The girls are watching television and I'm in the kitchen cooking dinner. It's a lazy Sunday afternoon. Charlie's due any day and she's swollen from the heat of the hottest summer on record.

“Look at the plans, Charlie,” I yell out from the kitchen because the architect wants the final draft back to him tomorrow in order to finalize the plans for our new house. One that includes a nursery.

“Dad, I think I need a bigger closet,” Syd yells out.

“You don't.”

“I do.”

“Sydney, you don't.”

“I think she might,” Charlie replies and I'm happy that means she's actually looking at it. My wife hasn’t done anything other than ‘nest’ these past few weeks and trying to nail down these plans has been a challenge.

Yeah, I said wife. After I proposed and she accepted we decided we didn’t want to wait to make it official. We had a small ceremony in the winter to officially begin our lives together.

“Dad?” Sydney calls.

“Your brother needs a room, Sydney, unless you want to share yours with a newborn.” I round the corner to point to the blueprint when Sydney's pale face alerts me that something’s wrong.

My heart kicks into overdrive and I run over to find Charlie gripping Sydney's hand tightly in hers.

“Contraction?” I ask her.

She nods.

“Ew!” Sydney screams at the water covering the brown leather sofa.

“Sydney, get the bag by the front door and turn off the stove and the oven.” I round the sofa. “You'll be fine, baby.”

I reassure her while even though I feel my own panic setting in.

I slowly help her to the front door.

“Oh, Garrett, we're not ready,” Charlie says, some of her dark curly hair coming loose from her ponytail.

“We are. The car seat is in. His room is all ready. We're all set.”

She looks at me with worried eyes and I know what she’s thinking.

“I'm good, baby, do not worry about me during this.” I get her down the steps and into my truck. Running back inside, I scream, “Sydney, let's go!”

She runs down the stairs, grabbing the overnight bag on the way.

“What took you so long?” I take the bag from her and we both run to the truck.

“I had to put on mascara.”

I roll my eyes. “Do you think Justin Bieber is going to be there?”

We both file into the truck as I'm saying it.

“Garrett, Bieber is out.” Charlie can even find it within herself to correct me while she’s in labor.

“I never know who I'm going to see.”

“Charlie is in labor. You don't need to be trolling for boys.”

The tires of my truck squeal as I reverse down the driveway.

“Trolling?” Charlie cocks her eyebrow at me, looking at me through the corner of her eye.

“Aren't you in labor?”

She giggles. “I am, but right now I feel pretty good.” Her hands touch her stomach. She shifts her body. “Once we get to the hospital, remember to send the group text to everyone, Sydney.”

“Why does everyone have to be there?” I ask for the thousandth time.

“Because they're family. It’ll only be you and Sydney with me through the delivery.” I grip the steering wheel tighter, my anxiety creeping up with the thought of Charlie in labor.

When I glance in the rearview mirror Sydney smiles and I'm thankful she'll be in there with us.

You know, in case I pass out or have an anxiety attack or something.

The drive to Wet Rock feels like both an eternity—because I just want to get there so that Charlie is where she needs to be should something happen—and a microsecond—because I also want to prolong the inevitable.

I pull up outside the hospital doors and park, barking an order at Syd to grab a wheelchair for Charlie. She does as instructed and runs inside the hospital.

“Here, baby let me help you down.” I reach out and take Charlie’s hand, helping her shift to face me then grip her under the shoulders and lift her from the truck, setting her gingerly on the ground.

“That was a little much,” she says and shakes her head.

“Dad, I’ve got the wheelchair,” Sydney says breathlessly from behind me.

I look at her over my shoulder. “Bring it here.”

She wheels it over and I help Charlie navigate her large belly into the chair.

“Oh, jeez,” Charlie says and reaches for my hand.

“Contraction?” I ask.

She nods frantically and tries to breathe properly.

Sweat breaks out on my brow as I wait for it to pass. She’s squeezing the life out of my hand, but I don’t care.

“Okay, that wasn’t much fun,” she says when the pain has passed and let’s go of my hand.

“Syd, I need you to wheel Charlie into the labor and delivery wing. I’m gonna park the truck and I’ll be right back.”

Sydney nods her consent but she’s biting her lip so I know she’s nervous. She glances from me to Charlie and back again before she takes a deep breath and moves to stand behind the wheelchair.

I look down at the woman who is my whole life because she brought me back to life.

“I’ll be quick. Don’t you dare have that baby without me.” I plaster a smile on my face that belies how anxious I am and lean down and kiss the top of her head.

“Of course not. I can’t be screaming and cursing at Sydney while I’m pushing. That’s what you’re for.” She smiles and squeezes my hand before Syd starts pushing her inside.

I park the truck quickly and start walking back toward the hospital. I’m halfway through the parking lot when it hits me—what I’m about to go through…what I’ve been through before.

Nausea eats at my stomach and my legs start to feel weak. I stop in the middle of the lot to heave in a deep breath.

I can do this. Charlie can do this.

Tears prick the corners of my eyes as a flurry of images bombard my mind. Charlie frightened and frantic during her labor, the doctor saying something is wrong, the nurse pushing me out of the way so they can wheel her into the operating room, Charlie’s limp hand hanging over the side of the operating table—

Tears drip into my beard and bring me back to the present.

No. No. No. No. No.

I drag air into my lungs even though it feels almost impossible to do so.

The thought of anything happening to her cripples me. I know I wouldn’t recover. I know I couldn’t move forward even with two children to care for.

God, if you’re listening I know I probably don’t deserve anything from you but if you could please watch out for Charlie and my son…help them be strong. Hell, help me be strong. Shit. Sorry for saying the H-E double hockey sticks word. That probably wasn’t good. Anyway, please let this be an easy labor and delivery and please keep them safe. I promise I’ll make it my mission to be the best father and husband I can be.

I straighten up and wipe the tears from my face feeling better that I’ve asked a higher power for help. I may not be a religious man, but everyone can use a little help every once in awhile.

I begin walking toward the hospital again with a renewed resolve. Whatever Charlie needs I’m here for her. And right now, I need to be strong for both my wife and my son.

* * *

A half hour later, we’re in the birthing room. Charlie's eating ice chips and she and Syd are watching some show set in Alaska.

Like the two of them could ever live off the grid.

Dr. Chang comes in and rolls her chair between Charlie's legs.

“You're progressing great, Charlie, but your contractions aren’t quite close enough together to really get things going. I'll be back in an hour or so to see how you’re doing.” She squeezes her foot and walks out of the room.

So we sit some more. My feet start tapping, my gaze set on Charlie, who is laughing with Sydney about whatever stupid TV show they’re watching now.

Don’t either of them see how serious this is?

An hour later, Dr. Chang comes back in. “You've dilated some more.” She looks at the screen. “Your contractions are getting there. About every fifteen minutes.”

Charlie smiles over to me and then to Dr. Chang. “Yeah.”

“I'll be back,” Dr. Chang says and disappears again.

“Look, we still get a lazy Sunday.” Charlie looks between Syd and I.

She's done so well when she does have her contractions and right now she’s as cool as can be while she sucks away on her ice chips while the tension in my body just keeps increasing. I just want this over with.

Another hour goes by and my girls are still enthralled with the TV and I’m beginning to grow annoyed with how casual they’re being in this situation.

“Ow,” Charlie grips the railing of the bed and her body tenses.

“What is it? Are you okay?” I stand up and let her take my hand instead of the railing.

Sydney stands and places her hand on her shoulder.

A couple seconds go by and her body falls to the bed.

“Just a contraction.”

We all sit down, but it’s not even five minutes later and the same thing happens.

Charlie looks up at me and it's the first time that there's fear in her eyes.

“Sydney, page the nurse on that remote.” I let Charlie squeeze my hand until it's numb.

The nurse walks in ten minutes and three contractions later.

“Her contractions seem to be getting stronger and coming closer together,” I say, but the nurse just moseys on over to the screen to check things out.

“I'll call the doctor,” she says and walks away without any urgency in her step.

Charlie continues to contract, each one growing worse than the one before it.

“Are you guys having me in here for some safe sex thing?” Sydney asks, clearly becoming distraught with the whole process.

“Where is the doctor?” I ask.

Sydney feeds her ice chips and I let her use my hands as her own personal stress ball.

Dr. Chang walks in, rolls herself between Charlie's legs, and then peeks her head out. “You're a slow starter but you're galloping toward the finish line. Feel ready to push?”

Charlie nods frantically and then the doctor stands and leaves the room.

“What the fuck?” I ask.

“Garrett,” Charlie admonishes me but I don't care at this point.

Dr. Chang returns a minute later with a team of two nurses.

“It’s go time,” she says.

The room closes in on me and the corners of my vision becomes blurry. I've been here before.

“Okay, Charlie, give me one long push for ten seconds.”

My hand is in hers, she's squeezing while rising from the bed to use all the energy she has.

“Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two. Good Charlie, good. Now relax,” the doctor says.

The pressure on my hand loosens, but it feels like someone dumped a fifty-pound weight on my chest. It’s hard to breathe.

“Dad?” Sydney calls my name and I look over at her, finding a weird expression on her face. “Are you okay?”

I nod. “I'm good.” Charlie's staring up at me and I know she sees it, too. I was naive to think she wouldn't.

She takes my hand in hers. “We're all good, baby. All of us will be going home with you. Oh, fuck!” she screams and Sydney laughs.

“Okay, push again, Charlie.” A nurse brings up her leg on Sydney's side and Syd slides up toward Charlie's head. “And relax.”

Dr. Chang's voice becomes muffled in my head. “Okay, Charlie, the head is out, now I only need one really, really good push to get the shoulders out.”

“Fuck.” Charlie's gaze zeros in on me. “Never again, you hear me? That vasectomy is happening again and you will get tested.” Her entire body pries off the bed and the veins in her neck pop out. “We're doing the pill, condoms, IUD and a vasectomy!” She keeps rattling off things until her entire body collapses and the sound of a crying baby rings through the room.

The fog around me lifts.

The walls retract and I stare down at a sweaty and exhausted Charlie.

We did it. She did it.

She places her hand on my cheek and stares into my eyes. “You go with the baby, remember?”

“No.” I shake my head. I can't leave her now.

“Yes. I'm fine Garrett, just tired.”

A nurse brings the baby over for Charlie to kiss his head and then they're gone.

“We'll be right back with him. Dad?” the nurse says, wheeling our new addition out of the room.

“I'll stay with her Dad,” Sydney assures me and I bend down to kiss her head.

“You were amazing, kiddo.”

“So were you.”

I jog out of the room, following my baby.

My baby! I have a son.

Welcome to the world, Jackson Charles Shaw.

Tears of joy and relief well in my eyes as I wait impatiently for the nurses to conduct the tests and check him out before we can head back to the room.

When we arrive I see that Charlie's eyes are closed.

“She just fell asleep,” Sydney says, but I look at her monitor to make sure she's good just in case.

* * *

Later that night, after everyone has visited Jackson and Charlie, I slide in next to my wife as she cradles our baby.

“How much better are you breathing now?” Charlie giggles, kissing our son’s head.

“I'm all good. Remember the letters I gave you back around Christmas?” My hand runs along her hairline.

“How could I forget?”

“This is a first. I thought I was done with firsts, but this, sitting here and sharing our newborn child together is a first.” I kiss her temple, my hand resting on my son's back.

She smiles up at me with tears dotting the corners of her eyes. “You’re still wooing me.”

“I like to keep you on your toes.” I kiss her temple again. It’s like I can’t stop, I’m just so grateful to be sitting here with her and our son.

“Now, watch out there, Jackson. You may be making use of your mommy’s boobs this year, but make no mistake that those babies are mine once you're done with them.”

Charlie shakes her head. “They aren’t yours again for at least six weeks buddy.”

“Six weeks for what?”

“Six weeks until we can have sex.”

“Who makes that rule?” I wrinkle my forehead.

“My body has to heal, so Dr. Chang will have to clear us first.”

A disgusted look crosses my face and she giggles.

“All right then buddy, you get six weeks. Six weeks until sex weeks.”

I waggle my eyebrows and Charlie laughs, causing Jackson to let a wail rip from his newborn lungs.

Never has there ever been a sweeter melody than those two sounds.