“You could have died. At the very least been horribly disfigured. What if you’d broken your legs on the landing? Leave me to take care of a newborn and your paralyzed ass at the same time? No, absolutely not. You are never going to do anything like that ever again.”
“You don’t have to tell me twice.”
“But all that being said,” she said, taking a deep breath and calming herself, “consider me surprised. In the best way.” She was getting sleepy, settling back into the bed and letting her eyelids fall just a little. It had been a long day for her already, with more to come. She’d need her strength.
“So what now?”
“Now…we wait.”
Arthur dragged a chair over, held Wren’s hand tight.
“I’m not going to leave your side. Never, ever, ever again.”
She patted his hand with hers.
“Good,” she said.
Five seconds later.
“Arthur.”
“Yeah?”
“Before you never leave my side ever again, could you go find me a snack? I think I’m still allowed to eat. Maybe a Jell-O or something.”
There she was.
“Of course. Anything for you.”
25
Their son was born onSeptember 14 at 9:32 a.m.
Hair, none to speak of. Eye color, unknown. They were still shut, his face all red and puffy like he’d been out drinking the night before. He was covered in goo and blood. Honestly, an ugly little thing. Wren stuck by that opinion. Nothing like the freshly manicured grown-ass babies they trotted out as newborns in the movies.
But he was her ugly little thing.
When she first laid eyes on him, well, it was the closest she’d ever come to having a spiritual experience. It was almost like she could feel the cosmic scales tipping just a tad, the universe thrown off-balance for just a moment.
There was a brand-new person in the world.
A person with a name, with a personality yet to be discovered—or determined? A person who would laugh and cry and love and win and lose. A person with a future.
The magnitude of it all overwhelmed Wren for just a couple of seconds. It wasn’t exactly the rush of maternal love she had been expecting—it was grander than even that. Aninfinite appreciation for all life, all of the world and universe, everything.
Yeah, it sounded ridiculous even in her own head. But there it was.
There was no switch-flip moment where she suddenly felt like a mother. But whatever it was that she had felt was pretty cool. And that would do for now.
The nurses took their little boy away quickly and all the woo-woo spiritual stuff passed Wren right by as she succumbed to physical exhaustion and a little blood loss. The medical team cleaned him up and performed their checks and tests. Eventually, one of the nurses came over and told her that he weighed in at six pounds, two ounces.
“Is that good? Did we win?” she asked, a little woozy still.
“It’s great,” the nurse said.
Dr. Abadi even made an appearance to help stitch her up after some minor tearing.
“Eh, what’s up, Doc?” Wren said, barely awake.