“Hold my head inside your hands, I need someone who understands. I need someone, someone who hears, for you, I’ve waited all these years.”

I sing softly to Dorian, who is asleep in my arms, careful not to disturb my sleeping wife. She needs rest, but the lyrics to my favorite Coldplay song seem to comfort our daughter, and I’m proud that she has such good taste in music already.

Our daughter.

As I trail my fingers over her soft cheeks, and bring her face up to nuzzle, I can’t believe that we actually made this tiny human. This beautiful little baby is just a creation of the two of us, made from actual love.

I never understood the saying until right now.

And I thought my wife was strong before … but, damn. There is nothing as humbling as seeing your partner go through the birth of your child. She is a warrior, more virile than any soldier or fighter. She fought for life; she fought for our daughter to be born. Witnessing that was like looking at the world from high up in space; the bigness of that moment is not one I’ll ever forget.

Imogen stirs in the bed, stretching her arms and then turning to watch as I walk Dorian around in my arms.

“Hi,” she whispers.

“Hi, you.” I mouth, winking at her. “How are you feeling?”

She considers me a moment, moving her legs and shifting. “Not too bad, actually. A little groggy, definitely hungry, and very sore where I just pushed our daughter out … but all in all, not too bad.”

“You amaze me.” She really does.

“How does it feel, Daddy?”

The use of that name, a title I wasn’t sure would ever apply to me, melts my heart. “Fucking fantastic.”

“Theo!” Imogen whisper scolds.

“What? The kid is barely a day old, she has no idea what I’m saying. Although if you repeat it, I’ll wash your mouth out with soap, kid.”

This makes my wife chuckle. “I need a muffin or something. And a glass of wine. Oh, and sushi. Gah, sushi, I can’t wait for that. Can I have that yet?”

“You can have whatever you want … tomorrow. When we go home. I think I’d get in trouble with the nurses if I was carting in raw tuna and chianti.”

“Fair enough. I’ll take a muffin then. And a very large, very caffeinated coffee.”

“That I can do for you.” Dorian stirs in my arms, letting out a little cry. “Perfect timing. Why don’t you feed her, and I’ll go get you some breakfast?”

Imogen motions for the baby and pulls her nightgown down seamlessly while latching our daughter on. Dorian figured out the breastfeeding thing from the moment she came into the world, and she’s a hungry little girl. It’s actually the coolest thing watching our baby eat from her mother. The human body sure is weird … and awesome.

The hospital cafe is crowded, and it takes me almost twenty minutes to gather a tray for Imogen and I and bring it back upstairs. When I get to her room, Ozzie and Nicole have bogarted the baby.

“I can’t be held responsible if I steal her.” Nicole is telling Imogen.

“Hey!” Ozzie stands as I enter and comes to wrap me in a bear hug. “Welcome to the dad club, brother! Has she peed on you yet?”

Setting Imogen up with her breakfast, I laugh. “Not yet, but I’m sure the day will come.”

“She’s almost giving me baby fever,” Nicole coos, stroking Dorian’s cheek.

Ozzie narrows his eyes at her. “Don’t go getting any ideas. Let’s go home and watch our daughter throw a temper tantrum for two hours before falling asleep. That’ll break that baby fever damn quick.”

Imogen looks at me with a smile lighting her green eyes. “Thanks for the breakfast.”

She proceeds to tear into the meal with a ferociousness that I’ve never seen from her.

“Oh, just wait until she gets her hands on alcohol. You’re going to have a drunk Imogen in three sips flat.” Nicole stares at my wife going to town on the tray in front of her. “So, how does your vagina feel?”

Imogen and I practically choke, her on food and me on my own tongue.

“Jesus, Nic, can you censor a little bit?” Ozzie blushes.

She gives him a pointed look. “Would you have married me if I did?”

He shrugs. “She’s got me there.”

Nicole and Ozzie stay for another hour, until Dorian really falls asleep and Imogen is looking exhausted.

“All right, we’ll get out of your hair, but I am coming to stay on Nantucket for at least a week whenever you get thoroughly tired caring for that cutie. She’s beautiful, guys. Congratulations.”

Nicole bends to say goodbye to her friend, and I shake Ozzie’s hand.

I place Dorian in the bassinet beside Imogen’s bed and then push the hair off of my wife’s forehead.

“Do you want to sleep?”

She nods. “But I wish we were in our bed.”

“Well, it’s not a great alternative, but I think we could make this work.”

I gently nudge her to one side of the stiff hospital bed mattress and kick off my shoes to climb in beside her. With a little adjusting, we cuddle up with her back spooned against my front.

“Thank goodness you showered today,” I tease, nuzzling her sweet-smelling hair.

She pats my thigh in admonishment. “Look at her. I could watch her sleep all day long.”

That’s precisely what we did. We watched our daughter sleep until our eyes could no longer be propped open.