“Well, let’s see what we have here then.” She gets the warm gel and places it on my stomach and seconds later her wand is gliding over me and we can hear the whoosh-whoosh of our baby’s heartbeat. We’ve heard it multiple times now, but it still brings tears to my eyes.
“Let me just do a few measurements, and then we’ll get to the good stuff.”
I’m nodding enthusiastically and Justin’s eyes never leave the screen as she does her job, his hand in mine.
“Okay, now for the sex of the baby.” She’s pushing down further on my abdomen and then looks up and says, “Congrats, Mom and Dad. You’re having a boy!”
“Oh my God, Justin. We’re having a boy!” I exclaim.
He leans down into my ear and whispers, “Thank God, Gabs. If we have a daughter and she has an ounce of your beauty, I’d need a full fucking arsenal of guns to beat those little dicks away.”
“I love you, Honey.”
“Love you, Gabs.”
Epilogue
Justin
Watching Gabriella have little Mason, well not so little. He came out at nine pounds and three ounces and twenty-two inches long, a bundle of screaming joy, with a tuft of light brown hair. He had my heart the moment he was born and even more so now, three days later. It still hasn’t sunk in that he’s actually here.
We’re home from the hospital and sitting on our balcony. It’s in the middle of the week, and it feels so good to be home. We had to stay in the hospital for three days after Gabriella gave birth. Something about them not giving her antibiotics at the right time before Mason came. It pissed me the fuck off, but I calmed down as soon as I was able to hold my son.
I have Mason in my arms, while I’m carrying a cup of coffee out to our patio deck. We still haven’t moved into a home with a yard, knowing full well in the next year we’ll be needing it. Gabriella has been pinning this and that on some damn online account. That way when we are ready, she’ll know exactly what she wants.
I sit beside Gabs on the lounge chair, moving Mason up towards my chest on my right-hand side, so I can bring her on my other side and have them both as close as possible. Going back to work is going to be damn near impossible. Gabriella has already decided she’ll work from home as much as she can, but she really wants to focus on being a mom to Mason and slowly get back in the game of working.
“Hey, Honey,” she says as she’s looking up at me. She’s wearing a night gown, one that’s easy to slip on and off her shoulder when Mason needs to be nursed and I have to say, I love to watch her nourish him. There’s nothing more amazing than seeing a mother give her child the food that only she can provide for him.
“Hi, Baby. How are you feeling?”
“Much better now that I have you next to me.”
“Yea, did you sleep any?”
“For a little while. Our little rascal loves to nurse every two hours on the dot, no matter if he’s sleeping or lazing around. It’s like clockwork, at the rate he’s going I’ll be drained dry and he’ll be as big as a linebacker. At least we know he gets it honestly.”
“Someone’s feeling a little saucy for claiming she’s waking up every two hours.”
“Well, I do have to keep up with you.”
I lean down and kiss her, wanting to take it further, but knowing I can’t. It’s going to be a long six fucking weeks.
Epilogue
Gabriella
Justin has finally put Mason down in the cradle we keep beside our bed. When he’s home, you can usually find him holding Mason. He can’t help it and I can understand the feeling all too well, it takes me a long time to lay him down after he’s done nursing. I was kidding when I told Justin he’d drain me dry in the breast milk department, my milk supply has been in full swing since we got home and I can relax. When I’m not nursing, I’m pumping so Justin can feed him in the middle of the night or really, whenever he wants to.
When Justin returns, he’s only wearing pajama buttons, they hang low on his hips and I can see every delectable inch of his hard stomach, down to his happy trail knowing it leads to one of my favorite parts of him.
“Gabs, what did I say about you licking your lips like that.”
“That you’d give me something to lick?” I question knowing full well my intentions and how much he hates that he can’t fuck me, but that doesn’t mean I have to leave him without any pleasure.
“Damn right I will. Right fuckin’ now,” he grumbles as he ambles toward me on the lounger.