Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 77717 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77717 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
“Go rest,” he orders again. “Your parents will be over in three hours with dinner. Sleep until then.”
I blink, and some sense comes to me. “Okay. Thanks, Noah.”
“No need to thank me. I want some daddy-daughter time.” He flicks his eyes to me, still smiling. “She’ll be okay, I promise.”
I nod again, and slowly turn and go into my bedroom. The dogs follow me, and I close them in with me. Just one less thing to worry about. Though they’ve been fine. Vader got a little pushy wanting to sniff everything, but after both him and Sasha did their initial investigating, they lost interest in the little crying thing in Mommy’s arms.
Noah has been surprisingly calm. Well, maybe it’s only a surprise compared to me freaking out. I assumed I’d be nervous, but I didn’t expect to feel so much panic and have every possible bad situation run through my head at a million miles per hour.
I tuck myself in bed, irrationally thinking of ways Ella could drown and worrying about it. Vader jumps up next to me, and I carefully snuggle up next to him. It still hurts to move and I’m terrified of ripping out my stitches. I worry away an hour of sleep, then finally pass out from sheer exhaustion.
When I wake, it’s dark outside. I sit up in a panic, listening for signs of life. I hear nothing, then realize the dogs aren’t with me anymore yet the bedroom door is shut. I check my phone; I’ve been asleep for about three-and-a-half hours. I feel a world better, but panic rises in my chest and I get out of bed quickly.
Too quickly and I feel a painful pull in my vag. Wincing, I limp my way into the living room. Noah is sitting in the recliner holding Ella. Both dogs are at his feet, chewing on bones, and my parents are sitting on the couch. The TV is on, and my dad and Noah are discussing football in low voices. My heart settles back into my chest.
“Hey,” Noah says, looking up at me. His eyes sparkle and something passes through me, something that tells me things will be okay. For real. “I was just about to get you.”
“How’s Ella?” I cross the room and Noah stands.
“She’s been a sound sleeper this whole time. She woke up when I changed her diaper about an hour ago then she fell back asleep.” He carefully hands me our little girl. I try to keep her awake to nurse while my mom heats up dinner.
After we eat, my parents order Noah and me to shower and nap. Noah falls asleep right away and I get another hour and a half of shut-eye in before my parents leave, and then it’s just us.
We sit up in bed until we’re both too tired to stay awake any longer. Then comes the moment of truth: trying to sleep while Ella sleeps. I lay her in the bassinet next to the bed, checking to make sure her swaddler is tight enough three times before putting my head on the pillow. We get four hours before Ella wakes up fussing. Not too bad for our first night home.
“We kept her alive for a week,” Noah says, sitting down at the table. “I say we’re doing this parenting thing right.”
“I think so.” I brush my hair back and fix my dress after nursing Ella. I’ve worn nothing but pajamas up until tonight. My stitches aren’t healed yet, and I’m still sore when I walk, move, think about it … pretty much all the time. But after being cooped up for days, Noah suggested we go out, and I have to admit it feels good to put makeup and join the real world.
“I’m still trying to figure out how to do anything productive though.” I smile down at our one-week-old. “It’s hard to put her down. She’s growing too fast.”
“Fast enough to make you want to have another,” Noah jokes. Or maybe he’s not joking.
“Oh, I’ll definitely be wanting another.”
“With me?”
I look up, expecting to see a smile on his face. His genuine concern makes me laugh. “Of course, dummy. Well, unless I decide to get drunk and have a one-night stand again.”
“Just checking. Sometimes none of this seems real. Me and you, together.” He looks down and shakes his head. Emotional Noah doesn’t come around too often, but I like it when he does. “And now add the perfect baby. Almost seems too good to be true.”
I’m smiling as big as I can, looking from our daughter to Noah and back again.
“It does. But it’s not.” I cradle Ella against me, kissing the top of her head. The story of my life had some major plot twists thrown in, some so big and gnarly I didn’t think they’d ever straighten out. And though this story is far from over, I know it will end with a happily ever after.