Friday, Sept 30, 2022- 38 weeks

"Amy?" I mumble, rolling over and not finding my wife next to me. It's been weeks since she's made it through the night without using the restroom. She'll return in a few minutes. I settle back into my pillow and await her return. Feeling myself start to doze off again, I force myself awake, sitting up this time, "Amy?" I call out, louder this time.

I hear a quiet, "In here," come from the bathroom.

I wait another moment, flipping the covers back when it doesn't sound like Amy is finishing up in the bathroom. Knocking gently on the door, she indicates I may enter and find her in the tub. "Why are you taking a bath at," I check my watch, "one-thirty-six?"

"Don't freak out, but I think I might be in the early stages of labor. My back was hurting on and off throughout the evening. I couldn't get comfortable enough to sleep and thought a bath might help. Did you know intermittent back pain can be a sign of labor?" Dropping to my knees, I rest my forearms against the edge of the tub. Amy's right hand finds mine, "I think our son is going to be born before the weekend is over."

I thought we'd have another week and a half before I heard the words that our son was on his way. "Are you having contractions? Why didn't you tell me? You could've woken me."

"I don't know. I don't think I'm having contractions."

How doesn't she know if she's having contractions? "I've read they feel like strong menstrual cramps. Are you having any cramping?"

"Not consistently and not since I got in the bath half an hour ago. I thought I could take a bath and come back to bed. I was going to wake you if it started to be more regular." This woman. She's not saying it, but even when she's preparing to do what might be the most difficult thing she's ever done, she's thinking of me, not wanting to wake me and lose sleep while she takes a bath. "Now help me up." I stand first, then hold out my hands to assist Amy over the side of the tub. She steps out while I reach for the towel from the hook on the back of the door. Draping the towel around my wife's shoulders, I pull her close to me, wrapping my arms around her, not caring that she's dripping wet. "Your pajamas are getting soaked."

Placing a kiss atop her head, I state, "I don't care. Let's get you dried off and go back to bed for as long as we're able. We might not get much sleep the next few days."

Saturday, Oct 1, 2022- 38 weeks

Sleep does not come easy over the next few hours, but we make it through the night until my alarm indicates it's time for Dr. Who. "How are you feeling?" Is the first thing out of my mouth as I roll over and find Amy sitting up, pressing a hand against the side of her stomach.

"I'm having a contraction. It's not too bad yet. I've had period cramps worse than this."

It's happening. Our son is on his way. Kissing Amy's cheek, I smile, "Can I do anything for you? How far apart are your contractions?"

We're not supposed to go to the hospital until Amy's water breaks or her contractions are less than five minutes apart. I need to know if we should be getting ready to go to the hospital soon or if I should be making breakfast. "They've been twelve to fifteen minutes apart; we've got plenty of time. You should go watch Dr. Who." Now I'm torn as to what I should be doing. I know from our friends that this can either take hours or go quickly. "I'm going to try sleeping a little longer."

Kissing Amy's cheek once more, I slip out of bed and turn back as I reach the door, "Call me if you need anything: a glass of water, something to eat, or a hand to hold when the contractions get too painful."

"Thank you, Sheldon."

I watch Dr. Who like it's any other Saturday morning, while also keeping an ear out for signs Amy needs me. The show ends and I find myself preparing myself a cup of tea and a second for her. I enter our bedroom with a cup in both hands. "I made you tea," I whisper, not wanting to startle Amy, who appears to have dozed off. She stirs and reaches for it. "How're you feeling?"

"The contractions are getting stronger and more frequent. I think I want to take a shower." I get dressed while Amy's showering and putter around the bedroom, suddenly not wanting to be far from her. She emerges, wrapped in a towel with another around her hair. "Can we go to the hospital?"

My eyes go wide at this request. I thought we'd have hours before needing to make the trek across town. "Did your water break? Did the contractions get closer together while you were in the shower?"

"The midwife said I'll know what I need to do and it's okay to come in before my water breaks or if my contractions aren't five minutes apart."

"Oh, okay. Um," I've suddenly forgotten everything we've discussed regarding what needs to happen when it's time. Spying the suitcase in the corner of the room, it all comes flooding back to me. "I'll put the bag in the car while you get dressed. Do you want me to call Penny or Bernadette or your parents?"

Amy takes a few steps toward me, grasping my hands in hers. "No. I want this to be just us until after he's here, then we can tell everyone."

It's a nerve-wracking drive to the hospital with Amy whimpering every few minutes while reminding me that she was okay and to focus on the road. Amy called ahead to let them know we were on the way. She is whisked to a room as soon as we walked through the door, wasting no time checking her to see how our son was doing. It's mid-morning now. They said it could be hours before we meet our son.

I'm at Amy's side for each contraction, holding her hand and encouraging her to breathe. Noticing her hair falling in her face as she drops back onto the pillow, I step away. I dig through the suitcase, finding what I'm looking for, I pull her toiletry bag out. "What are you doing, Sheldon?" She asks from across the room.

"You need a hair tie and I'm sure you brought one. If not, I can probably ask the nurse for one." Finding what I'm looking for, I approach the side of the bed. "Can you sit up and turn so your back is facing me?" Amy does as I ask, not questioning me as I take her hair between my fingers, starting a French braid at the crown of her head, and securing the rubber band at the base of her neck. "It's not the greatest, but your hair won't be in your face anymore."

"How did you think to do that? When did you learn to French braid?"

She leans her back against me as another contraction takes over her body. "You're doing amazing, Amy." It feels like the contractions are coming faster and stronger since we've been here. I feel her body relax and I answer her question. "My mother helped Missy pull her hair back when she was in labor and she seemed to appreciate it. I thought you might as well. I've watched a few YouTube tutorials on French braiding in case you needed me to do it while you're in labor."

"Thank you."

By early afternoon, Amy's contractions are within a minute of each other and there is quite a bit of activity taking place in her room, with nurses and the midwife repeatedly entering the room, checking her, and leaving again. "Okay, Amy. It looks like you're ready," her midwife states after examining her for the third time in an hour. "I'll be back in a few minutes and we can get this started. How are you feeling?" She glances at both of us.

"Excited, but also a little scared." Amy's feeling the exact same things I am.

She pats Amy's leg, reassuring her, "That's perfectly normal. Just breathe through your next few contractions. Your baby will be here before you know it."

Amy and I watch her leave while the nurse prepares things on the other side of the room in the bassinet that was recently wheeled in. Suddenly, Amy is gripping my hand tighter than ever before. "I don't think I can wait," she huffs.

I find myself leaning over the side of the bed to whisper into her ear, "You know what your body is telling you. Listen to it." I don't know where that came from, encouraging her to not wait for the midwife to return. Her grasp on my right hand tightens. Never in my wildest dreams did I ever imagine it being like this. My forehead pressed against the side of Amy's head, whispering words of encouragement without a doctor or midwife at the foot of the bed, while also hoping she's able to wait for the midwife to return.

The door opens and the curtain separating us from it is flung back by the midwife. She takes one look at us and calls the nurse over, "It looks like it's showtime. How are you doing?" She asks before hurriedly putting on gloves as Amy groans, then relaxes against the pillow again. "And he's here." Before I can process what is happening, an infant is being lifted onto Amy's chest.

"He's here," I repeat, pressing my lips to the side of Amy's head as she wraps her arms around our son, crying. "I love you so much."

I watch Amy stare at our son, gently resting my hand against his back to touch him for the first time. He's here. My son is here. I'm a father. We're interrupted by the nurse after what feels like an eternity, "Do you want to cut the cord?" I shakily reach for the scissors in her hand. She directs me where to cut and I sever the link between Amy and our son. "Can we take him for a quick exam? Just over there, you can watch the whole time, Dad." Amy nods, allowing the nurse to lift our son from her chest. I smile and kiss Amy one more time before following the nurse to the bassinet across the room.

I stare at my son, resting in my arms, then at my wife, lying next to me with her eyes closed. "Amy," I whisper. She stirs slightly, twisting her neck to look at me. "It's been three hours. Should we tell our parents that he's here?"

"You're sure about his name? We haven't told anyone yet, we can change it if you want," Amy asks for what feels like the thousandth time since we decided on his name.

I shake my head, "I think it's perfect. Are you having second thoughts?" I don't want Amy to feel like I forced her to name our son something she doesn't like.

"No. I just wanted to make sure you weren't having second thoughts about it. Call your mom first, then we'll call my parents."

Reaching for my phone from the table next to the bed, I maneuver my son from my left arm to my right before scrolling to my mother's number in my phone. It rings for a moment before she answers, "Shelly!" She exclaims, "This is unexpected. I don't usually hear from you on Saturdays."

"Amy and I want you to be the first to know that Leonard Nimoy Cooper is here."

A groan springs from my wife, "Sheldon! That's not his name."

She can't blame me for trying. "Okay, Leonard Cooper was born at two-seventeen this afternoon. He's six pounds, three ounces, and absolutely perfect." My mother can't see me, but I'm sure she can hear me beaming through the phone.

"Oh, Sheldon! Leonard Cooper. I can't wait to meet him in a few weeks."

I thought for sure my mother would be on the next flight upon hearing her newest grandchild was born. "You're not coming right away?"

"I'd love to be there to meet him tonight, but you need some time together, just the three of you. Have you told your friends yet? What do they think of his name?"

Having clicked over to speaker phone for Amy to hear my mother's reaction, she chimes in with, "We haven't told them yet. They didn't even know I was in labor. I wanted this to be just us until after he was born. Like you said, we need time, just the three of us; it's been nice not having our phones blow up with them asking if he's been born yet. We can't keep this from them forever, but we're enjoying time with Leonard without a constant flow of people in and out of the room."

"Okay. I won't keep you on the phone all evening. Send me pictures so I can show Meemaw. You're calling her next, right?"

I can tell she's busting at not being able to tell Meemaw right away, "Amy's parents are the next to know, then we'll call Meemaw, Missy, and Georgie." The call ends and I send my mother the promised pictures of Leonard.

We call Amy's parents and the rest of my family before settling in for the evening. Our first night as a family of three.

He's here! Sheldon and Amy are finally parents. I've only got one chapter left to post, most likely on Thursday morning.

I finished the first chapter of a new story, with almost twenty outlined. I probably won't start posting that one until I have at least a few chapters completed, most likely not until closer to Christmas.

Emails seem to be working on a more consistent basis.