Chapter 196 One Hundred & Ninety six

Chapter 196 One Hundred & Ninety six
EMMA POV

My dad came around noon.

He looked nervous, like he wasn't sure if he was allowed to be there.

"Come here," I said. "Meet your granddaughter."

He came over and just stared at Grace for a long time.

"She's got your eyes," he said to me.

"She's got Ryan's hair," I said.

"She's perfect," he said. And then he cried. My dad actually cried.

I'd never seen my dad cry before.

"She is," I agreed. "She's really perfect."

The doctor came in around 1 PM to check me.

She said everything looked good. The stitches were healing. The bleeding was normal. I could go home tomorrow if I wanted.

I was going home with a baby tomorrow.

That seemed impossible.

"You sure I know how to do this?" I asked the doctor.

"You'll figure it out," she said. "And if you don't, you call us. But you will figure it out."

After everyone left, it was just me, Ryan, and Grace again.

Grace was sleeping. Ryan was on his phone scrolling through photos of Grace that he'd taken.

"She's so perfect," he kept saying. "Look at her. She's so perfect."

"You've said that about five hundred times," I said.

"I'll say it five hundred more," he said. "Look at her tiny fingernails. Look at her little nose."

"I'm aware of her tiny features, Ryan. I made them."

He came over and kissed my forehead.

"You did," he said. "You grew her and pushed her out and now you're feeding her. You're amazing."

"I'm exhausted," I said. "I think I'm hallucinating. I think that's what's happening. Nothing feels real."

"It's real," he said. "She's real. Our daughter is real."

Grace woke up around 3 PM hungry again.

The breastfeeding was starting to hurt less. My nipples were getting used to being gnawed on by a tiny human.

Ryan watched while she fed.

"How does that work?" he asked. "Like, how does she know to do that?"

"Instinct," I said. "Babies just know. It's one of the few things they're good at."

Grace finished feeding and I burped her like I'd been taught. She spit up again.

"She's going to spit up forever," I said.

"Probably," Ryan agreed.

By 6 PM, I was beyond exhausted.

I'd been awake for over twenty-four hours. I was running on adrenaline and fear and love all mixed together.

"You should sleep," Ryan said.

"I can't sleep," I said. "What if she stops breathing?"

"She won't stop breathing," he said.

"But what if she does?"

"She won't," he said. "I'll watch her. You sleep."

"You can't stay awake all night," I said.

"I'll do shifts," he said. "You sleep for two hours. I'll watch her. Then you take over."

It sounded like a terrible plan. But I was so tired I could barely keep my eyes open.

"You promise you'll wake me if anything seems wrong?" I asked.

"I promise," he said. "I won't take my eyes off her."

I laid down and closed my eyes.

And for the first time in twenty-four hours, I slept.

I woke up two hours later in a panic.

Grace was fine. She was sleeping. Ryan was sitting in the chair watching her like a hawk.

"She's okay," he said immediately. "She's perfect. Everything's fine."

"You should sleep," I said.

"I'm not tired," he lied. I could see it in his eyes. He was exhausted.

"Go sleep," I said. "I got this."

He looked at Grace one more time before handing her off to me mentally.

"If anything happens—" he started.

"I'll wake you," I promised.

He fell asleep in the hospital bed next to mine almost immediately.

I watched my daughter sleep while my husband slept.

And I thought about how crazy this all was. How impossible it seemed that we'd made it here. That we'd survived the darkness and the distance and the pain and come out the other side with this perfect little girl.

Grace stretched in her sleep, her tiny fists unclenching and reclenching.

"Hi, baby girl," I whispered. "Welcome to our family. We're a mess, but we love each other. And now we love you. You're going to be okay. We're all going to be okay."

Grace made a tiny sound and snuggled deeper into her bassinet.

And I sat there, exhausted and bleeding and in pain and happier than I'd ever been.

Because I had my daughter.

And I had Ryan.

And we had somehow made it work.

Against all odds, we'd made it work.

In the morning, we would go home.

We would start our new life as a family of three.

We would figure out how to do this.

We would probably mess up a lot.

But we'd do it together.

And that was enough.

That had always been enough.

Just us. Just this family. Just love.