“Thank you, Lissi.” I say, kissing her softly.
“For what?” she asks. Her eyes displaying the confusion she just voiced.
“For loving me. For giving birth to my daughter though we weren't together. For coming back to me and still feeling for me what I thought I had stopped feeling for you. For giving me another child. For giving me reason to exist, Lisette. I didn’t realize how dead I was without you, until I felt myself come alive when I laid eyes on you again. I love you so much baby. You and our children.” I put my hand on her stomach for the last part.
“Troy, there was never a moment, even when we were apart, that you weren’t with me. Kari reminded me every day, that I had love once. That I knew what it felt like. That there was someone out there, who once thought I was his world. When I found out I was finally free, my mind may have balked at seeing you again, but my heart, my heart never wavered. I was worried about you possibly being with someone else, because I might not have survived. But never once did I regret what we had. So no, thank you for still loving ME, even though you thought I had left you. I love you more than you will ever know, Troy. Now make love to me.”
All night, I stayed inside her, showing her over and over, what more my heart couldn't say. It’s too busy beating again.EpilogueLisetteSeven Months Later“Ahhhh,” I scream as another contraction rips through my body. After being in this bed for the better part of two days, I am ready for this baby to be outta me.
“Deep breaths, baby,” Troy says wiping more gross sweat from my brow.
“You are never touching me again,” I scream at him.
“Uh-huh. Sure,” he says rolling his eyes.
This is my punishment. When I was pregnant with Kari, I was so depressed I spent all my time sleeping. It was an easy pregnancy and birth for me. This one has been an easy pregnancy, so I expected more of the same. Boy how wrong I was. I had been dilated three centimeters for a few days prior to coming to the hospital, now I am ready to push.
“Alright Lisette. I see the head. Give me one good push,” Dr. Denise says, her head practically in my cooch. I am doing this without drugs again and I can see that was a mis-fucking-take. I can feel everything, including latex covered fingers on my thighs. So weird.
We decided to wait until the baby is born before we find out the sex, but I cheated, and Denise told me yesterday while Troy was getting me ice chips. I’d feel terrible about it, but I currently trying my hardest to bring a tiny human into the world, I think I should be allowed to do whatever the fuck I want.
“I don’t think I can do this anymore. I am exhausted. I can’t push anymore.”
“Yes, you can baby. Push.” Troy has been amazing, and I am being a bitch.
My legs are shaking in the stirrups as I nod and bear down, pushing like there's tomorrow. A few minutes later, I hear my baby boy crying. Finally. I am sobbing as he is wrapped in a receiving blanket and placed on my chest. Troy kisses him and then me and I melt.
“I thought I couldn’t touch you again,” he says chuckling.
“Don’t push your luck,” I say. It hurts to laugh, so I don’t. Everything hurts to be honest.
Ulf Torsten Jorgensen weighs 9 pounds 8 ounces and is 21 inches long. He is beautiful.
A few hours later, after I am finally clean and I get to eat something, I am in a much better place mentally. My in-laws come in first followed by mom. Then Troy’s brothers come in. I gotta say watching six grown men ooh and ahh, basically fawning over a baby is as adorable as it sounds.
Kari comes in next.
“Where’s my brother?” she demands, hands on her little hips. I am not sure where all the sass is coming from, but I am loving it. She has really flourished here, and I am so glad I am home.
“He’s here baby girl,” Troy says pulling a chair closer to the bed. “Come sit here, and I’ll hand him to you.” She does so and Troy hands him to her. “Watch his head.”
“What’s his name?” she asks, gently holding him.
“Ulf. It means wolf,” I say gently. Tears filling my eyes. I look over at Troy, who’s looking at me.
My whole world is right here is the room, and I will never take it for granted.
Not once. Not ever.
I was fourteen when I met him. How many people are lucky enough to find their forever that young? I am forever grateful that I can say I am one of them. It was a long, miserable road back to him, but it’s our trials that make us who we are, and I love who I am today.