I’m not allowed back in the room with Claree once we arrive. I tried, God did I try, until they threatened to call security and have me removed from the building. My dad and Chief took me to the side and helped calm me down. My worry for Claree and our baby is too much for me to wrap my mind around. Never, not one time did I consider the possibility that something could go wrong with the birth of our baby.

“I’m looking for the family of Claree Dennison,” the doctor announces.

I jump up out of my seat and rush over to her, “I’m her boyfriend, the father,” I state.

Her parents come up behind me, Chief places his hand on my shoulder as Trinity grabs my hand. “We’re her parents,” Trinity says.

“Okay, we need to get her prepped and ready for a cesarean, she’s suffering from preeclampsia.” I stagger back some when she says this, I have no clue what it means, but it doesn't sound like a good thing.

“So, what does that mean, what do we do?” I ask, the questions bursting forth before I can stop them.

“Basically, we need to go in and surgically remove the baby before we possibly lose one if not both of them,” she sympathetically informs me. I squeeze my eyes shut and try not to think about that possibility.

“Can I be there?” I mean, I don’t remember that part of the birthing class. Wait...did she say lose them? I feel the ground beneath my feet shift before my dad wraps his arms around me and pulls me close.

“She’s gonna be okay, Talon,” my dad whispers in my ear, once he moves Chief and takes his place. “Can he be in there with her?” he asks the doctor.

“No, she’s not regained consciousness. Time is of the essence here, can you sign the paperwork?” she asks, looking in Chief and Trinity’s direction.

Trinity reaches out and takes the clipboard and quickly signs her name, giving them permission to cut on my girl.

“How...how long?” I whisper. My voice is no longer my own. I don’t recognize it at all, but somehow the doctor understands.

“We can have the baby out in minutes,” she states. “Now, the waiting room is on the third floor, where we’ll move her after the surgery. Someone will be out as soon as possible.” I’m practically shoved and pulled into the elevator where we head up to the third floor. I pace the waiting room and halls for what seems like hours but is technically only minutes. When a nurse comes and asks for her family, I basically maul her, grabbing her by her shoulders and slightly shaking her.

“Is she okay? What about the baby?” I fire the questions out in a rushed breath.

“Sir, please remove your hands from me,” she says, trying to break the hold I have on her.

“Sorry, shit, I’m so sorry,” I say, removing my hands from their position on her. “I didn’t realize I’d done that, I apologize.” I’m trying to remind myself that I can’t put my hands on someone in the heat of the moment.

“Ms. Dennison is out of surgery, everything went really well. The doctor is settling her in her room, she can have one visitor now,” she informs me.

“What about the baby?” my mom and Trinity come up behind me, they’re holding hands supporting each other.

“He’s doing perfect, he was healthy and screaming as he came into the world,” she says in glee.

“He?” I question, “we have a boy?” I fall back into my dad, who once again, as he always has, catches me.

“Oh, I’m sorry, did you not know?” she panics.

“No,” I whisper. I notice my dad and Chief light up with excitement.

“Did you assholes hear that? I have a grandson!” Chief hollers out, he’s always complaining about how all the women in his life love to gang up on him and how he shoulda had a boy to help even out the playing field.

“We, motherfucker, we have a grandson,” Dad rectifies his statement.

“Whatever,” Chief dismisses him.

“Go see your woman and check on your boy,” Dad says as he slaps me on the back. I follow the nurse down the hallway to Claree’s room.

“They’re just getting your son bathed and getting some blood work then we’ll be bringing them here to her room. The one she’s in now will be the one she’ll stay in until it’s time for her to head home. She’s already been to the recovery room and did well, so we moved her here,” she says pointing to Room 309.

“Thank you,” I reply, opening up the door that will lead me to the love of my life.

I wake up in recovery and immediately my hands go to my stomach. It’s not flat, but it’s not as protruded as it was. I begin to panic. “My baby, where’s my baby?” I cry out.

“Shhh, your baby is fine. We’re getting him cleaned up and then we’ll move you both to your room,” a nurse states as she comes alongside my bed. “Are you in any pain?”

Pain? Why would I be in pain? She must see the confusion on my face because she says, “Honey, you had to have a cesarean. What do you remember?”

I think back and come up with nothing once we get into the SUV. “My mom had asked me when I last felt a contraction, I think,” I murmur. “I don’t remember anything after that.”

“You passed out, you were suffering from pre-eclampsia and we had to remove the baby quickly to ensure yours and his safety,” she informs me. He? I have a boy, a son? She must see the look of shock on my face and asks, “You didn’t know you were having a boy?”

“No, ma’am, we chose to wait and find out when we had him,” I tell her.

“Well, your little guy has a great set of lungs and he’s absolutely perfect. We’ll have him with you shortly.”

“Can... can I see Talon, his father?” I ask hopefully.

“Not yet, but he’ll be sent to the room we’ll be moving you to as soon as we have you settled. Bet he’s anxiously wanting to see you too. Now, as far as you go, don’t try and tough it out. Take the pain meds and let your body heal. Once we move you to your room, they’ll be getting you up. It’s important to move to get things moving again,” the nurse states. I’m anxious to see him so we can meet our boy, together. I wish she’d stop talking and do what needs to be done so I can get out of here and into the room she’s been going on about.

Laying back as she takes my vitals and notates shit on the tablet she’s carrying, my brain is going ninety to nothing. We had a few names we both liked, and I hope that once we see our son, we’ll be able to narrow it down to one.

Finally, after what seems like forever, an orderly comes in and says, “You ready to roll?” I nod, and he checks to make sure that the side rails are up before stating, “Keep your arms and hands inside at all times,” in a cheesy voice that has me giggling. “But you can do a princess wave if you want,” he continues joking. He’s freaking funny, and I must still have some pain medicine in my system, because I find him hysterical. “Most women do.” I crack up, but then hold my stomach because I can feel where my incision is, it’s pulling with my laughter.

“Here, use this whenever you want to laugh or have to cough,” he says, handing me an extra pillow. “Your nurses will tell you all about it, but my wife had a C-section, and I remember her pillow was her best friend.”

“Thank you,” I mutter. “This was totally unexpected,” I explain to him.

“Most are, and most people don’t pay attention to that part of the birthing class.” Shit, it’s like he’s in my head or something. We didn’t pay attention when they went over possible surgical intervention!

“Yeah, Talon saw they were showing it and for a guy who can watch slasher films, he turned a bit green, so we snuck out.” This makes the orderly chuckle and he’s still doing so when he gets to my new room.

“We have arrived at our final destination, please keep your arms and hands by your side at all times and don’t move them, I can’t be held accountable if you try to fly on your own,” he teases me.

“Whatever they gave me makes me think I can fly, that’s for sure.”

“Let’s get her transferred over to her bed,” a nurse says, coming into the room. “Pretty sure there are some family members who are eager to see her and the little man. But for now, only one will be allowed back until you have a chance to meet your little man.” I pray that it’s Talon who comes to the room to see me. I love my mom, but I need him now.

I grin, and I know it’s loopy because of the drugs they gave me and continue to pump into me. The nurse doesn’t seem to mind too much, smiling at me as she and the orderly carefully move me from the gurney into a bed. “Okay, let’s adjust the bed so you’re more comfortable,” she states. “And I see that Tom gave you the belly pillow already.”

“Was that his name? The orderly?” I ask. Like I’ll remember shit, hell I can’t remember if I ate recently. This day is mixed up for me, I can barely remember my middle name let alone the birth of my first child! This is a day in the history books that will be great, and sad at the same time.

“Yeah. He’s one of our favorites up here because he’s a father himself, so he treats every woman like he would if they were his.”

“He’s hysterical, had me rolling in laughter from the moment he entered the room,” I tell her. She cackles and nods her head in agreement.

“Your young man should be joining you here shortly, let’s get your vitals done so I can chart them,” she tells me, and all I can think is again? I just had this done before I left the recovery room.

As soon as she’s marking things down on the computer in the room I notice out of the corner of my eye the door opening. When Talon steps through, my face splits into a huge smile I can feel go from cheek to cheek. “We have a son,” I announce.

He returns my smile and says, “We sure do, baby girl. How are you feeling?” he asks me, and I can see the concern etched across his face.

“I’m good, not feeling much in my lower half, but other than that I feel fantastic!”

“She should,” the nurse informs him, “she’s still flying high from the medications they gave her during and after her procedure.”

“Ah, I see,” he responds, walking over to me and leaning over, giving me a kiss on my forehead. “Have you met our boy yet?”

“Not yet, they’re cleaning him up and running some tests. I was promised it shouldn’t be long now,” I answer him.

“Let me go and see how fast we can get him to you,” the nurse says to us as she walks out the door.

“She seems nice,” Talon says, still looking into my eyes. I don’t know what he’s searching for, but whatever it is, he seems happy when he finds what he’s looking for. “You took ten years off of my life, you know that, right?”

“I’m sorry,” I say with my head bowed.

“Not your fault, but I don’t think I can go through that again.”

“Are you saying you don’t want any more babies?” I ask, scrunching my forehead up, because I want at least two.

“No, I’m saying that having you completely collapse in my arms unconscious is something I don’t want to relive ever again,” he replies. “I nearly lost my shit when they came out and told us you had to have an emergency cesarean. If my dad hadn’t caught me, I would have hit the ground. Maybe we don’t have any more biological children, because I just can’t fucking do that again. There are plenty of kids out there without parents to love them, we could take them in and show them there is, just like our parents did for us.”

“So, you’re not saying no to more children, just not more that carry our DNA?” I ask, pondering what he just said. I know he’s right about other kids needing homes, but I need to think on this, because I wanted to have more of our own children than just our little guy. Before I get a chance to voice this to him, the door opens, and I see a bassinet being wheeled into the room.

“Special delivery,” our nurse says with a smile on her face. Talon and I both light up when we hear him cry out. “I’m thinking he’s hungry, are you breastfeeding or bottle feeding?” she questions me. I look at Talon because I’ve been up in the air on making this decision. She must see the indecision on my face because she tells me, “You could always pump your breast milk and feed him from a bottle that way.” She shrugs her shoulders before continuing, “I know at your age it probably seems a bit...strange, but if you can do it, it’ll give him a good head-start on life. Ultimately, it’s your decision.”

“I think I’d like to try the pump,” I respond.

“I’ll be right back, we’ll get you some breast milk pumped and get this little guy fed,” she scurries out of the room after she places our son between us. Talon carefully picks him up and hands him to me. I unwrap his blanket and count his little fingers and toes.

“He’s perfect,” I say around my sobs.

“Yes, he is,” Talon agrees. Our son stops crying and opens his eyes, he looks up at me and I can tell he’s trying to focus. “Look at that, all he needed was his mom.” It does seem that way. We spend some time with our boy while waiting on the nurse to return. When she does, Talon goes and sits on the couch, holding our boy and the nurse shows me how to use the machine. Once I get enough in a bottle, Talon brings him back over to me and we feed him. Together. I’m holding our son and Talon is holding me. This right here is what life is supposed to be about. Love, joy and family.

“What name is going to go on this one’s birth certificate?” she asks us.

I look at Talon, and at the same time we say, “Steel Turk Hatchet.” We smile at each other because we had two names we had been debating, but the fact that we agreed without finalizing it, makes this the perfect name for him.