2025-12-15 23:50:30
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TWO-WEEK CHECKUP
The pediatrician's office was bright and cheerful—walls painted with animals, toys scattered in the waiting area, other exhausted parents holding squirming infants.Ethan carried Thomas's car seat while Isabelle checked them in. Their first official pediatrician visit. Two weeks old today."Cole family?" A nurse called from the doorway.They followed her to an exam room. Ethan set the car seat on the counter and unbuckled Thomas, who'd been sleeping peacefully."Let's get a weight first," the nurse said.Thomas, naked except for a diaper, went onto the scale. He immediately started crying."Seven pounds, twelve ounces," the nurse recorded. "That's excellent. You've gained nine ounces since birth. Perfect growth trajectory."Dr. Shah entered with a tablet and a warm smile. "Hello! This is Thomas, yes? Two weeks old?" She washed her hands and approached the exam table. "How are we doing, parents? Everyone surviving?""Barely," Ethan said."That's normal. You're in the thick of it now."
ETHAN FALLS DEEPER
One week.Seven days since Thomas was born, and Ethan hadn't left the estate. He kept telling himself he'd move back to his own place once Isabelle was more recovered, once they had a routine established. But every morning, he woke in the guest room and couldn't imagine leaving.Not when Thomas needed him."Good morning, buddy," Ethan said, lifting Thomas from the bassinet at six AM. "Ready for breakfast? Let's go find Mom."He'd started talking to Thomas constantly. Narrating everything—diaper changes, outfit selections, the weather outside the window. The nurses had said babies responded to voices, learned language through constant exposure.But really, Ethan just liked talking to his son.Isabelle was already awake in the master bedroom, pumping. She looked exhausted—dark circles under her eyes, hair pulled back messily."He's hungry," Ethan said, bringing Thomas over."Give me two minutes to finish this."Ethan walked Thomas around the room, bouncing gently. "Mom's making breakfas
COMING HOME
The discharge nurse went through the final checklist."Car seat properly installed? Pediatrician appointment scheduled? Warning signs to watch for?" She looked at Ethan and Isabelle. "Any questions?"They shook their heads, both terrified and trying not to show it."Then you're good to go. Congratulations again." The nurse smiled at Thomas, sleeping peacefully in his car seat. "He's beautiful."Ethan carried the car seat, moving with exaggerated care like Thomas might shatter. Isabelle walked slowly beside him—still sore, still recovering, but cleared for discharge after two days.The truck was parked at the hospital entrance. Ethan had installed the car seat base three times the night before, watching YouTube videos, reading the manual cover to cover, making sure it was perfect.He clicked the carrier into place. Checked it twice. Then checked again."It's secure," Isabelle said from the passenger seat."I know. Just making sure."He drove like he was transporting explosives. Ten mil
FIRST HOURS
The recovery room was quieter than the delivery room had been.Softer lighting, comfortable bed, a bassinet on wheels where Thomas slept wrapped in the blue and white hospital blanket. Isabelle lay propped against pillows, exhausted but unable to stop watching their son.Ethan sat in the chair beside her bed, also watching. He hadn't stopped watching since Thomas was born three hours ago. Couldn't look away from the tiny face, the impossibly small hands, the chest rising and falling with each breath."I can't believe he's real," Ethan said for the tenth time."I know." Isabelle shifted, wincing. Everything hurt. "I carried him for nine months and I still can't believe he's here."A nurse knocked and entered. "Ready to learn some basics? Feeding, diaper changes, swaddling?"For the next hour, they received a crash course in newborn care.The nurse showed them how to support Thomas's head, how to check if he was hungry, how to tell a wet diaper from a dirty one. She demonstrated swaddli
PUSHING & COMPLICATIONS
"Alright, Isabelle," Dr. Patel said, positioning herself at the end of the bed. "When the next contraction comes, I need you to push. Big push, hold for ten seconds."Isabelle gripped the bed rails. Ethan stood beside her, one hand holding hers, the other supporting her back."You can do this," he said. "You're so strong. You can do this."The contraction came. The monitor showed the peak."Push!" Dr. Patel commanded.Isabelle pushed with everything she had. Ten seconds that felt like an eternity. Then she collapsed back, gasping."Good. That was good." Dr. Patel checked the monitor. "Baby's moving down. We're making progress."Again. And again. And again.Push after push after push. Isabelle lost track of how many. Her entire world narrowed to the contraction building, the command to push, the effort that took every ounce of strength."I can't," she gasped after the eighth push. "I can't do it anymore.""Yes you can." Ethan wiped her forehead. "You're almost there. Our son is almost
LABOR BEGINS
The labor and delivery nurse got Isabelle settled into room 412."Let's check your progress," she said, snapping on gloves. After a quick exam, she nodded. "Four centimeters dilated. Water broke, contractions every seven minutes. You're definitely in active labor.""How long?" Isabelle asked."First babies? Could be twelve hours, could be twenty-four. Everyone's different." The nurse attached monitors to Isabelle's stomach. "Let's get you comfortable and see how things progress."Ethan took up position in the chair beside her bed. He'd done this before—sort of—during the false labor scare. But this time felt different. Real. Final.The first few hours were manageable.Contractions came and went—uncomfortable but tolerable. Isabelle breathed through them, squeezing Ethan's hand when they peaked. He coached her breathing like they'd practiced in the online class he'd completed last week."In through your nose, out through your mouth. That's it. You're doing great."But as evening turned
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