Sweet Little Thing(35)

“One more push,” Martha whispered to Mia in the gentlest voice I’ve ever heard.

I think I finally understood why Mia wanted her there so badly. I watched the nurse pull the umbilical cord off our baby’s neck. It was wrapped so tightly that it left a large, red indentation on his new skin. It was one of the saddest moments of my life that I will never forget. I wondered how I would comfort Mia after such a tragedy. She would think it was her fault. Even though I’d watched her battle on, so selfless and determined to do the best by that baby, who would never get to thank her, Mia would blame herself for eternity. It’s in those moments that you realize how brutal life can be. I told myself that I would have to be strong for her. That’s what “through good times and bad” means.

Mia bent forward once more.

“Almost there, baby,” I said to her as tears fell from my eyes and onto her cheeks.

She nodded but didn’t make a sound as she pushed with the last bit of energy she had. Her face was red and covered in sweat. Martha released her leg, so I did the same. The moment our baby boy was out, they swooped him away to a plastic basinet under a bright light and monitor.

Mia crashed back down onto the table. “Go check him,” she cried. That’s all she was concerned about.

I hurried to the bassinet with the two nurses crowding him and now a neonatal doctor was also there.

The doctor was rubbing his body vigorously and saying, “Come on, little guy.” She squeezed one puff of air from a ventilator into his mouth while a nurse was pricking the bottom of his foot, and then I heard his voice for the first time.

My first thought was thank you, Lord, Jesus Christ, Buddha, Mohammed, Infinite Spirit, Holy King, and all the rest, I will never use your name in vain again, thank you! And then, I’m not gonna lie, my next thought was my son can sing; he’s got pipes, yes!

The moment he opened his eyes, he looked right at me and stopped crying on the spot. He cooed and I’m not one of those dads to brag or anything, but I swear to God he smiled—earliest smile on record.

They wrapped him up and handed my perfect child to me and said, “He’s gonna be okay.”

“Bring him over, Will,” Martha said. She pulled Mia’s gown down in front, exposing her breasts, and then she instructed me to unwrap him and put him on Mia’s chest.

“Oh, oh, oh. Hi, baby,” Mia said to the slimy little guy as she began to cry. All the pain and anxiety was gone. There she was, lying naked with her legs up in stirrups with our tiny, crying baby on her chest, and it was the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.

I bent and kissed her forehead. I couldn’t stop the tears spilling from my eyes. “You did it. You were amazing. I love you so much.” I sobbed.

“I love you too!” she said.

That’s when Martha lost it. She hugged both of us over the bed. “Remember what I told you?” she said through tears.

“Yes. We have everything we need right here, between us,” I replied.

Mia looked up at me, her eyes still full of tears. “We’re a family now.”

I kissed her lips softly. “Yes, baby.”



Three years later . . .

We’re getting ready to go on the road. I’m excited to go cross-country with the boys. Oh, we’ve grown, by the way. Now Will and I have two sons, Allen and Dylan. They’re three and two years old and they’re maniacs, literally bouncing off the walls most days. Will says we should get them out to see the world, so we’re going to play a few small venues here and there. We have a couple of band members going on the road with us, but mainly it’s a family trip.

When we play music onstage, we give the boys either tambourines or shakers, and then we put big headphones on them so we don’t damage their hearing. We try to play just loud enough to drown out any sounds they’re making at the front. It’s a lot of fun and they’re learning. Will always says, “The family that plays together, stays together.” I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Will’s neuroses calmed a great deal after the births of our boys. He had a few panicky moments, but once he settled into being a father, I knew he would be the best. He changed diapers and burped the babies for those many months in the early stages, and then when the boys got old enough to start on instruments, I saw Will truly light up. He’ll sit at the piano with Allen or Dylan on his lap and sing along to the funny melodies they invent.

There are hard times, don’t get me wrong, but I haven’t forgotten what I learned so brutally a few years back when Will and I first met. I learned that you can’t predict your future, there’s no crystal ball or formula for happiness. You can’t control the weather just like you can’t control the way others behave, but what you can control is how much love you give. Surrendering to this crazy thing called life is hard, but we don’t have to be the soulless sheets of paper tarrying along in the wind. We can find our people, love, respect them, and then hang on for dear life because it’s not where you go on this journey but who you’re with that matters the most.



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