Daniel, I know somehow you’d want to know this. Your son is here. I named him Jacob, after your grandfather—the one you always talked about with such affection. We have a son.
Before long, a nurse brought in a tightly swaddled bundle and placed him in Emily’s arms.
— Here’s your champion, Mama.
Holding that rosy-cheeked baby against her chest, Emily felt a kind of love so fierce it almost frightened her. It was different from every other kind of love—absolute, instinctive, total. She kissed his tiny nose and fingers while tears ran down her face.
Only then did she fully understand how right that older doctor had been. She would never have forgiven herself if she had made a different choice. Leaning close to her son’s ear, she whispered:
— My sweet boy. I’m so thankful you’re here.
Seven days later, Ethan was waiting outside the hospital with flowers and a bunch of bright balloons. He shifted awkwardly from foot to foot like a nervous teenager. A nurse coming out behind Emily grinned and said:
— Well? Don’t just stand there, Dad. Take your son. Look at him—he’s a sturdy one.
And before Emily could correct her, the nurse placed the baby right into Ethan’s arms. Emily opened her mouth to explain.
— Actually, he’s not—
But the words died when she saw the look on Ethan’s face. He held the baby with such awe and tenderness that she couldn’t bring herself to interrupt.
The first month was brutal for both of them. Emily was learning motherhood on the fly, and Ethan had never held a newborn before in his life. Their apartment turned into a blur of bottle sterilizing, laundry, feedings, and no sleep. Jacob developed terrible gas and cried for hours at night.
Emily, exhausted and overwhelmed, moved through the days like a ghost. Nothing seemed to soothe him. The rescue came in the form of Ethan’s mother, who took one look and said:
— Oh, honey, this baby is hungry. He’s a big boy. He needs more than he’s getting.
— Start supplementing with formula, — she said. — You’ll see the difference.
She was right. Once Jacob started getting enough to eat, he settled down and slept better. Ethan gave everything he had. He pushed the stroller for hours so Emily could nap. He ran to the pharmacy, picked up formula, and learned every little routine.
Their first time bathing the baby felt like a military exercise. Both of them were terrified. Emily worried the water was too hot, too cold, too deep. Ethan held the slippery little body with both hands, trying to look calm while his own nerves were shot.
In the middle of all that work, six months flew by. Ethan had become so attached to this little family that he couldn’t imagine life without them. He changed diapers like a pro, made Jacob laugh, and rocked him to sleep with a patience that surprised even him. Emily knew perfectly well that without Ethan, she would have fallen apart.
More than once she thought:
