Twenty-five

TWENTY-FIVE

Mia

"I'll be back shortly with your meals."

"Thank you."

As our waiter walked off, I returned my attention to the man sitting across the table from me and smiled. "These last couple of days have been so much fun."

Brock returned the smile and reached his hand out to mine. After he gave me a squeeze, stroking his thumb along my knuckles, he said, "I'm glad you enjoyed yourself. I've had a blast with you, too."

Sending a dubious look his way, I noted, "Well, maybe by this time next year, I'll be capable of doing more than I did this year."

"I'm not the least bit disappointed by what we did these past few days," he assured me. "I don't feel like I missed out on anything at all."

That was a relief.

It was now Sunday afternoon, the start of the first full week in August, and the two of us had taken a vacation together. We hadn't done anything extravagant, though. Both of us had taken a few days off from work and brought ourselves back to the beach for a short, romantic getaway. Brock had insisted he wanted us to be able to do these last few things together before the baby arrived, and I just couldn't say no.

We'd had a blast, too.

It wasn't that we'd spent our time riding on jet skis or going paddle boarding—God, I could just imagine how much of a disaster that would have been for me. Instead, we'd merely enjoyed a few days of lazing on the beach, listening to the waves crashing along the shore, visiting the local shops and restaurants, and even checking out some waterfalls when we wanted a break from the beach.

I hadn't originally intended to go on any trips before the baby's arrival, but when Brock presented the idea to me and shared just how much he wanted this time alone together, declining his request just wasn't an option.

Now, we were here.

We'd reached the end of our trip, and after spending the morning going for a long walk along the beach and making one final stop at a shop in town, Brock decided to take us out for lunch before we started making our way home.

"I'm relieved to know you don't feel as though I've hindered any of the enjoyment. I hadn't planned on taking a trip like this, even for a few days, but I'm so glad that you came up with the idea. It's really been the break I didn't know I needed."

A look of pride washed over him. "That's what I was hoping for. You're in the homestretch, and I know this baby can come any day now. I wanted you to have this opportunity to kick back and relax for a few days."

My fingers tightened around his, my heart melting. Brock had been the best thing to ever happen to me.

We'd been together just over a month now, and it was easily the best month of my life, even as it had been the most physically challenging in the pregnancy. There was no question Brock was the reason for that.

I couldn't pinpoint one specific thing he'd done for me or that we'd done together that led to me making such a declaration, though. If I was honest, it was all the little things—many of the things we'd already been experiencing before we'd made it official between us. Brock helped with building or moving baby furniture. We continued to go on walks regularly throughout the week. We'd have dinner together nearly every night, sometimes eating outside on my deck for a change of scenery. We watched movies. We cuddled. We spent most nights together at one of our homes.

Brock continued to go out of his way to handle things that weren't his responsibility, too. He mowed my grass and would drive me to the grocery store, after which he'd carry all the bags into the house. He'd take out the trash for me, and he'd pull weeds around my property whenever they popped up.

I never expected him to handle any of those tasks, but he happily did them, often demanding I not even think about tackling them on my own. And on the days when I was feeling particularly tired, he'd come up behind me and offer a relaxing massage.

Brock had been the biggest blessing in my life over the last month, and so I tried to find other ways to thank him for all the ways in which he loved me well.

I'd bake desserts and cook dinners. I loved on him often—with kisses, hugs, and frequent sex. In many ways, loving him back benefited me, too.

And this trip was just one more of those ways Brock proved how much he loved and cared for me. He wanted me to have the chance to rest before the baby arrived.

"There're still roughly three weeks left until my due date, and I'll admit I'm torn," I replied.

"What do you mean?"

I didn't hesitate to share my dilemma. "There's this part of me that just can't wait to meet this baby and would be ready to have him or her today. That part of me finally feels ready to step fully into this new chapter of my life—motherhood. But there's this other part of me, the one I've spoken to you about before, that realizes just how much my life is going to change. Even if I know it's ultimately going to be for the better in the long run and I'll wonder how I ever lived without him or her, I guess I'm still hoping to get these last few weeks to appreciate and honor this part of my life coming to an end."

Brock's thumb continued to stroke reassuringly across my knuckles. "You'll still be able to do all or most of the things you've always enjoyed."

Nodding my agreement, I said, "I know. But even if I'm doing something like we just did by going to the beach, it's going to look different. I'll be doing that with a baby in tow, and it'll be about how he or she is living that experience. It'll be about seeing the world through my baby's eyes."

"If it's anything like I feel with my niece, I think I can safely say you're going to find it to be the most incredible experience of your life."

I didn't doubt that for one second.

Without a doubt, I was eager for what was ahead. But that didn't mean I wanted to rush myself getting there. My baby would arrive whenever he or she was ready, and until that time came, I'd be grateful for whatever the last few weeks of pregnancy held for me.

"I still can't believe I'm this close to the end."

"I'm excited. I can't wait for this little one to get here," Brock shared, an undeniable light in his eyes.

My heart beat a little faster whenever he talked about my baby like that. To find a man like Brock who wanted to be part of my life had been enough of a shock, but that he was looking forward to meeting this baby almost as much as I was often left me pinching myself. How had I gotten so lucky?

"Do you know how much I love you?" I asked, smiling brightly at him.

Brock chuckled and gave my hand another squeeze. "You might have mentioned it once or twice."

Our waiter returned at that moment, forcing our hands apart. She stayed around long enough to deliver our food, drinks, and extra napkins. And the next thing I knew, the conversation Brock and I had been having took a back seat while we both got a few bites in.

"Have you thought any more about names for the baby?" Brock asked.

"I have, but?—"

"But what?"

This was something I'd been struggling with, something I hadn't brought up and discussed with Brock yet. He always offered such sound advice, so I didn't know why I hadn't considered bringing it up to him before now.

Shrugging, I explained, "I don't know. I've got a list of names I like, but am I supposed to name this baby without his or her father's input?"

Understanding dawned on Brock's features. Even if he had his own thoughts about Todd, Brock never made me feel bad on the rare occasion I brought him up. He sent a look of sympathy my way and asked, "Do you think he's going to be there?"

I shook my head. "I honestly don't know. Months ago, I told him I wouldn't be reaching out to him at all regarding the baby, that it was on him to prove he wanted to be involved. Obviously, he showed up in a big way roughly a month ago, but I haven't heard a thing from him since. He could still be bitter about the situation, or he might not be interested in being involved at all. I figure that when the day comes that I go into labor, I'll call Susie. She can relay the information for me. What Todd will do from that point forward is a mystery to me."

Brock reached for my hand again. "I think you're doing the best you can with the situation. And if I'm honest, you've given the guy a lot of grace. It's admirable you want to give him the opportunity to be involved in naming the baby, but I also don't think you need to feel bad about giving him or her a name without his input if he chooses not to show up."

I smiled at him. "Thank you for always making me feel better about things that I'm struggling with, especially when it comes to making decisions about the baby. I don't think you understand how much of the heaviness I used to feel at the beginning of this year has been lifted from my shoulders because of you."

His thumb stroked over my knuckles. "I'm always going to do what I can to help you, Mia. I love the way I feel when I'm around you, especially when you're happy. So, whatever it takes to keep you that way, I'm going to do it."

He really was the best guy in the world. I still hadn't quite wrapped my head around the fact that I was so lucky to have not only met him, but also to have him want me the way that he did.

We returned our attention to our food, sharing bites with one another and enjoying the last few hours of our mini vacation together. When I could no longer fit another bite inside and Brock had finished what I couldn't, he asked, "How do you want to spend the rest of the night once we get home?"

"I'm utterly wiped out, so all I want to do is go home, shower, and curl up on the couch with you. Movies, dinner, and cuddling would be the perfect end to our trip."

Brock grinned at me. "I can absolutely give you that."

I hadn't expected anything less from him.

And with the rest of our day planned out, Brock paid the bill, so we could get back on the road, head home, and enjoy a relaxing evening in before we both had to go back to work tomorrow morning.

It was Saturday, three weeks after my impromptu beach trip with Brock, and subsequently four days past my due date when it happened.

I'd grown incredibly antsy over the last week or so, wondering and waiting for it to happen. Between the Braxton-Hicks contractions, the nesting urge, and the lack of comfort at night when attempting to sleep, it was safe to say I was no longer interested in waiting to meet my baby.

I was willing to do anything to get this baby here, and Brock was happy to oblige, especially when I told him about sex being one of the things that could help bring on labor. When I woke up this morning, though, and it still hadn't happened, I begged Brock to go on a walk with me after breakfast.

Always wanting to please me, Brock made breakfast for us and happily shuffled out the door with me.

We'd walked quite a distance from the house and had just turned around to make our way back when I felt the trickle. It was slow at first, and initially, I thought I was dealing with a full bladder that had a baby pressing down on it. But that slow trickle turned into a gush. The sight and sound of it were unmistakable. Even Brock knew what was happening.

"It's time, isn't it? The baby's coming?" he asked, his hand still holding mine.

Nodding, I said, "I think so."

"Are you okay to walk? Do you want me to carry you back? If you want to wait here, I'll run back and get the truck," he offered.

I shook my head. "No. No, I'm okay to walk for now. I guess those contractions I've been feeling all day today were the real deal."

"We're supposed to time them now, aren't we?"

"It probably wouldn't be a bad idea."

Brock and I walked for a few minutes back toward our homes, and two contractions later, I needed to stop.

"Oh, wow. This is getting more intense," I said, holding tighter to his hand. When the contraction passed, I stood up straight again. "Okay, we can keep going."

"Are you sure? I really don't mind carrying you."

It meant the world to me that Brock was so accommodating and willing to do whatever he could to help me. "I'm positive. I think the more I move, the more it'll help things progress anyway."

"Well, at least your bag is packed, and we're ready to go," he reasoned.

I needed to stop two more times to breathe through my contractions before we made it back to the houses. Brock was focused, slightly nervous, but overwhelmingly determined. While he grabbed the bags we'd packed for the hospital, I snatched up my purse and my phone. We didn't need to worry about the car seat, because Brock had already installed it into my car for me.

When I met him at the door, Brock asked, "Are you ready?"

"All set."

On the way to the hospital, I made two phone calls. My parents had been on standby—I'd called and talked to them every day since my due date arrived. Everyone was eager to meet the baby.

After letting my parents know that my water broke and Brock was taking me to the hospital, they promised they would be on the road in less than five minutes.

My next call was to Susie. She knew as soon as she saw my name on her display what the call was about. "Is the baby coming?"

"The baby is coming," I confirmed. "I'll be at the hospital in ten minutes."

"I'll let everyone here know what's going on, and I'll meet you there shortly," she informed me.

"Sounds great, Susie. See you soon."

Before I knew it, I was at the hospital, on the labor and delivery floor, and hooked up to a monitor in my very own room. The contractions had become increasingly more painful, but I was doing my best to look on the bright side. As it turned out, by the time Brock and I had arrived, I was already nearly six centimeters dilated. Apparently, my labor was progressing fast for a first-time mom.

The discomfort I felt increased as time went on, but I'd planned to have an all-natural labor. Fortunately, I had Brock with me, and he didn't hesitate to step up to help me through. He rubbed my back, fed me ice chips, and allowed me to drape my arms over him to hang on whenever another contraction hit.

He was the only reason I remained as calm as I did throughout. Because where my energy was focused on the baby, Brock was focused solely on me.

I had no concept of time. All I knew was that I had to have been in the hospital for roughly two hours at one point, because my mom came waltzing into the room. "Oh, Mia, I thought I was going to miss it."

"I'm so glad you're here, Mom." My voice was strained, tears filling my eyes.

Susie had arrived before my mom did, but she didn't stay in the room with me. She came in, stayed for a bit, and wished me luck, promising she wouldn't be leaving until she got word that the baby had arrived and whether she was an aunt to a niece or nephew.

It was quite some time after my mom arrived when things changed again for me. I knew I had to be in the homestretch, because the contractions felt as though they were coming one right after the other. I couldn't catch a break between them.

And the pressure.

The pressure had gotten so bad, the urge to push undeniable. "I think I need to push," I announced to anyone who was willing to listen.

My mom was on one side of the bed, Brock on the other. If there was one thing I was glad I'd done, it was sharing the truth about my relationship with Brock with them roughly two weeks after things became official between us. It was safe to say my family already adored him, and in one brief moment of clarity I'd had in the midst of laboring, I saw the way my mom looked at Brock. She wore such an appreciative and proud smile as she took him in while he took care of me.

The next thing I knew, I was being instructed to push. Brock held one leg in his hands as my mom held the other. A nurse counted, and the doctor offered encouragement and instructions. Everyone in the room just seemed to know what to do, and there was something about that which brought me such a sense of peace.

My baby was going to be okay.

I was going to be okay.

In what the doctor and nurses insisted was a rare feat, twenty minutes after I'd started pushing, I delivered my son. He was the most beautiful thing I'd ever laid my eyes on.

From the moment he was placed squarely on my chest after his delivery, all the worries I'd had about the day-to-day things in my life had vanished. The only thing that mattered to me now was this little boy.

He was mere minutes old, and he'd already changed my whole life.