Authors: Jasmine Carolina
I know you’ll remember the days we camped out in the living room, making s’mores in front of the fireplace while Dad made fun of us. You’ll remember the time we danced outside in the rain, and for the next week, we stayed in bed, both sick as dogs. You’ll remember the times the two of us went out for ice cream when you didn’t want to tell Dad what was wrong with you. You’ll remember all the small moments we shared, and those moments will help you shape your own with the family you are about to create.
Don’t take a second of your life for granted, Brody. If this experience has taught me anything, it’s taught me that tomorrow isn’t promised. I would give anything for just a few more tomorrows.
You have more days than I am likely to get. Don’t let them pass you by, because there will be a time in the future where tomorrow won’t come.
Live for today. Life for the moment. There is no right time. There is no right moment. There is only right here, and right now, and who you spend your days with and who you spend your nights thinking about.
Tell your wife you love her every chance you get. Dance in the rain even though you know you’re going to get sick from it. Try all the crazy foods you think you won’t like. Kiss her when she’s mad at you. Buy her flowers when you’re arguing, even if you don’t think you’ve done anything wrong. Go to a karaoke bar and sing at the top of your lungs because you know it’ll make her smile, even though we both know damn well you can’t carry a tune in a bucket with a lid on it. Hug her tightly every night. Watch her while she sleeps. Kiss her first thing in the morning, even when she thinks she has morning breath.
Don’t put any of this off until tomorrow, next week, next month, next year, because you never know if any of those days are promised to the two of you.
My biggest fear is that I’m going to miss it all. That I’m not going to be able to cry from the front row while you say, ‘I do’. That I’m not going to be able to argue with your new wife over where Thanksgiving and Christmas dinner is going to take place. That I’m not going to be able to try and talk you out of your baby names. That I’m not going to get to experience all the big moments with you, particularly this one, where my son’s heart gets placed into another woman’s hand for safekeeping.
But that fear fades away when I look into your eyes, because I know you’re so much like me. You’re smart. You’re going to choose someone who will take good care of your heart. You’re going to choose someone who would have hugged me when I cried at your wedding. You’re going to choose someone who would argue back at me over where your holidays will be spent. You’re going to choose someone who would be strong-willed enough to not give a rat’s ass what I think of your baby names.
You’re going to choose someone with as strong a will as yours, and for that reason alone, I am more than happy to leave your heart in the palm of her hands.
You better not mess it up.
Because that girl is going to stitch your heart back together until it’s no longer broken.
I love you always, baby boy.
-Mom
EPILOGUE
Two months later
“YOU ARE SO BEAUTIFUL, SWEET GIRL,” I say, wrapping my arms around my wife and resting my hands over her slightly swollen belly. “I love you.”
She grins, hairbrush in hand as she pulls her hair to the side to style. She winks at me in the mirror, and once her hair is how she wants it, she turns around to face my, arms around my neck. Everything about her is beautiful, from the smile she gives me as she gazes up at me, to the glint in her brown eyes that hasn’t died since the day we met, to the way she devours me with her gaze, to the way her belly presses against my body.
“I love you more,” she says.
“If you say so,” I tease, kissing her nose.
She leans up on her tiptoes and kisses me gently. I twine my fingers in her hair, momentarily getting lost in the feel of her, the feel of her lips on mine, of her body pressed against me, of her love for me showing with every touch, every kiss, every embrace.
I love this woman.
In every meaning of the word, I love her. I love her more than I have ever loved anyone in this world. And I can honestly say that I’ve never been happier.
After two months of marriage, I still can’t believe she’s mine. Legally, eternally, in every way possible. When I see my mother’s rings on her finger, I think of all the fighting and pain it took us to get her. And when she smiles at me, I think of the fact that there was a point in time where I thought she hated me, and I’m reminded of how far we’ve come since then. Then, I look at her abdomen, growing every day with our child, and I am reminded of all the love we share, and how that love is going to bring a new life into the world.
“I wanted to talk to you about something before we head out for our appointment,” she says, and she averts her gaze.
Today is her twenty week ultrasound appointment, and she’s been counting down the days. She’s anxious to find out our baby’s sex, and she thinks I can’t tell. Every time we’re in a Wal-Mart or walking through the Galleria, she sees something she’d like to get for the baby, but I’ve been adamant on not buying anything until we know what we’re having. And don’t even get me started on Ana. Ever since she found out Sabrina is pregnant, she’s been picking little things up at every store she goes to. She’s worse than Sabrina. But it’s Sabrina I have to live with. She’s dying to go crazy and shop, I know it.
I also know about the stash of baby clothes and toys she has hidden in a box at the bottom of the hallway closet.
She can’t get anything past me, even if she tried.
“What’s on your mind, Dove?” I ask.
She takes a seat, and she gestures for me to do the same. I sit in the computer chair and lean back, crossing my ankle over my leg. She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear and takes a deep breath.
“I wanted to talk to you about…names. I know you wanted to wait, but I’ve had one on my mind ever since I found out I was pregnant. I want to run it by you.”
She sounds cautious, but I don’t know why. I only wanted to wait to discuss all this because after all we’ve been through, I didn’t want to be premature and start planning anything until she was safely out of her first trimester. We still haven’t told anyone besides Nickayla, Cason and Dalis, and Sabrina’s family, and the whole name thing has been last on my list of things to do.
“Okay. What is it?”
She closes her eyes. “I want you to have an open mind, okay? I’ve been playing around with our mothers’ names…I wanted a way to honor them all. I realize now that my mother wasn’t selfish in what she did, and she never would have left us if that wasn’t the only option she saw at the time. And Ana…well, Ana has been the only real mother I’ve known, and I know exactly what your mom meant to you. So I’ve been playing around and I came to a conclusion.” She pauses. “If the baby is a boy, you can choose his name. But if the baby is a girl—and I will
not
budge on this—I want to name her Clarissa.” She pauses again, trying to gauge my mood from the look on my face. “Clarissa Anastasia.”
I cannot breathe.
I love this woman so much. Every day since I was released from the hospital, I’ve been sharing more and more about my mother with her. She knows how much Mom meant to me, and how much it hurt to lose her both times. But the fact that she thought to consider my mother’s name as a potential name for our child? That’s amazing.
She’s
amazing.
She’s so amazing and I doubt she even knows it.
I step out of the computer chair and drop to my knees before my wife. I place a hand gingerly on each knee, spreading them slowly and positioning myself between her legs. I grab the hemline of her shirt and press a tender kiss to her small baby bump.
“If it’s a girl, Clarissa Anastasia,” I agree, getting choked up. The thought she put into a girl’s name is incredible. I couldn’t have picked a better name for our potential daughter if I tried. Little does she know, I put some thought into this, too. I just never divulged anything to her. “If it’s a boy, Brennan Michael.”
Brennan is a name I just thought sounded cool. Michael is where all the thought got put in. Michael is my maternal grandfather’s name. I was named after him because he and Mom were incredibly close. And after spending time with him since being released from the hospital, I decided I wanted his name to live on. It just seems appropriate to me.
I look up at her for approval, and she nods. I pull her to her feet, cradling her head and kissing her once more. Her hands come up to tangle in my hair, and she moans into my mouth. Momentarily, I lose myself in her. Our marriage has been amazing thus far, and the sex…well, it’s been phenomenal. Ever since the morning sickness finally passed, my girl has been completely insatiable.
Not that I’m complaining.
Well, not usually anyway.
Today I am, because I’m excited to find out what we’re having just as she is.
I don’t want to spend another second without knowing what we’re having. Because I have to admit, I kind of want to go crazy with her. Especially since I have things lined up with Henry to start building the nursery. I want everything to be perfect, and I want to surprise her. And I can’t do that if I don’t know whether to buy pink or blue.
“Come on,” I say, pulling away from her. It’s much too soon, I see, from the look on her face. “If we get started now, we’re going to be late.”
She gives me a look that says,
Would that be so bad?
Yes, yes it would. Because if I have to spend one more day with her chomping at the bit to find out what we’re having, I’m going to go insane. We’re making this appointment, and we’re going to make it there on time.
…
SHE LOOKS NERVOUS.
This is a look I’ve never seen on her before, honestly.
She lies back, her shirt lifted as the ultrasound tech moves the wand around on her belly. Me, I can’t keep my eyes off the screen, and the sound of our baby’s heartbeat echoes in my ears. But Sabrina hasn’t even looked in that direction since we got in this room. She kept her gaze on me the entire time, and I wonder why that is.
“Do you want to know your baby’s sex?” the technician asks us.
“Yes,” I say, but Sabrina stays silent. She squeezes her eyes shut, and I lean over to run my hand over her forehead. “What’s wrong?”
She shakes her head, but I know my wife. She’s never this silent, not unless something’s wrong. My mom told her to fight me, but what she didn’t bank on was me fighting back. I know when she’s trying to keep something from me or when she’s feigning ‘fine’. She’s anything but fine, so I take her hand and bring it up to my mouth.
She’s shaking. She’s so damn cute when she’s nervous. But she has nothing to be nervous about. Boy or girl, no matter what, this baby is going to be the most loved baby in the entire world.
“You want me to tell you?” I offer, wondering if instead of nerves, it’s excitement that’s keeping her from looking.
She nods, closing her eyes.
I glance up at the tech, and she nods in acknowledgment. I lean over to kiss my wife on the mouth, my silent way of letting her know that everything is going to be okay. I think she just needs that reassurance every now and then. I can’t say that I blame her. After a few moments, she glances at the screen, then turns to glance at me.
“Girl,” she mouths.
Girl.
We’re having a girl.
I’m going to have a daughter.
Yet another girl for me to protect.
I kiss Sabrina’s hand and smile through the tears threatening to fall. Her eyes snap open, and they are wide with anxiety. I press a kiss to her lips once, twice, three times, and I rest my forehead against hers. I can’t even find the words to explain how elated I am right now. But she’s looking at me like she’s about to kill me if I don’t give her her answer yesterday.
I grin, because I know she’s
really
about to go crazy with the shopping once I tell her.
“Clarissa,” I whisper.
PLAYLIST
Everything Has Changed-
Taylor Swift ft. Ed Sheeran
Something-
Griffin Peterson
The Mechanic-
Rascal Flatts