The Father

Epilogue

The grip she has on my hand is fierce and tight, almost enough to hurt, and it's without a doubt the hardest she has ever held onto me. My free hand is resting on her knee, holding her leg to the side.

"You are doing so good," I whisper, then kiss her cheek softly. "Just breathe, baby. Breathe."

She looks at me with wide eyes, there's sweat beaded on her forehead, her hair is damp, and her response is a scream. As it fades she's panting loudly, breathing heavily, and I stare in awe at the small baby that's being held up by the doctor. He's not small, really, he's actually quite chunky, fat, and healthy looking. He's wailing, screaming so loud it pierces my eardrums, but I don't mind a single bit.

I've burst into tears, holding tightly to her hand the same way she's been doing to mine for the past hour, and kiss it repeatedly.

"You did it. Oh, you did it. I am so proud of you, sweetheart."

I smother her face in kisses as she cries quietly, tasting the salty sweat that covers her skin, then kiss her as deeply on her lips as I can manage. We're both sobbing. I knew I would, I've been fighting tears since she started getting contractions. Seeing her in pain and not being able to do anything about it turns me inside out.

"Dad, do you want to cut the cord?"

I snap out of it somewhat and nod quickly. He hands me the scissors and I don't take my eyes off of our child as I cut the umbilical cord. I'm mesmerized by his face as they place him directly onto Katherines chest. I'm there in a second, staring into his wide, blue eyes. She requested they put him right on her as soon as he was born without cleaning him, he's still covered in goop, glistening, and there's blood in his dark hair.

God, he's perfect. I just can't take my eyes off of him. Like Atticus, I see so much of myself in him. Even when he's only a couple minutes old. She went on and on about how she hoped this one would resemble her in any way and I joked that he wouldn't.

"He looks just like me," I laugh. "I told you he would. That's two wins for me."

When I glance between her and him, I quickly do a double take. She's as pale as a ghost and looks like she's having trouble keeping her eyes open. I place my hand against the side of her face and stroke her cheek. A small sound comes from her parted lips.

"Katherine? Sweetheart? Hey. Look at me."

The moment I realize she's going in and out of consciousness I inhale sharply, then look to the nurses and the doctor. They're stopped, frozen, staring between her legs. That only lasts for a moment, because they begin to scramble.

"What? What's wrong?"

"She's hemorrhaging. Code blue."

"Oh, god, no," I whisper. "No, no, she can't be. Not again. Please, not again."

This is what she was so terrified of, this happening again. I promised her it wouldn't, reassured her so many times... and now it's happening. She's bleeding out and it's all happening so quickly. I don't even have time to think or react.

Our son is being taken away from her and I begin to follow the nurse who has him, but quickly turn back to Katherine. She's completely knocked out now and I frantically place two of my fingers against her neck. I can feel her pulse, it's faint, and then they're pulling me away from her.