Chapter 8: Arrival

On the day Emily gave birth, I stayed by her side the whole time.

Childbirth is brutal. For thirteen hours, Emily endured pain I could barely imagine. I held her hand, wiped her brow, listened to the monitors beep and the fluorescent lights buzz overhead. The hospital room was freezing. Emily’s grip left crescent moons on my hand.

I swore to myself—I’d treat her right from now on. The pain she suffered giving birth was worse than all the hardships Rachel ever went through for me.

I tried to tell her it would all be worth it, but my words sounded empty against her cries. All I could do was hold her tighter.

In the evening, Emily finally gave birth. It was a boy—perfectly healthy, not even a birthmark.

At ten that night, after settling everything, I snapped a picture and posted it to Facebook before the nurse even left the room. [Seven pounds eight ounces, mom and baby are doing great.]

Likes and comments rolled in, but one comment stopped me cold. It was from Rachel.

[Congrats, Dad. Hope you’re real happy now.]

I stared at her words, the hospital’s white noise machines humming behind me, my hands cold even in the warm room.