Princess in Lingerie (Lingerie 12)

She was giving birth to my baby, after all.

Covered in sweat and exhausted, Muse struggled the entire time. It was the most gruesome day she’d ever experienced, and the baby hadn’t even started to descend to her opening.

I wished I could do this for her.

I ran my fingers through her hair and kissed her forehead. “They’ll be here any moment, Muse. It’ll be over soon. When we get home, I’ll take care of the baby so you can rest as much as you want. And you can eat whatever you want.”

“Can I get that in writing?”

I chuckled and kissed her again.

When another contraction hit, it was the worst one she’d ever felt. She screamed so loud that the nurse ran into the room to check on her. After lifting the sheet and examining her dilated entrance, the nurse told us it was time to start pushing. “I’ll grab the doctor. That baby is coming now.”

“Thank god,” Muse said. “Finally…”

“You’ve just got to do some pushing and the baby will be here, Muse. Now push hard. It’ll be over sooner.”

“Alright.” She squeezed my hand and got ready.

The doctor came in, pulled on his gloves, and then it began.

I watched Muse do something impossible, push a living person out of her body. She pushed her body to the limit, screaming, crying, and giving all her energy to the effort. Dripping with sweat and exhausted, she had times when she wanted to stop, but she didn’t. She kept going, determined to get our baby out.

“The baby’s crowning,” the doctor said. “Just a few more pushes.”

When Muse knew she was almost done, she pushed even harder. She gave it her all and pushed until our baby was finally out.

When I heard the baby cry, I finally felt relief. High-pitched and loud, the cries echoed off the walls of the hospital room, but it was also the most beautiful noise I’d ever heard in my life. Muse sat up to see the baby for the first time, to see the life she grew with her body.

The doctor held up the baby, using both hands to hold the small person wiggling around in his arms. “Congratulations. You have a son.”

“Oh my god…” Muse covered her cheeks with her palms as the tears emerged. “We have a boy.”

I stared at the little person in the doctor’s arms, the boy who was screaming at the top of his lungs because he’d been ripped from the warmth of his mother into the cold world. All I wanted to do was protect him, to wrap him in my arms and give him the comfort he craved. I was shocked to see my son for the first time, to realize I would be a father to a son. My father raised me to be a man, and now I would do the same for him.

The nurse cleaned off our son and wrapped him in a warm blanket before she approached us. More than anything, I wanted to take that baby from her arms and cradle him against my chest, the same thing I did to Muse when she was scared. But I knew Muse deserved to be the first one to hold our son, after everything she’d just been through to bring him into this world.

The nurse slipped him into her arms, and immediately, he stopped crying.

I couldn’t believe it.

Muse looked into our son’s face, crying even harder as she saw him up close. “He stopped crying…”

“Because he knows who you are.” I placed my hand underneath her arm, helping her support our boy. He hadn’t opened his eyes yet, taking his time as he got used to this new world he’d just been pushed into. With his little fingers and little toes, it was hard to believe he would grow into a man my size someday. I imagined my parents experiencing this same moment with me, holding me in their arms, not knowing I would grow to over six feet tall.

Muse kissed his forehead, her tears leaving her chin and landing on his face.

That’s when he opened his eyes. His green eyes.

He looked right at me, staring at me like he wasn’t sure what he was seeing.

“He has your eyes…” Muse continued to cry, entranced by our son the way I was.

I looked into those eyes, seeing my own genes staring back at me. I inherited my eyes from my father, as did Vanessa. That tradition seemed to keep going with my son. He possessed the Barsetti green eyes.

That was when this all felt real.

This was my son. And I was his father.

Eight

Vanessa

I was sitting in the waiting room with my parents, waiting for the delivery to be over. I was anxious to meet my niece or nephew, the first member of the next generation. My parents would be grandparents, and the entire family was excited for the new addition.