldn't have the worst timing because as soon as those words escaped his lips, he wanted to take them back when I unleashed my wrath on him.
"Have you lost your fucking mind, Fitzgerald?" I seethed as I squeezed hard on his hands. Not to hurt him on purpose but because his big headed ass baby thought it was fun to continue kicking my vagina like it's his or her religion. Not to mention the fact that I didn't get my epidural shot because apparently I was already "too dilated" for it to be submitted to me when I got to the hospital-I'm not entirely too pleased at the moment. "Do you have a death wish?" I can barely fathom pushing out one big headed Grant now this fool is talking about two. That's ground for justifiable murder, right? I can kill him and get away with it, correct?
I don't think I realized just how scared I was until my doctor walked in the room with a statoscope around her neck, glasses perched up on her nose and a way entirely too bright smile. I like the woman. Dr. Callahan is a fantastic doctor if I do say so myself, but right now, while I'm in such excruciating pain and she has that stupidly bright smile on her lips, I can't help but want to fight the woman and wipe the smile off her lips. And if you're still judging me, just remember, no one likes a mean asshole. I'm extremely hormonal and in pain! And on that note, kiss my entire ass.
"Hello, Grants." Dr. Callahan greeted.
I'm in the middle of a contraction so I'm sure what I meant for to be a smile looked a lot like a pained grimace. Dr. Callahan offers me a sympathetic look in return as she takes my vitals. I'm pretty certain that my blood pressure is to the roof.
"How are we feeling?" She asked.
I'm in no mood to make small talk and the more and more my doctor speaks as opposed to working on getting that baby out of me as fast as possible without inflicting any pain on me, the more I wanna punch the woman in the throat. Then again, I had to take a long deep breath as sweat start to bead on my forehead. I had to remind myself that this woman didn't do this me. Fitzgerald Thomas Mighty-dick Grant the Third was responsible for the mess that I currently was.
"I'm feeling absolutely great." I replied sarcastically. "Get this damn baby out of me!"
Dr. Callahan laughed. She's not making it very hard for me to not punch her at all. "You're almost there." She said. Then she turns to Fitz who was smiling like a damn idiot. I wanted to punch him too. "How's dad feeling?"
His palms get suddenly sweaty and I can hear his heartbeat thumping in my ear. He's gonna have a damn heart attack if he doesn't calm the fuck down. I can tell that he's finally getting nervous and it's not helping. I think I liked it better when he was all excited and laid back about the whole thing because then, it meant that at least one of us knew what the hell we were gonna do with a new born baby. But silly me, right? We've never done this before! We're both new at this parent thing!
Holy shit!
We're in deep fuckery.
"Olivia, breathe for me, honey." Dr. Callahan takes a soothing tone with me.
Fitz's arms is instantly at my back as he mimics one of the breathing techniques we learned in our childbirth preparation class. One of the many things I loved about my pregnancy is that Fitz was very engaged. He was the perfect husband to me throughout my entire pregnancy and that's why I can't really murder him at this very moment. He was present for every single doctor appointment, he went to every single class, he read every single book and he indulged my ridiculous cravings with glee. And when I threw my hormonal, insecure fits, he never got upset with me. He didn't dismiss my insecurities when I couldn't fit into my favorite pair of jeans. Instead, you know what he did? I'll tell you what he did. He grabbed my hand, took me to a full sized mirror, stood behind me and made me stare at myself as he told me how beautiful I looked. And then to prove just how true his words were when I worried I wouldn't turn him on anymore because I was a disgusting mess- (and I mean really disgusting,) he bend me over our bathroom sink and rearranged my internal organs with deep thrusts, smacking my ass and pulling my hair until he brought me the greatest release and satisfaction. It was heavenly.
So I can't hate him. Not even if I wanted to because he's been nothing short of amazing to me, to this baby and I had no doubt in my mind that he was gonna an incredible father.
"I'm scared!" I turned to Fitz and burst into tears. "I'm so fucking scared."
He smiled at me with watery eyes before kissing my forehead. "Good." He said. "We're scared together."
You know what? Fuck him!
I hated him for doing this to me, but God, do I love him!
…
Twenty minutes later, I promise you as God is my only witness, I didn't feel the same way!
I wanted to strangle Fitzgerald Thomas Grant.
"Olivia, that baby's not waiting another second. You need to push." Dr. Callahan said as she admitted gloves to her hands.
I shook my head from side to side as if I had a fucking choice in the matter. Like I could just snap my fingers and decide that, that little sucker can go back in there for nine more months because to hell with giving birth. No sir! If only. The next contraction that hits me fully solidifies that I have absolutely no choice in the matter. This baby is coming whether I want it to or not.
"You're crowning, Olivia! Come on, push!"
The next few minutes are a complete blur to me. I see nothing. Every back ground noise is deaf to my ears but I feel everything. It's like I'm in a trance, stuck in a moment of permanent pain unknown to human kind and time has no meaning. All I keep thinking is that I didn't sign up for this shit as my guts are being ripped from within me.
People tell you how beautiful having a child is. They talk about the immeasurable joy that comes with having a brand new baby in your arms. They go on and on about how this world suddenly becomes this magical and wonderful place to be a part of after having a baby. They sell that possible reality to you in a beautiful box with a nice red bow on top of it so that's it's everything that you want.
Well, people are dirty mother fucking liars!
What they don't tell you comes with this beautiful box with the nice red bow is the all the pain. What they don't make you privy to is all the agony that literally splits you in half, chews in and spits you out. What they don't mention is all the emotions that overwhelm you and threaten to drain you of all your energy while trying to push out a full sized human being out of your vagina.
Jesus.
H.
Roosevelt, Christ!
"I can't…" I'm not myself. To me, this almost feels like an out of body experience. Like I'm just watching all of this happen. But I feel everything with the same intensity as well. "I can't anymore." I feel drained and I truly don't want to do it anymore.
"Yes you can!" Fitz barked.
I shook my head. At this point, I can't even differentiate which are my tears or sweat. "I'm dying, Fitz." I said.
"No you're not!" He cried.
"Don't patronize me. It's okay." I almost make peace with the fact that I'm really dying and the bitch of it is that I believe it. "Just promise me you won't let our child become a drunk or a slut, okay?"
I don't know what's funny but Fitz is laughing. He cups my face in his hand and press his forehead against mine as he looked into my eyes. "Olivia Pope…" I start smiling too despite all the pain because I know whatever speech he's going to give me right now is gonna be one for the books. Fitz doesn't like to call me Olivia Pope. Not since we got married but every once in a while, when I really need one of those Rocky-before-the-fight speeches, he'll get into the role of a sensei. He'll dress me up in armor, hand me my sword, kiss my lips and send me to battle like the gladiator that I am, knowing that I'm fully prepared. I was just in need of the little push. And right now, in this scenario, nothing is different. He's being by my side-my person for the umpteenth time. "You're the strongest, most badass, beautiful woman I've ever known. Don't tell me you can't, baby. You can and you will." With that, he kisses my lips like always before climbing behind me on the bed. His legs go on either side of my waist and then I hear his voice in my ears guiding me through it.
"If I survive this and you so much as think about touching me again, I'll castrate you, Fitzgerald!"
He laughs but he doesn't know how fucking serious I am. "Okay."
…
The world is blank and soundless once it's all done and over with. I feel peace, I feel relief and that's all good. But I don't feel that burst of happiness until I hear his voice. There's a quiet hum before I hear it. It's soothing and then a beat later, it just sounded like the most catastrophic, chaotic sound when his deafening cries fill my ears and it's the best sound in the world to me. I know in that very instant what I just endured was a walk in the park once I've been blessed with the sound of his voice… and when he's placed in my arms, I know I could spend the rest of my life doing this again a thousand times a day. In a heartbeat.
Born just seconds ago, he's brand new, he's captivating, he's unreal. He's perfect.
As soon as he's placed in my arms, his cries subside as if he knows he's reached home, My breath is knocked out of my lungs and I can't help but stare. Laid there in my open arms blissfully unaware, untainted, and perfect, I couldn't believe that this beautiful, flawless little human being is a product of me and my husband. He's mine. He's ours. Really ours. Damn, God is good!
I count ten little fingers and ten little toes and when I touched his skin, my fingers tingled with the softness I'm met with. Then the most amazing thing happened to me. Just as he begins to fall asleep, he grasped my finger with his entire little hand as if he knows who I am to him already and he feels completely safe with me. Suddenly, my world as I knew it before completely shifted as this little boy crawled his way into my heart. I'd fallen in love with another Grant and as blissful, joyful tear fill my eyes, I leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss on my baby's head.
Our hearts started to beat as one. I hear it. I feel it. And everything's right with the world. Everything is changed. It's also then that I whispered a promise into my son's ears. A promise to love him infinitely; a promise to protect him from all evil infinitely; a promise to always be there. So help me God.
I look back at my husband to see him crying tears in big droplets. He has on his face a look I've never seen before. It's more than happiness, it's more than bliss. It's something ethereal and I knew it had everything to do with the little bundle of perfection I held in my arms.
"I can't believe he's finally here." Fitz whispered.
I understood perfectly what he meant because I felt the same too. With Fitz's hand embracing me, I easily slipped one hand from beneath the baby and replaced it with his and then the other until Fitz was completely holding him in his arms. His whole body started trembling behind me as he buried his face deep in my neck, his tears soaking my hospital gown. I knew exactly what he was feeling. His world as he used to know it was not only being transformed, but he too was becoming a new person. All the love bubbling inside of him was also something intense and new; something unexpected; something eternal. He was complete.
I watched Fitz graze a lone finger across his brow and I listened intently to the sound of my son breathing and beating heart. And suddenly, I couldn't even picture my life before him.
"He's so perfect." Fitz cooed. "So perfect."
I leaned back against Fitz's chest as he captured my lips in a breathless kiss. We were so lost in our own bubble, so deeply captivated by the new life in our arms that we just kinda let ourselves be. We didn't think to go announce to our awaiting family that there was a new member in our family who is beyond perfection. We just wanted to immobilize time and let this moment be something that lasted forever. And it almost did until a nurse came in and asked us if we had a name picked out yet.
…
Three days after Prince Lucas Elias Pope-Grant was born, we were kicked out of James Madison Hospital with a clean bill of health. As Fitz fastened up the car seat in the back of our private car that day, I waited in the parking lot for reality to sink in as Lucas slept peacefully in my arms without a care in the world. I waited for me to freak out and demand Fitz that we take him back, but all I kept doing was going back to him like a magnet- staring at him with all the adoration in the world as he slept and wondering what he was dreaming about. I kept expecting the breathlessness I felt to go away but every time I looked at him, it felt like I was just seeing him for the first time again and my heart filled up, close to bursting with all the love I felt for that little man.
888
Olivia's POV
One month later…
I'm kicking ass at this motherhood thing!
Flashbacks:
I wake up every day feeling humbled with the intensity in which I love my son. I don't think I'll ever be able to fully put into words how it feels to be a mom to such a perfect little human being. The first night we brought Lucas home, I burst into tears as soon as we crossed the threshold because for the first time in my life, I felt like everything was right with the world. That first night was easy and I took the opportunity to get as much sleep as possible since all people tell you is that sleep no longer is a factor after one becomes a new parent.
Two weeks later, I think it's all bullshit because my baby had to be the most laid back child on the planet. He spends fifteen hours a day sleeping and being perfect. When he wakes up, he barely cries. He just whimpers until he's picked up to be fed, cleaned and then he's right back to sleep, sucking on his tongue-being the most adorable bundle of cuteness you could ever imagine.
I on the other, I'm different. During my pregnancy, I read a ton of books and articles telling me how my views of the world will change after having my baby and while that may not be true for every mother out there, it was true for me. I'm not sure when it happened, maybe it was since the very moment Lucas was placed in my arms but I'm forever changed and I'm not afraid to admit it.
My eyes were much more open now. I find that many things no longer mattered to me anymore as new things started to matter much more. My way of doing things changed tremendously. I thought about things in more depth. I was softer and more gentle. I even spoke differently and I find that I could control my anger better. I loved harder. I was always cautious when making decision before but now, I find that I'm more calculated with the choices and decisions I make.
Case in point:
At two weeks old, Fitz and I decided to make our first public appearance since Lucas was born. With Fitz's family history and him being the Governor of New York and me basically running my own crisis firm, ruling New York City one dirty file at a time and playing Captain Savior for some of the biggest names in the politics, we're both in the public eye and we're ranked as one of the most elite couples there ever was. Don't let all that shit fool you though. Fitz and I are pretty private. More so now because of Lucas. Anyways, to make a long story short, we made our first public appearance together two weeks after I'd given birth. That particular day, I was feeling kind of insecure about my body so I got all geared up in sports attire and strapped my baby into his stroller. I was ready for a five miles run and no one could stop me. I'd forgotten that no one was expecting me to bounce back and start walking around the place like Beyoncé after having just given birth- because realistically, who the hell really bounced back that fast?
But for some reason that day, I wasn't thinking about it like that. I was still hormonal, I was feeling like shit and was absolutely disgusted with myself. Looking in the mirror, I knew I was looked fine but I was different so with the extra fat around my waist, I thought my husband would never look at me the way he used to and if Fitz stopped looking at me like I was the sexiest and hottest thing to him, he certainly wouldn't fuck me anymore. I was pissed and on a mission to lose all the weigh I'd gained in one day.
"Why do you look like someone's running after you?" Fitz asked when I was halfway out of the house.
I thought I'd left him asleep upstairs and I cursed him for having the worst timing in the world. I didn't want him to see me like this.
"Just going for a run." I replied.
He's frowning like he's onto me. Like he knows I'm being ridiculous and he's gonna make me talk about it even though I have no intention of letting him know just how disgusted I feel with myself. "Your stitches aren't healed yet." He said.
Like I didn't know!
"I meant a walk." I recanted.
Now he knows I'm bullshitting him.
"Fine." He sighed. "Just give me a minute to change and I'll come with."
I don't know how to tell him that I don't want him to come with me. I become frustrated with myself and I can feel the tears coming so I take a deep breath before the damn dam broke and I'm forced to confess what truly is bothering me.
Twenty minutes later, we're out the door. Fitz's security detail joins us on foot after parking a car just two miles from our location. They tail behind us, looking like normal civilians and you'd never guess in a million years that they were actually government registered weapons — trained and able to kill with a poke of the finger. Fitz pushed the stroller with one hand as the other is wrapped around my waist. I'm lost in my own head as we walk a bike trail nearby a lake. It's on the other side of Manhattan and it's very beautiful at this time of the year when the spring weather is just right. Despite being known to the public, we're not bothered by people and that's exactly why I loved New York. It's not Hollywood where there would be about sixty cameras in our faces by now, as we're being harassed by paparazzis and bombarded with a million questions about Lucas and our personal life in general since we became parents. Here in New York though, everyone just goes about their business so we're able to blend in and look like any regular couple just having an evening stroll.
We don't talk much although I'm sure Fitz can tell that I'm in a mood and I appreciate him all the more for not pushing me to share.
Of course, as irony would have it, out of all the places in the world we could end up at an hour later, we find ourselves at the super market where we run the risk of being recognized. With the help of our black caps, we were in perfect disguise which made it easier for us to freely move without worrying about becoming front page news by the eleven o'clock news later that night.
As we browsed the shopping aisles, I found myself examining the nutrition facts for every item that went in the cart. I guess I could chop it off to me being a very picky eater, but even that was debatable at the moment with the way I was feeling. Occasionally, I would catch Fitz snooping in some unhealthy junk in the cart and it's the funniest thing to me because I could swear that he thought he was being discreet about it. He has the sweetest sweet tooth for a guy and all those things he "sneaks" into the cart are things that are prone to put him one step closer to a heart attack so it became a game for me to switch up all those junk for something healthier or less strong in sugar and in size.
Next, we stacked up on meat, lots of fruits and veggies. And when we were ready to pay, we let one of the agents check us out at the register while the other one took off about ten minutes earlier to go pull our car around.
By the time we get home, Lucas is awake and alert. He's sucking on his tongue and putting his hands in his mouth which is usually a sign that he's hungry so I rush to feed him his eight o'clock bottle before I get a monster on my hands. I save the breast feeding method for much later, like in the middle of the night when he's having trouble going back to sleep. I can pretend it's all him but the truth is, I loved breast feeding him early in the morning and late at night because I feel so connected to him during those hours. It's the most ridiculous thing but I find myself talking to him and telling him all my little secrets like he understood me. But it's our way of bonding and it's very special. When I coo or sing to him while I rock with him in the chair in the nursery, I can almost swear that he smiles even though I know it's just gas.
Much later after my little man is put to bed and I'm fresh out of the shower, I heard Fitz downstairs going through the food pantry. I hear the loud ruffling of bags and the slamming of cabinets before he's screaming my name from the bottom of the stairs. I don't even have to ask why he's yelling. I know I'm busted.
I get downstairs and the sight I'm met with is not a happy one.
"Yes, Fitzgerald?" I play coy.
He's still looking through the cabinets. "Any idea where my box of chocolate bars went?" He asked.
"I switched them out for the peanut and oatmeal ones." I replied.
When Fitz's attention turn fully to me, he's visibly popping a vein. His eyes are wide with anger as he yelled: "Those are boring!"
See, now that's just a lie. In my opinion, nature valley bars are very delicious and the fact that they're very healthy in protein was a bonus.
"Would you calm down, please?" I pleaded with him.
He's just now catching on that I've switched up all his snacks. His favored salted, vinegar potato chips had been switched for slightly salted ones. He absolutely hates because to him they tasted like saltines. Tasteless and boring! His spirits were crushed when he found out that the store-made American cupcakes he'd picked were also left behind and instead were replaced with macarons.
Oh he was seething! I'm pretty sure he hated me in that moment but you see, that was fine by me because I did it in the name of love. That heart attack I was worried about is no longer pending. Hell, it's non-existent to me at this point. I could take him being mad at me over some stupid snack if he meant I got him for another sixty years. I needed him around for a very long time.
"I bet you didn't switch out your popcorns for something boring!" He shouted. "That's so unfair, Olivia." As I looked at his face just then, I couldn't help the laugh that escaped my lips. It was like I was getting a little snippet into the future when Lucas is much older and I won't let him make poor eating choices. The image warmed my heart just as much as it churned my stomach. Even though I knew I had nothing to worry about as of yet because Lucas was still very much my perfect little baby, I also knew that time moves fast and there's gonna come a day when he's gonna grow up. It wasn't even here yet but I dreaded that day coming with all my being.
"Why in the hell would you do that for?" He finally asked.
"Because I want you to live." My answer must've sounded completely preposterous to him because he just stood there and stared at with arms folded over his chest as if I'd sprout a second head. "I know it sounds ridiculous to you but I want our children to have a father who's healthy and can spend hours in our yard, goofing around with them."
I must've said something good because in the middle of my monologue, he started giving me this look. It's a look I know very well and it never fails to make me weak in the knees or send butterflies swimming in my stomach. It's the same look that's had me jump him like a bitch in heat multiple times and have me drilled against a wall.
"What?" I asked, blushing. I pushed a strand of curls behind my ears and looked at my feet. Fitz has been many things to me over the course of my life. He's been my best friend, my crush, my lover, my boyfriend, my first real heartbreak, and then, it rotated back in cycles as we grew and became more experienced with the world. He's been my second chance, my partner, my fiancé, my husband, my soulmate and now, the father of my child. There's a lot of history between us which is why, I can't believe that after all these years of knowing this man, he still has the ability to make me act like I'm fifteen all over again with just one look. All my insecurities about the way I looked from early is thrown out of the window into thin air because at the moment, with this man's eyes on me, I feel like a Goddess and I know that to him, I looked every bit the part.
"Why are you looking at me like that, Grant?"
Gone was the temper tantrum he was throwing just seconds ago and before I know it, he's approaching me and gathering me up in his arms, still wearing that stupid 'I'm-in-love-with-you' look on his face along with a small smile that certainly reached his vibrant blue eyes. One of my hands is brought to his lips as the other one is wrapped around his waist. We look like a cliché swaying barefoot in our pajamas in the middle of our kitchen. For God's sake, we had a baby, we were parents but for some reason, we were stuck acting like we were nineteen and the best part of it is that I fell in love with him just a little bit more because of that.
"You said children." He finally spoke. "As in more than one. As in somewhere up here in that beautiful brain of yours, you're thinking about letting me knock you up again in the nearest future." His smile gets bigger and he looks more like a cute idiot with every word. "Do you want more kids, Mama?"
I nod to him. We were barely a month in with our first baby and already we were discussing having more when a year ago, we barely uttered the word kids out loud to each other as if it wasn't even part of the English dictionary.
"I do." I replied. Bending my head, I hid my face in his chest to hide the color creeping up on my cheeks. "I know it sounds crazy to be having this conversation so soon after Lucas but I do… I want more kids with you." Looking back up at Fitz, I can't help but shake my head. "I want a whole soccer team of them."
Even as he wore the happiest smile on his face, Fitz started feeling my forehead for a temperature because clearly, something had to be wrong with me. I don't usually talk about this kind of stuff and I guess it came as a shock to him that I was even entertaining the idea of more kids.
"Stop it." I chuckled, smacking his hand away.
A few minutes later, he's still staring at me with that look and I can't stand how nauseously girlish it makes me feel. "Are you gonna say anything?" I asked.
He shrugged, shaking his head. "I just love you." He said.
And then I'm being kissed breathless. It's the best kind of kiss. It's the kind of kiss that lifts you off the ground, ruins you and leaves you wanting more. It's the kind of kiss that poets write about. It's the kind of kiss that makes the stars in the sky shine and makes the world seem bright. It's the kind of kiss that take forever and no time at all. It's everything. And it's my favorite kind of all.
888
Week three approached fast and throughout it, Lucas is still my perfect infant who sleeps fifteen hours a day. I get a lot of visitors throughout the week who are still dropping gifts. I don't know what the hell I'm gonna do with all of it but one of the guest rooms in the house is filled with baby crap that Lucas will either grow out of in no time or never get to use at all. But as I said before, it's the thought that counts.
On Thursday, Lucas is a little fussy when he wakes up. With allergy season in session, I take his temperature to make sure he's not gonna be coming down with nothing before we sat down in our rocking chair for our bonding hour while I breastfeed. I honestly love the way his little palm rest on my chest as he latches on my breast and when he's finally able to taste the milk, he makes the cutest sounds.
We spend the day with my mom and Abby who fawn over his cuteness the whole time. At three weeks old, I'm convinced that I've bred the best looking baby there ever was. Mr. Lucas Pope-Grant is his father through and through on most days. He's got the smoothest, softest, most beautiful caramel complexion; clearly a mixture of both Fitz and I. His hair is a crazy mess of silky raven curls. He's got my button nose (thank God) and also my lips but it's his eyes that are the most captivating. Framed by thick dark lashes, they're the most striking shade of cornflower blue. More than the beautiful color and shape of them, it's the innocence held behind them that stole one's breath and clung to their heartstrings. He's truly perfect.
Fitz and I look at him every day and take in the change in him because we don't wanna miss a thing. Most nights, we bicker about whether or not the color of his eyes will eventually change as he grows bigger. While Fitz wants them to change to a honey brown or a really light hazel, I say I don't really care because either way, he'll still be perfect and I'll still love him but secretly, deep down in my heart, I hope they stay the color they are, forever young, innocent and captivating.
Lucas stayed wide awake throughout the whole day, supposedly to put on a show for the ladies and keep us entertained as my mother so cleverly put it. Already at three weeks old, he was a ladies man. It came with the title of being a Grant man. He only fell asleep after his bath and mid-day feeding but that was only for a couple of hours. He was up again just in time when Fitz got home for the office. They goofed around together in the living room on the couch for hours. He only started fussing again when he was tired of Fitz waving his phone in his face for an obnoxious amount of selfies.
"Sick of your old man already?" Fitz pouted. "I thought you were my best guy, buddy? What's going on?"
I laughed at them as I brought Fitz two bottles. A medium one with milk and a small one with water.
"I'd be sick of you too if you spent fifteen minutes waving a phone in my face." I bend down and finally kiss his lips. "Hi, Papa."
"Your mama's trynna get freaky with me, buddy." He said. "You okay with that?"
I could've sworn Lucas groaned in disapproval. In waving his tiny little hands, he ended up smacking Fitz in the face. No harm was done but I could've sworn that was on purpose too.
Fitz's eyes widen. "Did you see that, baby? He just smacked me!" He marveled as I fastened a bib around Lucas's neck. "He's not about sharing his mommy. I don't think he likes that idea at all."
"The apple doesn't fall very far from the tree." I remarked.
A grin blossomed on Fitz's face as he looked at me. "And just what are you implying Carolyn Grant?"
I rolled my eyes. "All I'm saying is, I know a very possessive man just like that and I happened to have married him and had his baby."
Fitz looked at the cobalt blue wedding band on his left fourth finger. The words 'ever thine, ever yours, ever ours' were engraved inside the band and every time Fitz looked at that ring, it was a reminder of the best choice he's ever made in his life. "So I supposed I'm the very possessive man you're speaking of?" He smirked.
I shrugged. "If the shoe fits." I replied, handing him the bottle of milk. "Feed him. I'm gonna go masturbate in the shower."
"Okay." He said.
I'd barely made it to the bottom of the staircase when I heard my name being shouted. I guess he had finally registered what I said and I couldn't help but laugh. I know, I'm cruel. Still, don't let yourself be fooled. Fitz is a savage compared to me.
…
Later that night…
Nothing could prepare me for the onslaught of screeching that awakened me at three o'clock in the morning that night. As soon as the sound came through the baby monitor, I nearly jumped out of bed, convinced that there must be a monster in my child's bedroom because up until that very moment, Lucas had never gone passed a few levels of whimpers to let me know when he needed me.
Flicking on the light at my entrance in the room, I tied my robe as I felt a little bit chilly before I approached the crib in which my son was screaming his little lungs off. For a few seconds, I just stared at him, his little short legs were kicking in his onesie and his face was becoming red. I just stood there and watched him, completely shocked that such a tiny little person possessed such powerful sets of lungs that could elicit such voluminous screams. It threw me off a little bit.
"Shhh… I'm here, baby." I cooed. "Mommy's got you." I picked him up from his crib and bounced my way towards the changing area with him.
His pacifier kept him occupied as I changed his full diaper but before I could finish dressing him up again, the screeching begin again. I tried to work as fast as possible to get him fed but apparently I wasn't being quick enough because the screaming only got louder.
My heart rate speeds up just a little bit because I'm not used to this from him yet. He doesn't normally wake up at three o'clock in the morning. When I put him to sleep at eight, he usually wakes up once at twelve on the dot and I feed him again before he's passed out again till morning at six o'clock. This was new to me.
We got downstairs successfully with him working on quieting down. I made his bottle in under two minutes, a skill that I'm very proud of and then I took a seat around the dinning room table with him on my lap. Everything's wonderful after that as he feeds and slowly, I feel myself calming down too. Usually, he doesn't even finish his bottle before he's fast asleep again but tonight, I get hysterical screaming again halfway through feeding time.
Now I'm freaking out as I stand up to walk the perimeter of the kitchen with him. It's not working. I try giving him some water, he rejects that. I try the pacifier, that ends up across the room. I try singing, I get more tears. I don't know what else to do with him because all my mommy tricks are failing tonight. Playing with his hair usually gets him to calm down but tonight, it does nothing to soothe my baby. I feel tears starting to brim behind my eyes because what if he's sick? At the thought, I run upstairs for a thermometer to get his temperature. He's fine. Temperature is normal so there is no signs of fever. I try kisses next, those don't do shit.
Fitz is very dead to the world right now and I'm in the middle of what I've resigned to be my child's first full meltdown and I can't do nothing to help him because nothing I do is working.
"Come on, pumpkin. What's wrong?"
I've never felt more useless and powerless than in this very moment and just when I think I might burst into tears along with Lucas, Fitz comes stumbling down the stairs, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, wearing nothing but a pair of flannel pajama bottoms.
"I've tried everything." I informed my husband. "What's wrong with our baby, Fitz?"
He wiped my fallen tears away and kissed my lips before grabbing Lucas from me. "He's fine, Mama. Go take a minute. I got him."
Feeling defeated and like a failure to my own child, I didn't even fight Fitz on his request. I just walked back up the stairs, feeling a strong urge to go cry my soul out. I'm his mom and I couldn't calm him down. Maybe I wasn't as good at this motherhood thing as I thought I was.
Five minutes later, I hear nothing. Not a sound and I guessed it was because I was locked away in the bathroom with red puffy eyes, feeling sorry for myself. I wanted to know if Lucas was still crying so I got out of the room and put an ear out to listen if I could still hear him. Nothing. Not a peep.
Wanting to know what exactly did the trick of calming him down, I made my way down the stairs and when I walked into the living room, I'm greeted with the most beautiful sight that instantly melts away all my doubt and self-pity about being a good mother to my son.
There in the living room, sitting on the couch in front of the TV are my two favorite boys watching some encore of a basketball game on the ESPN channel. Fitz had stripped off Lucas's onesie so he's naked from the top down much like his father. Chest to chest with his pacifier in his mouth, I watched Lucas listen intently to his father as Fitz explained all the plays being shown. They were bonding.
It was then that I realized that not every victory can or has be mine when it came to parenting and luckily for my son, he's got an incredible father who knows just what he needs and when. Fitz called Lucas his best guy and it dawned on me that although he was just three weeks old, my little boy knew that his father was his best guy too and he could count on him for moments as simple as watching basketball games. More than incredible and completely heart-swelling, this was a teachable moment for me.
After a few minutes, Fitz must've of sensed my presence in the room because he turned around and winked at me as he waved me over. "There's space here for you too, mommy."
I gladly walked over and when I'm close enough, he wraps his arms around my neck and pull me in against his naked chest. I'm comforted by the warmth of his soft skin and his masculine scent.
I always felt like Fitz could read my mind so it didn't come as a surprise to me when he pressed a kiss at the crown of my head and whispered: "You're still the best mom in the world to him."
"I know." I smiled as I pressed a kiss on his shoulder. "He just needed you on this one."
Fitz nodded. "He needed me." He sounded close to tears as he said it. "My son needed me."
And in that moment, I knew just how much this all meant to him. He felt like a father and he was a damn great one. I fell in love with him just a little bit more.
A few minutes later, Fitz spoke again. His voice was laced with love and adoration as he stared at our sleeping monster on his chest. "We made a damn good looking kid." He said.
Bare chested and sucking on his pacifier with his tiny little hand balled in a fist under his chin, I couldn't help but feel that breathlessness again as I stared at my son. I could only agree with Fitz. "We did."
Crying monster or not, Prince Lucas Elias Grant was still my perfect baby and watching him asleep on my husband's chest fully solidified what I already knew. He knows not of the brutality of this world; he knows not of the evil darkness that's resides deep inside everyone. He knows nothing. And that's what makes him perfect.
Right then, I felt very compelled to grab my husband's face and kiss him into a world of perfection and I did just that, wasting no time. I kissed him and he kissed me back. It's a kiss filled with a lot of promises for more moments like these but more than that, it's also filled with gratefulness.
Instead of saying those three little words we both know to be true to each other, we decided to end the night with a new beginning. And it all starts up again with a word we're both very familiar with.
"Hi." I whispered.
He wore that stupid look again and he looked very much like my cute idiot.
"…Hi."