Doctor's Orders

Three Years Later

I woke up from a very deep sleep to the sound of crying through the monitor. "Harry," I said, nudging my sleeping husband. "Can you get the baby for me?" He grumbled a little but then he got up and went to the baby's room. I could hear the cries subsiding while Harry spoke lovingly to our little bundle. 

He came back, settling the baby between us while I freed my breast to feed the starving little creature. "Hey, buddy," I cooed as he latched right on. "Happy to see Daddy, were you?" 

"Happy to see Mommy more, I think," Harry laughed as our baby boy suckled noisily at my breast. 

"You're a noisy eater, Ethan," I giggled. 

Ethan Thomas - his middle name was significant for obvious reasons. I had wanted to name the baby after Harry, but he vehemently objected, saying it was an old man's name. We did some searching and found that Ethan meant strong, so we chose it, wanting our son to have a strong name.

As delightful as it had been to have a life growing inside of me, moving, kicking, and tumbling, pregnancy had been a challenge for me. No sooner had we discovered I was pregnant than the morning sickness kicked in, except that it didn't only come in the morning. I was throwing up around the clock for most of the first trimester. The vomiting ceased after that, for the most part, but the nausea persisted throughout the pregnancy. After the exhausting first trimester, when I was trying to work while making frequent dashes for the bathroom, or at least a nearby trash can, Harry practically forced me to stop working. He did it out of love and concern, obviously, and I was grateful once I was able to sleep in as much as I wanted, in addition to taking three-hour naps almost every day. I had no idea that making a baby would take so much out of me. 

And I wouldn't trade a single minute of it for anything. 

Ethan started to calm down and eventually fell back to sleep. I moved him gently to his bassinet next to our bed. We would put him to bed in his own room at the beginning of the night, but I knew a tiny baby needed to be close to me, so he usually spent the rest of the night near us after he woke up for his first feeding. I was tired, yes, but I was still able to get naps when he slept during the day. 

After Ethan was settled, Harry slipped his hands up under my pajama top and kissed me deeply. "What do you think you're doing?" I asked, knowing very well that my husband had waited patiently for me to recover after having a baby. We had only attempted sex once since Ethan was born, and it was still rather uncomfortable for me, but I wanted Harry now, and he knew by the way I'd been throwing myself at him for the past few days. 

"I'm thinking I've been patient long enough and you're too fucking adorable for me to keep my hands off of you any longer." 

"Well, why didn't you say so?" I giggled, shoving my hand abruptly into his shorts, making him jump with excitement. 

It didn't take long for us to rid each other of our bed clothing and reunite our bodies. Lovemaking was truly something different than the idea of sex just for fun. Don't get me wrong, it was definitely still quite enjoyable, but after all that Harry and I had been through, it was so much more than physical pleasure. There was a spiritual element that was too profound to describe, something of a tangible union between the two of us that could never be broken. Now, after having created a baby together, the act was even more meaningful. Panting and moaning, renewing our commitment to each other, we finished and fell deeply into a restful sleep in each other's arms.