At exactly 8 a.m., Brett pulled the car into the hospital parking lot and put the car into park. The engine hummed for a moment before he turned it off, the noise cutting out as silence settled between them. Brett took a deep breath, glancing over at Santana, sitting quietly in the passenger seat. There was no mistaking the tension in her eyes.
"We're doing this," Brett said, his voice barely above a whisper as he unbuckled his seatbelt. Santana didn't respond immediately. She stared straight ahead, her hands resting on her swollen belly as if grounding herself for what was to come. Brett opened his door and stepped out, the cool morning air hitting him as he stretched his legs. He moved around to the back of the car, opening the trunk and pulling out their hospital bags. The soft thud of the bags hitting the ground seemed to shake Santana from her trance. She blinked, looking at Brett as he reached for her door handle.
He pulled the door open and gently extended a hand to her. "Are you ready?" he asked gently, his eyes searching hers. Santana hesitated briefly, her eyes flickering down to her belly before she met his gaze again. She didn't say anything, but her small nod was all Brett needed. He helped her out of the car, steadying her as she stood.
Before they could move toward the hospital entrance, Brett pulled her into a tight hug, wrapping his arms around her carefully, mindful of her belly. He pressed a soft kiss to her forehead, and for a moment, the world seemed to slow down around them. "We've got this, babe," he murmured against her hair, his voice filled with a quiet confidence he wasn't entirely sure he felt. "Everything's going to be okay."
Santana leaned into him, closing her eyes as she rested her head against his chest. For a moment, the nervousness that had been gnawing at her faded, replaced by the steady beat of Brett's heart. It was a small comfort in the face of the unknown, but it was enough.
"I know," she whispered, pulling back slightly to look up at him. "I'm just… scared." Brett brushed a strand of hair behind her ear, his hand lingering on her cheek. "I am too," he admitted, his voice soft. "But we're in this together. We'll figure it out." Santana smiled, though it was small and tinged with anxiety. "I know," she repeated, this time with a little more conviction.
They stood there for another moment, just the two of them before Brett took her hand and led her toward the hospital entrance. The automatic doors whooshed open as they approached, and the sterile smell of antiseptic and clean air filled their senses. The hospital was quiet this early in the morning, with only a few nurses milling about at the reception desk. It felt surreal, walking into the building knowing that they were about to become parents.
Brett carried their bags, his hand never leaving Santana's as they made their way to the labor and delivery ward. The signs were clear, pointing them in the right direction, but still, Brett's stomach churned with nervous energy. It wasn't the same anxiety he had felt at doctor's appointments or even during the fertility treatments that had led them here. This was different—bigger. They were about to cross a threshold they couldn't turn back from.
Once they reached the ward, a nurse greeted them with a kind smile, asking for Santana's information before leading them to their room. It was a standard hospital room, with bright lights and medical equipment neatly organized around the space. The bed was already prepared, the monitors waiting to be hooked up to Santana as soon as the induction began.
"This is it," Brett said quietly as they stepped inside, setting their bags down by the small couch in the corner.
Santana looked around, taking it all in. Her hand instinctively went to her belly again, rubbing small circles as she tried to calm the flurry of emotions swirling inside her. She had spent months preparing for this moment, reading every book, attending every class, and mentally preparing herself for labor. But now that it was happening, nothing could have prepared her for the overwhelming combination of fear, excitement, and anticipation that was coursing through her.
A nurse came in shortly after, introducing herself as Laura, and explaining the induction process. She was calm and professional, her demeanor soothing as she walked them through the next steps. Santana was hooked up to the monitors, her belly strapped with sensors that displayed the baby's heartbeat in a rhythmic, steady pulse. Brett watched the screen with wide eyes, mesmerized by the sound of their baby's heartbeat echoing in the room.
After the IV was placed and the Pitocin was started, there wasn't much else to do but wait. Laura assured them it could take hours for labor to begin, especially with it being Santana's first baby. Brett settled into the small chair beside Santana's bed, holding her hand as they both tried to relax. But the room was filled with an underlying tension that neither of them could shake.
"I can't believe we're here," Santana said quietly, breaking the silence. Her eyes were fixed on the ceiling, but her hand was gripping Brett's tightly. "It doesn't feel real."
"I know," Brett replied, rubbing his thumb over her knuckles. "I keep thinking I'm going to wake up and it'll just be another day of waiting." Santana turned her head to look at him, her expression softening. "But it's not. It's happening." Brett nodded, his heart swelling with emotion. "Yeah," he whispered. "It's happening."
Time seemed to stretch as they sat together, waiting for labor to progress. Nurses came in periodically to check on Santana, adjusting the Pitocin drip and making sure everything was moving along as it should. Each time, Brett would glance at the clock, silently counting the hours. The nervous energy that had been buzzing inside him earlier had settled into a quiet, steady anticipation.
The hours passed slowly, the minutes feeling like they were crawling by. Santana tried to rest, though the constant monitoring and occasional tightening of her belly made it difficult to relax. Brett stayed by her side, his presence a comforting anchor as they navigated the long wait together.
As the day stretched on, the weight of what was happening began to sink in even more deeply. By the time the contractions began to intensify, the room had taken on a different energy. Santana's focus shifted entirely inward as she worked through the pain, her hand gripping Brett's with every wave of discomfort. Brett watched her in awe, his admiration for her growing with every passing moment. She was strong, even when she didn't feel like it.
Another wave of pain washed over Santana, her face tightened, eyes squeezing shut as she gripped the bed's handrails. Brett watched helplessly, his heart pounding as he tried to stay calm for her. She let out a strained breath as the contraction peaked, her hand briefly tightening around Brett's. After what felt like an eternity, the contraction began to ease, and Santana sagged back against the pillows, her chest heaving with exhaustion.
Brett leaned forward, gently brushing a stray lock of hair from her sweaty forehead. Santana blinked up at him, a tired but wry smile creeping across her face. "I can't even blame you for getting me pregnant," she muttered with a bitter laugh, still catching her breath.
Brett couldn't help but chuckle at her words, shaking his head as he held up both hands in mock surrender. "Hey, hey, I'm innocent, remember?" he joked, trying to keep the mood light despite the tension in the room. He reached over to the cup of ice chips on the table and offered her another one. Santana accepted it gratefully, crunching down on the ice, her eyes fluttering shut as she tried to focus on the cold sensation rather than the ache still lingering in her body.
"I love you," Brett said softly, leaning in to kiss her temple. His fingers stroked her hair gently, trying to provide any semblance of comfort. Santana sighed, her breath hitching as another contraction began to build. "Here we go again," she groaned, her free hand gripping the edge of the bed as the pain came crashing back, sharp and unrelenting.
Brett stayed by her side, his heart aching for her as he watched her endure the slow, painful process of labor. Hours had passed, and still, there was no sign of their baby making an appearance. It was now nearing 9 p.m., and what had started as a day filled with nervous anticipation had gradually turned into one of frustration, exhaustion, and impatience.
As the contraction finally began to fade, Santana's eyes fluttered open again, and she turned her head to look at him, her face pale and drawn but still filled with the fire that made her who she was. "This baby must fully be a Lopez," Brett joked, trying to lift her spirits. "Already stubborn and late." Santana let out a weak laugh, shaking her head.
The nurse came in to check on them, offering a reassuring smile as she readjusted the monitors on Santana's belly. "You're doing great," she said, her voice calm and soothing. "These things take time, but you're progressing perfectly. Just hang in there."
Santana managed a weak nod, but Brett could see the frustration in her eyes. She had been hanging in there for hours, and still, it felt like they were no closer to meeting their baby. Brett shared a glance with the nurse, who gave him a sympathetic smile before leaving them alone again.
Once they were alone, Brett turned his attention back to Santana. "You're doing amazing, San," he whispered, his voice filled with admiration. "I don't know how you're doing this, but you're incredible." Santana gave him a tired smile, her eyes shining with gratitude. "I don't feel incredible," she admitted her voice barely above a whisper. "I just feel… done."
Brett's heart squeezed painfully in his chest. He wished there was something he could do to make this easier for her, but all he could do was offer his support and be there for her through every agonizing moment. He reached out and took her hand, bringing it to his lips for a soft kiss.
"You're almost there," he said gently. "We're almost there."
Santana closed her eyes, letting out a shaky breath. "I just want this to be over."Brett nodded, his throat tightening with emotion as well. "Me too," he whispered. "But it's going to be worth it. I know it's hard right now, but we're going to meet our baby soon."
They fell into a quiet rhythm again, the minutes ticking by as Santana endured wave after wave of contractions. Brett stayed by her side, offering ice chips, holding her hand, and doing his best to keep her spirits up, though he could see the exhaustion in her eyes. He felt powerless, knowing that all he could do was watch as she endured the pain.
Another hour passed, and still, the baby stubbornly stayed in place. Santana's frustration was growing, and Brett could feel his anxiety creeping in. They had been here for so long, and despite their best efforts to stay positive, the slow progression of labor was wearing them both down.
The nurse returned for another check, and this time, there was a glimmer of hope. "You're getting closer," she said with a smile. "You're almost fully dilated." Santana let out a breath of relief, her eyes closing as she absorbed the nurse's words. "Thank God," she muttered, her voice laced with exhaustion.
Brett squeezed her hand, feeling a surge of relief as well. They were finally making progress. The end was in sight, and soon, they would meet their baby. As the nurse left the room again, Brett leaned down, pressing another kiss to Santana's forehead. "We're almost there, babe," he whispered. "Just a little longer."
Santana lay back, her body heavy with exhaustion, her breath coming in ragged pants. It had been a grueling day, each contraction more intense than the last, and the hours seemed to stretch endlessly. But finally, after what felt like an eternity, the doctor looked up at her and said the words she had been longing to hear.
"You're fully dilated. It's time."
Santana felt a surge of relief, quickly followed by anxiety. She glanced over at Brett, who was standing beside her, looking just as tired but filled with anticipation. His eyes caught hers, and despite the fatigue etched on his face, he gave her an encouraging smile. "What time is it?" Santana asked, her voice barely above a whisper. "1:30 a.m.," one of the nurses replied.
Santana let out a long, weary sigh. "It's been a long day." She could feel her strength waning, the hours of labor taking their toll. Every muscle in her body ached, and she wasn't sure how much more she had to give. Brett leaned down, pressing a kiss to the side of her head. "We're almost done, babe. You've got this. Let's go." His voice was soft, filled with love and determination, and it was exactly what she needed to hear. He squeezed her hand, his thumb gently rubbing circles on her skin as she braced herself for what was to come.
The doctor positioned herself at the foot of the bed, her gloved hands ready. "Alright, Santana. On the next contraction, I need you to push."
Santana nodded, her breath quickening as another contraction built, the pain sharp and immediate. She gripped Brett's hand tightly, bracing herself. Then, as the contraction hit, she bore down, letting out a guttural scream that filled the room. The intensity of the pain was overwhelming, but she pushed with everything she had, her body trembling from the effort. Brett was right there with her, his hand gripping hers while the other held her leg, steadying her. He leaned in close, his words a steady stream of encouragement. "You're doing amazing, San. Just a little more. You've got this."
She wanted to believe him, but the pain was all-consuming. She pushed again, her body feeling like it was on fire, every muscle straining. For a brief moment, her hand slipped from Brett's, and as he leaned down to look, she grabbed him again, pulling him back up. "Don't look down there," she growled through clenched teeth. Brett laughed softly, despite the tension in the air. "Okay, okay. I'm not going anywhere." But as he held her hand, his curiosity got the better of him, and he glanced down quickly. His eyes widened, and a grin spread across his face. "I can see the head!" he exclaimed, his voice filled with excitement. "It's got brown hair!"
Santana's heart skipped a beat at his words. Their baby was almost here. She had been pushing for what felt like hours, and now it was so close. But the pain was relentless, and her body was screaming for rest. Still, she couldn't give up now. Not when they were so close.
For another thirty minutes, the room was filled with Santana's cries and the steady encouragement of Brett and the medical team. Each push felt like it took everything out of her, but slowly, inch by inch, the baby was making its way into the world.
"Just one more big push, Santana," the doctor said, her voice calm but firm.
Summoning every last ounce of strength she had, Santana pushed one final time. The pressure was immense, but then, all at once, it was gone, replaced by the overwhelming sound of a baby's cry. The room fell into stunned silence for a heartbeat before the doctor announced, "It's a baby girl!"
A tiny, squirming baby was placed on Santana's chest, still slick and crying loudly, her fists clenched. Santana's breath hitched in her throat as she looked down at her daughter for the first time, the world around her fading away. The baby's skin was a soft, flushed pink, her dark hair matted to her head, and her cries were loud and strong, filling the room with life.
Tears welled up in Santana's eyes, and she let out a shaky breath, overwhelmed by the flood of emotions coursing through her. She had done it. They had done it. Their baby girl was here. Brett was beside her, his own eyes brimming with tears as he leaned down, pressing a kiss to Santana's forehead. "She's perfect" he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "She's perfect."
Santana tried to speak, but her throat was tight with tears. All she could do was nod, her hand trembling as she gently stroked the baby's back. She was so small, so fragile, but so full of life. Santana could feel the warmth of her skin, hear the tiny, hiccupping cries, and it was the most beautiful sound she had ever heard.
Brett's hand joined hers on the baby's back, his touch gentle as he stroked their daughter's tiny form. His face was a mixture of awe and pure love as he gazed down at her. "She looks like you, San," he whispered, his voice filled with wonder. He leaned down, giving Santana another soft kiss, his lips lingering "I love you so much."
Santana let out a soft laugh through her tears, shaking her head slightly. "I don't know about that," she whispered, her voice thick with exhaustion. "I think she's got your nose." Brett grinned, brushing a tear from her cheek with his thumb. "Either way, she's beautiful."
The nurses moved around them, cleaning up and preparing to take the baby for a quick check-up, but for that brief moment, it was just the three of them—Santana, Brett, and their baby girl, wrapped in a bubble of love and joy.
Santana's body ached, her muscles sore from the hours of labor, but none of that mattered now. She looked down at her daughter, her heart swelling with a love so powerful it took her breath away. This tiny, perfect little human was theirs. They were parents. As Brett continued to stroke the baby's back, Santana caught his gaze, her eyes filled with emotion. "We did it," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "She's here." Brett nodded, his eyes glistening with tears. "Yeah," he said softly. "We did it."
They both looked down at their daughter, her cries softening as she nestled against Santana's chest. Brett gently stroked her cheek with the back of his finger, his heart full. He had never felt anything like this before—the overwhelming sense of love and protection that swelled within him as he looked at his wife and daughter.
"We're a family now," he whispered, his voice full of wonder. Santana smiled, her tears finally subsiding as she looked up at him. "Yeah," she whispered back. "We are."
Brett slipped quietly out of the room, glancing back one last time to see Santana and their baby girl surrounded by nurses, both being gently cleaned up after the long, exhausting birth. His hands shook slightly as he scrolled to find his mom's contact, pausing for a moment before tapping her name. They had decided to keep the induction quiet, wanting to share a few intimate moments between just the two of them before the flood of family descended. But now, the moment had come.
The phone rang just once before a half-asleep voice answered, "Brett? Is everything okay?" He smiled at the sound of his mom's groggy voice, her usual alertness dimmed by the late hour. "Yes," Brett replied softly, trying to keep his voice down so he wouldn't disturb anyone in the quiet hospital wing. "The baby's here."
There was a beat of silence before his mom's voice exploded through the phone, all traces of sleep gone. "What? Really? Oh my God, Brett?" He couldn't help but chuckle, feeling the joy bubble up inside him all over again. "Yeah," he said, his voice thick with emotion, "a beautiful baby girl."
He heard a sharp intake of breath on the other end of the line, followed by the unmistakable sound of rustling as his mom scrambled to get out of bed. "Oh, Brett. I'm so happy for you both!" Her voice wavered slightly, and Brett could picture her wiping away tears, just like he was. "Is Santana okay? How's the baby?"
"They're both good," Brett reassured her, glancing down the hallway as if to remind himself it was real. "Tired, but good. The baby's perfect, Mom. I can't even describe it."
"Shall we come now?" she asked eagerly. "I'll wake up Maribel and Quinn, and we'll be there within the hour." Brett glanced at his watch. It was just past 3 a.m., and although he knew his mom would probably rush to the hospital without a second thought, he didn't want to overwhelm Santana or the baby. "How about you come for 10?" he suggested gently. "Santana's exhausted, and I've been up with her all night. You guys should get some rest, too. I'll send you a few photos in the meantime."
His mom paused, clearly torn between wanting to be there immediately and understanding Brett's need for a bit of space. "Okay," she finally agreed. "But I'm telling Santana's parents and Quinn as soon as we hang up. They're going to want to know right away."
Brett nodded, even though she couldn't see him. "That's fine. We'll be here, and you'll get to meet your granddaughter soon enough." His mom's voice softened, filled with love and pride. "I'm so proud of you, Brett. And Santana. I can't wait to see you all." Brett swallowed the lump in his throat, emotions swirling. "Thanks, Mom. I'll see you in a few hours."
As he hung up, Brett took a deep breath, letting it all sink in. He scrolled through the few photos he had already taken—one of Santana holding the baby, her face flushed with exhaustion and happiness, and another of their daughter wrapped snugly in a hospital blanket, her tiny features perfect in every way. He selected a few to send to both his and Santana's parents carefully typing out a message: Meet your granddaughter. She's healthy and Santana is doing well. Can't wait for you to meet her.
Hitting send, Brett leaned back against the wall, the cool surface grounding him as the magnitude of the moment weighed on him. They were parents now. He was a father. He stood there for a few minutes, taking in the stillness of the early morning. His world had completely changed in just a matter of hours, and the weight of that hit him all over again. It wasn't just the excitement or the fear, but the realization that his life had just been divided into before and after. Before the baby, and now, after her. He could already feel the shift inside him—the priorities that had changed, the new responsibilities that came with this tiny human now lying in a hospital room.
His phone buzzed in his hand, pulling him out of his thoughts. It was a text from his mom buzzing with excitement. She's beautiful, Brett! Can't wait to hold her. We'll see you in the morning. I'm so proud of you and Santana. Love you.
Brett smiled at the message before heading back toward the room. As he walked through the door, he was greeted by the sight of Santana lying in the hospital bed, their baby now swaddled in her arms, her eyes heavy with exhaustion but her face glowing with happiness.
Brett's heart swelled as he approached the bed. "Hey," he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper as he leaned down to kiss the top of Santana's head. "How are my girls doing?" Santana looked up at him, her eyes glistening with unshed tears, and smiled. "We're good," she whispered back, her voice filled with awe as she gazed down at their daughter. "She's perfect, Brett. I can't believe she's ours." He gently stroked the baby's head, feeling the soft fuzz of her hair beneath his fingers. "I know," he murmured. "I called my mom. They're coming later this morning."
Santana nodded, still staring at the baby in her arms. "Good. I don't think I'm ready for everyone to come just yet." She glanced up at him, her expression softening. Brett smiled, leaning down to kiss her forehead again.
The nurse stepped quietly back into the room, her face a calm, gentle presence amidst the afterglow of childbirth. "Would you like to do some skin-to-skin with the baby?" she asked, her voice soft as if she knew how precious these moments were. Santana, lying in bed with a mixture of exhaustion and joy washing over her, nodded almost immediately. She turned her head towards Brett, a small, tired smile on her lips. "I think Brett should do it first."
Brett looked over at Santana, his expression a mixture of excitement and anxiety. He had been so caught up in everything—helping Santana through labor, witnessing the birth of their daughter, and the overwhelming emotions that came with all of it—that he hadn't even held his daughter yet.
The nurse smiled at him warmly, recognizing his nervousness. "It's okay, Dad. I'll guide you through it. Just take a seat over here" she gestured toward the padded chair next to Santana's bed. Brett swallowed hard but nodded, standing up and moving toward the chair with tentative steps. He had never held a baby before, and now, he was about to hold his baby.
He sat down, feeling the weight of the moment settle over him. The nurse, with practiced ease, helped him take off his shirt, leaving him bare-chested and shivering slightly from nerves rather than cold. She gently began to undress their baby girl, her tiny body so fragile in the nurse's experienced hands, before placing the newborn against his chest.
As soon as his daughter touched his skin, something shifted inside of him. She was so small, her body fitting perfectly against him as if they had been designed for this moment. Brett's hands, large and slightly unsure, came up to cradle her against his chest. The nurse covered them both with a soft blanket, ensuring the baby was warm and snug, her face resting just under Brett's chin.
He could feel her breath, light and warm against his skin, and he leaned down instinctively, pressing a soft kiss to the top of her head. "She's so small," he whispered, his voice cracking with emotion as he looked up at Santana.
Santana smiled at him, her eyes glassy with unshed tears. She reached for his phone on the bedside table and began snapping photos, capturing the moment as Brett sat there, their daughter curled up on his chest. She sent the photos to her mom and Judy, typing out a quick message with a sleepy grin on her face: Daddy holding her for the first time. She's perfect.
As she lowered the phone, Santana's eyes remained fixed on Brett and their daughter. She had never seen him look so full of wonder, so completely in love. The anxiety he had felt just moments before seemed to evaporate as the baby nestled deeper into him, her tiny hands curling and uncurling against his chest. His whole body relaxed, his shoulders sinking as he fell into the moment.
"I can't believe how small she is," Brett murmured again, his voice almost a whisper as if speaking too loudly would break the spell. He gently stroked the back of the baby's head with his fingers, marveling at how soft her dark hair was. "She's perfect, San. Perfect."
Santana watched him, her heart swelling as she saw how quickly he had settled into his role as a father. She hadn't known what to expect, hadn't known if Brett would be nervous or unsure, but watching him now, it was as if he had always been meant for this. He looked so natural, so at peace with their daughter lying against him.
"You're already a natural," Santana said softly, a teasing smile playing at her lips, though her voice was thick with emotion. Brett looked up at her, his eyes filled with a kind of awe she had never seen before. "I don't know what I'm doing," he admitted with a nervous chuckle, "but I love her so much already." Santana reached out and placed her hand on his, squeezing it gently. "You're doing great. And you're not alone in this. We've got each other." She paused, her eyes falling to the baby again, her voice softening as she added, "And now we've got her too."
Brett smiled, his heart full. He leaned down again, pressing another kiss to his daughter's tiny forehead, breathing her in as if he could memorize her scent. Every little movement, every tiny breath she took against his chest felt monumental, like the whole world had shrunk down to just the three of them in that room. It was overwhelming and wonderful all at once.
As the moments passed, Santana leaned back against her pillows, exhaustion finally catching up to her. Her eyelids drooped, and she let out a soft yawn. Brett noticed, glancing over at her with a gentle smile. "Get some sleep, babe," he said softly, his voice calm and soothing. "I've got this one."
Santana hesitated for a moment, not wanting to miss a single second of these first precious hours with their daughter, but she was so tired. After everything her body had been through, she couldn't fight it much longer. She nodded, her eyes fluttering closed as she whispered, "Okay."
The room was quiet, the low hum of the hospital machines the only sound. Brett sat there, barely moving, not wanting to disturb the baby as she slept. Now and then, she would stir, making a soft little noise, and Brett would shush her gently, rubbing her back in small, comforting circles until she settled again.
Time seemed to stand still as Brett sat there with his daughter. He didn't know how long he stayed like that, just watching her, holding her, but it didn't matter. This was what he had been waiting for—the moment that made everything else worth it. Every sleepless night, every moment of fear and doubt, it had all led to this.
As the first rays of morning light began to filter in through the hospital window, casting a soft glow over the room, Brett finally allowed himself to close his eyes, his heart full and his daughter safe in his arms.
As soon as the clock hit 10 am, a knock sounded at the door of the hospital room, followed immediately by a familiar chorus of voices. Brett stood from his chair, the weariness from the night evaporating in an instant, and crossed the room to open the door. He was greeted by the sight of both his and Santana's parents, smiles spread wide across their faces, followed closely by Quinn, who practically bounced into the room with excitement.
"Let me see my niece!" Quinn burst out the moment she stepped inside, her excitement contagious. Her eyes were wide, shining with the kind of joy that made Brett laugh. He stepped aside to let them all in, his heart swelling as the room filled with their loved ones.
"She's sleeping in the crib," Brett said with a smile, gesturing towards the small bassinet where their newborn daughter lay peacefully swaddled, her tiny chest rising and falling with each gentle breath.
Maribel made a beeline for Santana, wrapping her arms around her daughter in a warm embrace. "Oh, mija, I'm so proud of you," she said, her voice thick with emotion as she held Santana tightly. Santana, still exhausted but glowing with that unmistakable post-birth aura, hugged her mom back, feeling a wave of comfort and relief wash over her.
Meanwhile, Antonio and Stephen gathered around the crib, their faces softening with awe as they peered down at their granddaughter. "Look at her," Stephen said, his voice a low murmur, as if he didn't want to wake the baby. His eyes were wide, taking in every tiny detail of the newborn's face. Her dark hair, her delicate features, her peaceful expression—it was almost too much for him to handle.
"She looks just like you, Santana," Antonio added, smiling warmly. His pride was evident as he turned to glance at his daughter, then back to the baby in the crib. His chest puffed slightly as though the continuation of the Lopez family was something that could be touched and held.
Quinn, standing a bit farther back, shifted her weight impatiently. "So, who gets to hold her first?" she asked with a playful grin, her excitement bubbling over. Her eyes darted between their parents and the crib, already itching to scoop up the baby in her arms. Santana, leaning back against the hospital pillows, let out a soft laugh and shrugged. "You guys can fight it out," she said with a smile. She was tired, but seeing her family so eager and happy made everything feel lighter.
Brett, made his way back to the bed, sitting down beside Santana. He wrapped his arm around her, pulling her close and pressing a soft kiss to her temple. "You are amazing" he whispered, his voice full of admiration. He had been with her every step of the way during the birth, but seeing her like this, relaxed and at peace after everything, made him love her even more.
"I couldn't have done it without you," Santana replied quietly, leaning into him. Their connection in that moment was unspoken but profound, a shared understanding of what they had just been through together. Brett smiled softly, brushing his fingers through her hair as they both turned their attention to the crib, where their families were gathered around their daughter, still debating who would hold her first.
"Okay, okay," Quinn finally said, throwing her hands up in a mock surrender. "Maribel, you can go first. But only for five minutes. Then it's my turn." She grinned, her eyes still locked on the baby as if she couldn't get enough of the sight of her. Maribel chuckled, stepping forward to gently lift the baby from the crib. She cradled her granddaughter with the kind of ease that came from years of experience. "Oh, my beautiful niña," she cooed, holding the baby close and swaying slightly as she rocked her in her arms. "She's perfect, mija."
Brett and Santana exchanged a look, their hands still entwined as they watched Maribel hold their daughter. It was surreal, seeing her in the arms of their family, knowing that this tiny person was a piece of both of them. After a few moments, Judy turned to look at Santana and Brett, her expression softening with a question that had been on everyone's mind. "So, have you two thought of a name yet?"
There was a brief pause as all eyes turned to the new parents. Brett gave a slight nod, his heart swelling with the significance of what they were about to share. Santana smiled, reaching for Brett's hand and squeezing it before she spoke.
"Isabella Alma Pierce," Santana said, her voice filled with emotion. The name felt right, perfectly suited for their daughter, a combination of tradition and beauty. The room went silent for a beat, letting the weight of the name sink in. Maribel's eyes welled up with tears, and she pressed her lips together, clearly touched by the choice of Alma. Antonio reached over, giving his daughter's hand a firm squeeze, his expression filled with pride.
"It's a beautiful name" Maribel finally said, her voice thick with emotion as she looked down at little Isabella, now sleeping soundly in her arms.
Quinn, standing off to the side, let out a dramatic sigh. "Okay, now it's my turn," she said, walking over with her hands outstretched as if ready to claim her time with her niece. Maribel laughed, carefully passing Isabella over to her, watching with an amused smile as Quinn took the baby as gently as she could.
Quinn's face lit up the moment Isabella was in her arms. "Oh my God," she whispered, staring down at the tiny baby. "She's even more perfect up close." She bounced her slightly, her eyes filled with wonder and love as she carefully cradled her niece.
Brett watched them all, his heart full as he saw their family fall in love with Isabella. It was overwhelming, in the best way possible, to see how much love surrounded their little girl already. This was everything he had hoped for when he imagined becoming a father—a family filled with love, laughter, and support.
Santana leaned into him a little more, her head resting on his shoulder as she let out a soft sigh. "We did it," she whispered, her voice filled with a mix of relief and joy. Brett smiled, pressing another kiss to her temple. "Yeah, we did," he agreed, his voice soft but steady.