Three years later…

“Ethan?” I look around the living room. “Where’s Ethan? Where’d he go?” Wild giggles come from under the pile of pillows in front of me. “Mom, have you seen Ethan?”

“Oh my goodness,” Sierra says, slowly walking into the living room. “Dad, did you lose Ethan again?”

“Here I am!” our son says, popping up from the pillows.

“Whoa!” I say and bring my hands to my face. “Where did you come from?”

“Again, Daddy, again!” the toddler giggles. He puts his face into the pillows and chants you can’t see me over and over.

I bury him in pillows again and sit on the couch. “I’m tired and need to lay down. This pile of pillows looks comfy.” I pretend to fluff up the pillows, and Ethan erupts in laughter. “Wait a minute. Why is my pillow laughing?”

“I’m not a pillow! I’m not a pillow!”

“Why are the pillows talking? What is going on? Hey!” I move the pillows and lift Ethan up in the air. “You’re not a pillow!” I kiss his cheeks and he tries to blow raspberries on my arm, which just leaves a trail of slobber. The second his feet hit the floor he takes off, running full-speed at Sierra.

“Mommy!”

“Careful, buddy!” I say. “You don’t want to hurt your sister!”

“Maybe you’ll make her come out,” Sierra says with a groan. She’s two days past her due date and is miserable. She kisses Ethan’s cheeks and hugs him tight. “Dinner’s ready, boys.”

I hold out a hand and help her to her feet. Not a second after she’s up, Sierra sits back down again.

“Ow.” Her hands fly to her large belly.

“Did you just have another contraction?”

“Yeah. We should probably eat. Now.”

“Maybe we should call your mom. You had a fast labor last time.”

“Not yet. They’re still too far apart.” She takes my hand and lets me help her to the table. She doesn’t make it to her chair before she pitches forward. “Okay. Call her.”

In somewhat of a panic, I rush around the house. We moved a few months ago into this house. It’s big and brand-new, built on the Belmont family property. The river runs through our backyard and it’s perfect.

I get Sierra’s hospital bag, Ethan’s overnight bag, and the bag packed for our daughter, Emma. I call Mrs. Belmont to let her know to meet us at the hospital. Then I pack up Ethan and help Sierra to the car. I’m more nervous than she is and am half convinced we waited too long and Sierra’s going to have this baby in the car.

She’s contracting every two minutes by the time we get to the hospital, and Ethan cried the last quarter of the drive, not understanding what’s going on or why Mommy is in pain.

Only three-and-a-half hours after getting checked into labor and delivery, our daughter is born. She’s nineteen inches and six-and-a-half pounds of perfection.

“I don’t remember Ethan being this little,” I say, taking my daughter in my arms.

“I was thinking the same thing,” Sierra agrees. “She’s so little and cute.” Sierra’s eyes fill with tears. “She’s so perfect.”

“She is.” I kiss her soft cheeks and put her back in Sierra’s arms, going into the waiting room to get Ethan. Holding his hand, we go back into the delivery room. He stops at the foot of the bed, staring at the little bundle in Sierra’s arms.

Then he smiles and climbs up, eager to meet his sister.

“Hi,” he says. Emma opens her mouth. “She said hi! Can I hold her?”

“Let me help you,” I say and pick Ethan up. We sit on the bed, and I put a pillow in his lap. Carefully, Sierra lays Emma on his lap, keeping a hold of her head. Ethan grins and bends down to kiss her.

“She tastes like a baby,” he says and we laugh. I lean in, putting my arm around Ethan and Sierra. I look down at my family. We’re an hour from our house, but sitting here together, I feel at home.