from the C-section procedure and felt sleep pulling at her. She was dimly aware of Ellington at her side, complete with his white operating room cap and blue gown. He kissed her forehead and was doing nothing to hide the fact that he was openly crying.
“You did amazing,” he said through his tears. “You’re so strong, Mac. I love you.”
She opened her mouth to return the sentiment but wasn’t fully sure she’d said it. She drifted off to the beautiful sounds of her still-crying son.
The next hour or so of her life was a fragmented kind of bliss. She was mostly under and still feeling nothing when the doctors sewed her back up. She was out of it completely when she was moved to a recovery room. She was barely aware of a series of nurses looking over her, checking her vitals.
However, it was when one of the nurses stepped into the room that Mackenzie started to get a better grip on her thoughts. She reached out clumsily, trying to garb the nurse’s hand, but missed.
“How long?” she asked.
The nurse smiled, showing that she had been in this situation many times before. “You’ve been out for about two hours. How are you feeling?”
“Like I need to hold the baby that just came out of me.”
This elicited a chuckle from the nurse. “He’s with your husband. I’ll send them both in.”
The nurse left and while she was gone, Mackenzie’s eyes remained on the doorway. They stayed there until Ellington entered shortly afterward. He was pushing one of the hospital’s little rolling bassinets. The smile on his face was unlike any she had ever seen from him before.
“How you feeling?” he asked as he parked the bassinet by the side of her bed.
“Like my insides have been ripped out.”
“They were,” Ellington said with a playful frown. “When they brought me into the operating room, your guts were in a few different pans. I know you inside and out now, Mac.”
Without having to be asked, Ellington reached into the bassinet and took out their son. Slowly, he handed Kevin to her. She held him to her chest and instantly felt her heart reaching out. A surge of emotion passed through her. She wasn’t sure if she had ever experienced tears of happiness in her entire life, but they came as she kissed the top of her son’s head.
“I think we did good,” Ellington said. “I mean, my part was easy, but you know what I mean.”
“I do,” she said. She looked into her son’s eyes for the first time and felt what she could only describe as an emotional click. It was the feeling of her life being forever changed. “And yes, we did do good.”
Ellington sat down on the edge of the bed. The shifting hurt her abdomen, the surgery now barely more than two hours ago. But she said nothing.
She sat there in the crook of her husband’s arm with their newborn son in her arms, and could not remember a single moment in her life when she had felt such absolute happiness.
CHAPTER TWO
Mackenzie had spent the last three months of her pregnancy reading just about every book on babies she could find. There seemed to be no unequivocal answer as to what to expect the first few weeks back home with a newborn. Some said that as long as you slept when the baby slept, you should be okay. Others had said to sleep when you could with the help of a spouse or other family members who were willing to help. All of it had made Mackenzie sure that sleep would only be a precious memory of the past once they got Kevin home.
This proved correct for the first two weeks or so. After Kevin’s first checkup, it was discovered that he had severe acid reflux. This meant that anytime he ate, he had to be held upright for fifteen to thirty minutes at a time. This was easy enough, but became grinding during the later night hours.
It was during this stretch of time that Mackenzie started to think about her mother. On the second night after being instructed to hold Kevin upright after feeding, Mackenzie wondered if her own mother had dealt with anything like this. Mackenzie wondered what sort of baby she had been.
She’d probably like to see her granddaughter, Mackenzie thought.
But that was a terrifying concept. The idea of calling her mother just to say hello was bad enough. But then throw in a surprise granddaughter, and that would be chaotic.
She felt Kevin squirming against her, trying to get comfortable. Mackenzie checked the bedside clock and saw that she’d had him upright for a little over twenty minutes. He seemed to have dozed off on her shoulder, so she crept over to the bassinet and placed him inside of it. He was swaddled and looked quite comfortable and she took a final look at him before returning to bed.
“Thanks,” Ellington said from beside her, half asleep. “You’re awesome.”
“I don’t feel like it. But thanks.”
She settled down, getting her head comfortable on the pillow. She had her eyes closed for about five seconds before Kevin started wailing again. She shot up in bed and let out a little moan. She bit it back, though, worried that it might turn into a bout of weeping. She was tired and, worst of all, she was experiencing her first toxic thoughts about her child.
“Again?” Ellington said, snapping the word out like a curse. He got to his feet, nearly stumbling out of the bed, and marched to the bassinet.
“I’ll get him,” Mackenzie said.
“No…you’ve been up with him four times already. And I know…I woke up for each and every one of those times.”
She did not know why (probably the lack of sleep, she thought idly), but this comment pissed her off. She practically lunged out of bed to beat him to the wailing baby. She rammed her shoulder into him a little harder than necessary to be considered playful. As she picked Kevin up, she said: “Oh, I’m sorry. Did he wake you?”
“Mac, you know what I mean.”
“I do. But Jesus, you could be helping more.”
“I have to get up early tomorrow,” he said. “I can’t just sit…”
“Oh God, please finish that sentence.”
“No. I’m sorry. I just…”
“Get back in bed,” Mackenzie snapped. “Kevin and I are fine.”
“Mac…”
“Shut up. Get back in bed and sleep.”
“I can’t.”
“Is the baby too noisy? Go to the couch, then!”
“Mac, you—”
“Go!”
She was crying now, holding Kevin to her as she settled back into bed. He was still wailing, slightly in pain from the reflux. She knew she’d have to hold him upright again and it made her want to cry even harder. But she did her best to hold it back as Ellington stormed out of the room. He was muttering something under his breath and she was glad she couldn’t hear it. She was looking for an excuse to explode on him, to berate him and, honestly, just to get out some of her frustration.
She
