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broken-egg-yolk-blog · 27 days

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part one part two

Nico truly hoped Will was right. He kept claiming that as soon as the summer campers left everything would all settle down. Nico felt as if he needed that more than ever. Despite the last week of summer being significantly less eventful as most weeks, it did not stop it from being chaotic. Some campers chose to spend their last few days of camp relaxing and hanging about with their friends they wouldn’t see until next year. Others spent their time pulling last minute pranks, or using every given opportunity to exploit their demi-godly privileges until their last chance.

Friday is seemingly when reality hit. On Sunday most of the campers would pack up their belongings and head home for the school year, leaving behind their second home and their friends. This year Nico was staying for good. A mixture of emotions swelled within him. Anxiety, what if people still held grudges against him? What if they didn’t actually want him to stay at all? Sadness, his closest friends were leaving to go back to school. Sure he had some people, including Will-obviously, but the idea of losing the people he had just gained opened a wound in his heart he wasn’t prepared for. Much to his confusion, Nico also felt excited. He finally had a home. A solid, reliable home, complete with people he cared about and got to spend time with.

Will hiked up the hill to meet him. He sat down in the grass next to Nico with a slight sigh. Whenever Will sat down next to him Nico couldn’t help but notice that he sat fairly close. Close enough that their knees, or elbows, or sometimes even their hands, would bump into and brush against one another. Nico, not so secretly, enjoyed it. It was nice having someone that wasn’t afraid to be near him, someone that didn’t see him as inherently dangerous or evil.

“Hi,” Nico says.

Will glances over at him, that soft permanent smile making Nico feel compelled to return it, “Hey, death boy.”

Nico rolled his eyes lightly, he’d long since grown used to the nickname but he couldn’t help but find it mildly ridiculous every time.

“How is the infirmary?”

“Forecast says it probably won’t burn down,” Will jokes, “assuming the Stoll brothers keep it together for another forty-eight hours.”

“That is a lot to ask of them you know,” Nico met his eyes, he had been practicing eye contact with Jason earlier that day. Despite his attempts to prove Will wrong, Nico felt the strong urge to pull his focus away. Will’s eyes were way different than Jasons. There was so much more to looking at him, it made Nico’s body burn beneath his skin.

“Yeah, well, they owe me a few favors,” Will replied, his gaze tracing Nico’s face in a way that made him want to turn away and hide forever, yet simultaneously never look away.

Nico smiled at Will, the eye contact burning a hole between them. Will was the first to look away, Nico would be lying if he said he wasn’t relieved, something about it held an intensity Nico hadn’t been ready for, but the absence of it left him craving more. A comfortable silence settled between the two of them as they took turns looking out over the scene of camp below them and stealing gazes of the other when they were not looking.

Nico thought that Will had an unfair advantage when it came to looks. He felt as if he was nothing truly special, he definitely wasn’t the worst looking but when compared to Will, let’s just say he didn’t think they even belonged on the same measuring scale. Especially now, in the afternoon light, finally relaxing after a day of work, Will looked incredible. His messy blonde hair clumped into curls falling just below his law line, summer tanned skin radiating warmth, his skin decorated with an excess of freckles from a well spent summer.

“Will,”

“Yeah?” Nico could see him gaze over from the corner of his eye but he kept his gaze locked on the horizon.

“You’re from Texas, right?”

“Indeed,” Will smiled, sounding slightly confused. Nico just hummed in response. A beat of silence held between them. “Why do you ask?”

“I don’t know, I just-” Nico bit his lip, realizing now how stupid it sounded, “was curious?”

“About something you already knew?”

“Yes.” That, somehow, made Will laugh, which caused a flood of warmth to spread through Nico’s body as their legs bumped together.

“Do you want to know more about it?”

More about you, Nico thought, “Yes.”

“Okay what do you want to know?” Will asked, sounding incredibly amused. He shifted his body so that he was facing Nico more, their legs partially intertwined, crossed at the ankles. Will didn’t seem to notice, or at least he didn’t seem to mind.

Fuck, Nico chided to himself. He hadn’t thought this far in advance. He racked his brain for questions about Texas. He only ever knew one other person from Texas, Leo Valdez. The name brought a wave of sadness through Nico but he pushed it away, refusing to dwell on it right now. Leo was definitely not the prime example of a proper Texan, but it was all Nico had to work with.

“Do you have one of those hats?” Nico blurted out, it was a stupid question. The first thing that had come to his mind was a memory of a running joke between Jason, Piper and Leo about him needing some type of hat to actually count as an Texan. Will would absolutely think he was stupid.

Instead of berating him, Will laughed again. “You mean a cowboy hat?”

“Yes, one of those.”

“You tell me you want to learn more about Texas, then your first question is ‘do you have a cowboy hat?’”

“Obviously.” Nico layered his voice with as much confidence as he could.

“What type of question is that?”

“Well I heard that you're not a real Texan if you don't own one.”

“Where did you even hear that?” Will grinned, his face shining with exasperation.

“That’s not important.” Nico was gaining more reassurance, as he often did when conversations like this took off between the two of them.

“I think it might be, someone here is clearly spreading false information.”

“So then you don’t have one?”

“That is not what I said.” Will shot him a look, one that said ‘be careful here or you might just get tackled’. Nico was willing to push his luck.

“Sure sounds like it, sunshine.” That luck Nico was just thinking about? Pushed.

Will scoffed, both surprised and amused. “Fine. I do.”

“You do what?” Nico blinked at him.

“Oh don’t play stupid,”

“I simply do not know what you are talking about, Solace.”

Will grit his teeth, eyes sparkling. “I own a cowboy hat.”

“No way! Are you from Texas?” Nico gasped.

“Oh you are such an asshole,”

“You deserve it.”

“Trust me I have gotten enough shit over that hat, my mom made me take it to camp with me.” Will sighed dramatically, “She said ‘no good country artist mother would leave her baby to fend for himself without the proper attire,’. Lee and Micheal used to bully the living daylight out of me over it.”

Nico found himself laughing at the story. He imagined a young Will, showing up to Camp Half-Blood cowboy hat sat upon his head. It was a glorious image.

“Do you still have it?” Nico asked, still grinning at the mental image.

“Yeah, tucked under my bunk.” Will shook his head, not trying to hide the smile on his own face.

A thought popped into Nico’s head, “Oh please tell me you have those boots too!”

“Gods no!” Will cried out, the two boys nearly fell over each other laughing. “I am not that southern.”

“Maybe when you’re tired, or mad.”

“What?”

“Your accent, it’s more noticeable when you’re tired or mad.” Immediately after saying this Nico worried if he crossed the line from friend, into weird stalker.

“I do not. Have an accent.” Will’s voice was more dramatically shocked than stern. Nico relaxed a little bit.

“Oh you so do.”

“Fine, but so do you.”

“What?!” That earned a grin from the other boy.

“Only on certain words, usually the really italian ones, you can’t help but pronounce them correctly.” Will looked smug, his eyes narrow and smirk wide. Nico couldn’t help but blush. Will had a point.

“Fine then,” He decided, “We’re even.”

“Hmph.” Will thinks for a moment, “My turn-”

“Your turn?” Nico blurts out, cutting him off.

“Yes, you asked me a question. Now I get to ask you a question.”

“I don’t think that’s how it works-”

“It is now, I make the rules.” Will cut Nico off this time, “Your clothes, the whole edgy ‘too emo for school’ vibe, is that a cabin requirement? Or personal preference?”

Nico rolled his eyes. Piper and Percy had explained to him what emo meant a few weeks before, the first time Will had called him that.

“It’s personal preference, I think. It just matches how I feel I guess. I think I would feel like a complete loser and a total fraud in khaki shorts and an orange shirt.” Nico tried to hide his smirk on the last line.

“Yeah okay, that makes-” Will realized Nico’s attack, “What is that supposed to mean?”

“Oh nothing, you flip flop wearing fool”

“They’re so much more comfortable, my feet overheat too much otherwise.”

“I am so sure they do.” Nico had to admit, Will’s tone did sound pretty convincing.

“Whatever, so you just like the dark edgy clothes?”

“Yep.”

“Interesting,” Will paused for a moment before matter-of-factly stating: “I like them too.”

Nico’s face burnt red. “What?” He sputtered out.

“I said I like them too, they look good on you.” Will looked over Nico, as if studying his composure of dark wash jeans and black shirt. “It suits you.”

Nico forced himself to regain his composure, he needed to make some type of step forwards. He couldn’t keep letting Will fluster him and then run away.

“Well, I think you’d look really good in that hat of yours.” The words slipped from his mouth and nearly took the contents of his stomach with them.

“Really?” Will asked, obviously caught off guard.

“Oh yeah, I can see it now. It’d be great.”

Will blushed, a sight that invoked feelings within Nico that he wanted to chase for the rest of his life. Nico knew there was no turning back now. He was absolutely in over his head for this boy.

“My turn,” Nico said, not giving Will a chance to respond. “Apollo’s thing is music, right? Do you play an instrument?”

“Technically?” Will replied, still apparently recovering, “I mean I know quite a few, I’d say I’m the best at guitar out of all of them but music hasn’t ever really been my thing.”

“Right,”

“I’m not bad at it by any means but I am nowhere near as good as Austin, I guess we all have our field that we really excel in.”

“Naturally,” Nico nodded.

“Why?”

“You always ask follow-up questions to my questions.” Nico stated, watching Will carefully.

“Does it annoy you?” Will asked.

“A little bit.” Nico was not telling the truth, Will didn’t need to know that.

“Good.” He grinned.

“Okay well, you never really lead many of the campfire songs like your siblings do, I was curious again I guess.” Nico watched the other boy's face as he spoke, seeing him think through his response, watching the words formulate in his head.

“In all honesty,” Will said, that resting smile occupying his face, “It’s because they don’t like the music that I listen to as much.”

“Is it country music?” Nico had asked this seriously, but Will must have taken it as a joke because he rolled his eyes with a smile.

“Not entirely,” He shook his head lightly, his golden hair fanning out and settling back down again, “I like a lot of midwest emo,”

Nico must have looked really lost, and honestly he was. He knew what the word ‘emo’ meant but midwest emo? Those words didn’t even have meaning.

“I’ll explain it to you some other time” Will promised.

“You’ll just have to show me.” Nico shrugged, his false confidence from earlier still sitting in his gut.

“What now you want me to serenade you too?” Will looked at Nico, moving ever so slightly closer as he asked, his tone had a hint of challenge to it.

“Yes.” Nico replied bluntly. “Preferably with the cowboy hat on.”

“You ask too much of me.” Will barely shook his head, eyes still locked on the boy in front of him.

“Always. But you know,” He let his eyes slip from Will’s piercing gaze down to his lips, then immediately back up to his eyes, “It would do wonders for that charm of yours.”

With that, Nico stood up. He let whatever stupid confidence was flowing within him carry him away, back down the hill, feeling as if he was floating. Leaving the son of Apollo still dumbstruck in the grass, and very slight, incredibly, impressed.

#heroes of olympus #percy jackson #pjo hoo toa #pjo #solangelo #solangelo fic #nico di angelo #will solace #i actually didn’t proof read this #again #mildly self indulgent #okay maybe very self indulgent #this ended up being kind of really long #its fine it is mostly dialogue #i have plans #big big plans #keep an eye out for part 4

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miracleonice87 · 2 years

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lady (part two to big, big plans) - with Sidney Crosby

a/n: based on the song Lady by Brett Young. this story picks up a couple of weeks after big, big plans ended. lyrics in italics indicate jumps forward in time.

warnings: swearing, alcohol. basically all about pregnancy, babies, childbirth, etc. (my brand), so if those topics are triggering, please skip this one! complete and total fluff with just a tiny touch of angst. Sid as a dad to a newborn should also come with a warning, so here you go.

word count: ~4,000

_____

I remember when I first heard your heartbeat

It had only been eight weeks

Standing there, starin' at that screen

Was the first time you ever scared me…

Holy. Shit.

Sid blew out a deep breath, both your hands wrapped tightly around one of his for where he stood next to you at the exam table. The whooshing noise thumping through his ears seemed to reverberate from his chest to his toes. A strong, steady beat. His baby’s heartbeat. Your baby’s heartbeat. He was sure he would never hear a more beautiful sound.

“Wow,” you whispered as your eyes remained fixed on the screen, the image little more than a nondescript, imperfect circle at this eight-week mark. Tears dripped down your temples and you finally turned your head to see the wonder and bewilderment on Sid’s face. Your always calm, ever collected partner had never looked more rattled.

“Oh, my god,” he muttered, raising his eyebrows as his lips pulled into an awestruck smile. “That’s our baby.”

You nodded and your tears continued to fall freely. He raised your joined hands and pressed his lips to your knuckles, his free hand finding your head, thumb gently stroking your hairline.

“Our baby,” you repeated, giggling sweetly. “We’re really having a baby.”

Sid nodded and bent at the waist to kiss your forehead.

“Oh, my god,” he said again, chuckling against your skin.

The technician smiled at the two of you and said, “I’ll make copies of the pictures we’ve taken here today. How many would you like?”

Just as you said “maybe three,” Sid said, “ten, please,” and you glanced at him in amusement. He gave you a confused look.

“What do you mean?” he scoffed. Counting on his fingers, he continued. “Me, you, our parents, Taylor, your sister, Mario and Nathalie-”

You cut him off, placing a hand on his forearm, and looked back to the tech.

“However many you typically give is fine,” you gently assured. She smiled warmly.

“Ten copies, coming right up,” she said. “Sit tight.”

Sidney thanked her as she left the room, then his lips were on yours in a flash. You smiled into his passionate kiss, a gesture uncharacteristic of him in a public place, even when there wasn’t anyone else immediately in the vicinity.

“Are you excited?” you asked against his lips. He hummed affirmatively.

“What tipped you off?” he teased, earning a giggle. He guided you to an upright position on the table and cupped your cheek. “You’re doing the most incredible thing for us. I’m amazed. And I’m also completely terrified,” he admitted, less proudly.

You slid your hand to rest on his shoulder. “I am, too, in a way,” you confirmed. Your smile grew significantly as you added, “but I think we’re gonna fucking rock this ‘being parents’ thing, babe.”

Sidney studied you intently. “You think so?” he asked seriously, smoothing his thumb across your cheekbone.

You nodded. “I really do, Sid,” you promised. “And I wouldn’t wanna do this with anybody else.”

He leaned in for another kiss, finding comfort in you as he always did, which was more important than ever as you faced your biggest challenge to date. But you’d greet it head first, together, and he’d have you – he knew beyond a doubt that that would be more than enough.

God knows I don't know

Exactly what I'm doin', but

Good news, we got her to get through it…

“No, Sid, this piece goes up here… like… this. I think.”

“Tanger, that makes no sense. It should go down here and then come across like… wait.”

You rolled your eyes and tried to stifle a laugh at the conversation happening in your guest room-turned-nursery just down the hall from your bedroom. As you entered the room and sat down the basket of freshly washed newborn clothes on the plush rocking chair, Sid looked up at you wide-eyed.

“Did you just carry that basket up the steps by yourself?” Sid asked, mild frustration evident in his voice.

You stepped closer to him, trying to distract him by sinking your fingers into the soft curls atop his head as he sat on the floor.

“I’m six months pregnant, babe. Not an invalid,” you said, trying your best to sound nonchalant.

“That’s a non-answer,” Sidney pointed out, though he leaned into your touch.

“Uh oh,” Kris mumbled as he busied himself inspecting the crib pieces, sensing that he was about to become witness to a spat, the sort with which, after two kids of his own, he was all too familiar. He knew better than nearly anyone how tense and stressed Sid got when big things were going on – Cup runs, big trades, injuries. But nothing could compare to how big this was – welcoming his first baby with you.

The stress of it was nearly enough to drive the man to the brink. He waited on you hand and foot, barely let you out of his sight, and had forced his way into taking over nearly all of the household chores, including laundry, since finding out you were pregnant. He had given you explicit instructions not to carry the laundry baskets up the steps and to let him do it instead… but of course, you were just as stubborn as he, and attempted to sweep under the rug your blatant ignorance of his wishes in favor of surveying the progress the men had made on the baby’s crib… or, rather, the lack thereof.

“I take it things aren’t going so well in here,” you said evenly.

Sid sighed, sitting back and reaching up one hand to cradle your ever-rounding bump.

“Could be going better,” he mumbled. You bit your lip to keep from smirking at his admission – if there was one thing Sidney didn’t take well to, it was failure at something. At anything.

“Kris, we invited you over because we thought you’d have experience with this type of thing,” you pointed out, giggling.

Kris held up his hands in his own defense.

“Hey, it’s been years now since I’ve had to put together a crib!” he argued. “The technology has already evolved.”

You snorted, lightly scratching at Sidney’s head to get him to look up at you.

“How about we just hire someone to do this?” you asked gently.

“No, I’m gonna finish this if it kills me,” Sid replied adamantly. “I should be able to put together my baby’s crib.”

You held up your other hand in concession.

“Okay, whatever you say,” you said. “I’ll bring you a couple more beers and then I think I’ll take a nap.”

Sid kissed your stomach and squeezed your hip.

“Deal, as long as you’re gonna rest,” he said. “And don’t you worry – we’re gonna figure this out.”

“I have no doubt,” you assured, bending as best you could to peck his lips. “Oh, and I’m pretty sure that piece you’re holding is the top railing,” you added innocently before heading to the kitchen.

Your statement was followed by a few seconds of silence, then you heard a “hmph” from Sid and an indignant exclamation from Kris – “I told you so!”

You were awoken later by the fading light of dusk filtering in through your bedroom windows. You sat up with a yawn, propped against your oversized pregnancy pillow, and found Sid sitting in a chair across the room on his laptop.

“Hi,” you greeted groggily with a small smile.

He lifted his head and instantly beamed at you.

“There’s my girl,” he said, setting his computer aside and crossing the room to join you. “How’d you sleep?” he asked as he sat down on the edge of the bed, kissing your temple.

You sighed contentedly. “Actually so good,” you said. Sid’s grin grew wider – he knew how hard sleep had been to come by for you as you neared the end of your second trimester.

“That’s great, babe,” he said. “I didn’t wanna wake you, but… I have a surprise for you.”

You raised your eyebrows. “The crib is done?!” you asked with excitement.

Sid shrugged, feigning innocence. “I dunno, you better come see,” he said.

He eased you off the bed and led you down the hallway to the new nursery, where the door was closed. You turned to him with a curious look.

“I’m gonna cover your eyes, okay?” he asked, and you nodded as he stepped behind you, placing one hand over your eyes and opening the door with the other. “Just follow my lead. Take a step… careful.”

He guided you further into the room, and you squealed in surprise when your feet found a fluffy surface beneath them, in contrast to the hardwood that had been bare just hours ago.

You heard the smile in his voice as Sid said, “ready… and… open.”

You gently pried his hand from your face and immediately gasped at the scene before you. Earlier today, the only signs that a baby girl was on her way were the blush pink paint on the walls, the rocking chair passed down from your grandmother’s house, and the unassembled crib components scattered on the floor. Since then, the room had been transformed into the coziest place in your home. You took in the details that had been added only today – the white faux fur rug beneath your feet, the changing table on one side of the room and the long-awaited crib on the other, the ruffled curtains on the windows, the shelves that held an assortment of children’s books and stuffed animals along with a framed copy of a recent ultrasound picture and a photo of you and Sid, and, maybe your favorite of all, the pink neon sign that read “Baby Crosby” lighted above the crib.

The tears escaped you as though someone had turned on a faucet, and you could only sob as Sid wrapped his arms tightly around your chest from behind.

Though he knew they were tears of joy, Sidney still felt anxious as you cried hard, and he turned you around to cradle you against himself as he soothingly rubbed at your back.

“Shhh, honey,” he cooed. “Breathe for me, okay?” he chuckled.

You pulled back from him with a teary giggle, nodding.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you said, trying to gather yourself. “I’m okay, I swear.”

Sidney smiled, smoothing his hands up and down your arms. “Don’t apologize, babe,” he said, kissing the bridge of your nose. “I knew this might be a little overwhelming, but I just wanted to make it special for you.”

You splayed a hand across your chest, staring again at all of the thoughtful additions to the room.

“Special doesn’t even begin to cover it, Sid,” you said dreamily as your eyes found him again. “How did you even do all of this?!”

He grinned proudly. “I actually called in some reinforcements,” he said. “I didn’t feel right asking for people to buy you things for a baby shower or anything, so I asked our parents and our sisters to each pick out a certain piece, and I ordered everything and hid all the boxes in the shed. So…” he turned you again in his arms, his solid chest pressed to your back as he pointed out various elements of the room. “Your dad picked out the books, some of the ones you loved most when you were little. Your mom picked out the curtains, because she said they reminded her of the ones from your and your sister’s old room.” Your heart warmed – you realized the curtains were almost identical to the ones you used to have. “My mom picked out the changing table because she knows you’re picky about storage, just like she is. My dad picked out the stuffed animals – a little Louky he found from Rimouski, a yellow lab because he knows how much we loved Sam, and a penguin because, well… obviously.” You laughed together as he smoothed his foot over the furry rug. “Your sister picked the rug because she said you had it saved on Pinterest. And my sister chose the shelves and the framed photos because she said it’s the best she can do until the baby comes and she can take real family photos of us.” You hummed happily. “And… the sign is a gift from me.”

You turned toward him once more, your hand resting on his cheek, tears filling your eyes again.

“How can I even begin to say thank you for this, Sid?” you whispered, shaking your head in amazement, humbled by his gesture of tenderness, thoughtfulness, and pure love.

Sidney, too, shook his head. “How do I even begin to say thank you for this?” he asked, his hand finding your belly on the final word. “This is truly the least I could do. And listen, there are still plenty of finishing touches for you to add – sheets and blankets and artwork and stuff – but if there’s anything you wanna take back, we can easily return-”

You silenced him with a kiss, though pushing yourself up on your toes took a bit more effort these days. He smiled against your lips, and your hand found the back of his neck to keep him close. When you broke apart, he rested his forehead against yours.

“This is perfect,” you whispered. “It’s better than I could have ever dreamed. Thank you, babe.”

Sid smiled proudly. “I love you,” he whispered back. “And our girl.”

You nodded, resting your head on his chest as you soaked in the moment you knew would live as a sweet memory in your soul forevermore.

I hope you look just like your momma

And love her like I do

You'll see close to perfect patience

If you watch her every move…

Sid had never been happier to miss an All-Star game.

The official reason given by the team was that Sid was dealing with a hand injury that would have prevented him from playing in the game. The truth was, when the roster was released, Sid approached the Pens training staff and confirmed that, yes, he still did have a bruised hand from blocking a shot a week ago, but he would be prepared to play through it after the break. Just… not during.

Knowing that you were now well into your pregnancy, plus noting in conversations with management that there truly was no reason to push Sid’s hand injury by playing in a meaningless game, the training staff deferred to the captain, who did not travel to sunny Florida that week after all.

Instead, he spent the week in snowy Pittsburgh with you, and he had never been happier about a decision. (Well, almost never.)

The break was spent putting the finishing touches on the nursery, organizing all the smaller items you’d gotten from your recent baby showers, and relaxing together, both one-on-one and with friends from the team who had also stayed in town. Sid’s number one priority was spoiling the hell out of you.

Your favorite part of each day was simply laying together before bed, whether you were scrolling your phones, watching reruns of Friends, or reading, as you had been doing this evening.

Sid emerged from the bathroom after taking a break from his thousand-page history of World War II ships to brush his teeth and get ready for bed. You heard him chuckle softly and saw him shaking his head as you lowered your copy of The Stranger Beside Me by Ann Rule, about her complicated friendship with Ted Bundy.

“What?” you inquired, smirking. “What are you giggling about, mister?”

He let out an amused sigh and stretched out onto the bed on his stomach, reaching out his hand to rub soothingly over your bump, as was his most frequent habit as of late. He used his other hand to prop up his head.

“I just don’t know how you read these terrifying books period, let alone while you’re carrying our child,” he said, simultaneously amazed and horrified. “I would never sleep.”

You shrugged. “Well I like them,” you said stubbornly.

Sidney smiled at your obstinance, egging you on. “Our baby’s going to come out wanting to hear nursery rhymes about serial killers,” he joked.

You rolled your eyes and set the book aside. “Better than asking for one about military ships,” you murmured, curling your fingers into Sid’s thick, slightly salt-and-pepper hair.

He scoffed. “She’s going to know all about them anyway,” he insisted. “I’ll make sure of it.” Sid turned his attention back to your belly, flexing the pads of his fingertips against your middle.

“What do you think, little one? Are you gonna read military books like Dad when you’re bigger? Hmm? Or are you gonna read those weird true crime books like Mama?”

“What if she’s into science? Or philosophy?” you suggested.

He offered his sweet crooked smile “Even better,” he replied. Then, pressing his lips to your stomach he murmured, “Then she’ll be smarter than us both.”

You smiled, too, and rested your head back against your pillows, growing sleepy at Sid’s repeated movements. You stroked his smooth cheek with your thumb.

“I hope she has your eyes,” you whispered dreamily.

Sid shook his head. “Nah… I hope she looks just like her mama,” he rebutted, picking up your hand to press a kiss to your wrist.

Those were the last words you heard before you drifted to sleep, still smiling.

She'll hear you, she'll hold you, she'll help you through

She'll fix you, and me too…

This was far from the birth either of you had anticipated.

After your water broke in the early hours of a frigid March morning, Sidney had loaded your bags into his vehicle and cautiously made his way to Magee Women’s, the route familiar after nine months of regular trips to the Oakland hospital. Traffic at this time of day was virtually nonexistent, and getting checked into your labor and delivery room was, thankfully, a breeze.

The morning started easily, with you still able to laugh and talk between light contractions, even calling your and Sidney’s parents yourself to give them the exciting news that their first grandchild would soon be making her arrival. Your strength and calm made Sid feel strong and calm himself.

Until that evening, when you had been pushing for three hours but you weren’t making any progress at all. Sid could feel the anxiety gripping his heart as he watched you writhe in pain. Though he had never witnessed a birth, he got the sense that this was not “the norm.” His concern only grew as he watched your doctor send a pointed, knowing expression to the nurse standing by your bed, who was now reaching for an oxygen tank and mask, handing it to you and calmly instructing you to put the mask over your nose and breathe normally. You did so with trembling fingers, your eyes wide with fear.

Suddenly, a chorus of beeping alarms was chirping, lights flashing on every screen and monitor in the room. The nurse herself pressed the call button on your remote which brought two other nurses into the room.

No, Sid thought as he stared down at you, wide-eyed behind the oxygen mask. No, no. It isn’t supposed to be this way.

“Fetal heart rate’s dropping,” one nurse said, moving from one monitor to inspect the paper report trailing out from another.

No. No, no, no.

“Mom’s blood pressure is spiking,” another nurse said, reaching for her stethoscope.

No. No.

“I think baby’s shoulders are stuck, Mama,” the doctor explained, her voice gentle but still thick with a distinct urgency. “This is gonna hurt, and it’s not going to be easy. I’m sorry. We’ve gotta get baby out now. I need you to stay calm for me and focus on pushing as hard as you can, okay?”

With one arm lifting your shoulders off the bed and the other hand clasped tightly between both your own, Sidney focused all of his attention on you.

“You’re doing it, babe,” he encouraged, pressing his forehead to the side of your head. “You’re doing so well, sweet girl. Almost there.” He heard his own voice wavering even as he forced himself to put on brave and steady front for you.

You moved the oxygen mask away from your face, your hands shaking even more now. “It’s… so hard!” you panted, head slumping back against the flimsy pillow.

Sidney nodded, squeezing your knee. “I know it is, babe,” he sympathized. “I can’t even imagine. But you’ve got this, okay? You do.”

You looked at him, sniffling, the most pitiful expression on your face. “It hurts, Sid,” you cried. “It hurts so bad.”

His throat tightened at your admission – you had a high pain tolerance, and past that, you never, ever complained. He knew that this was the worst pain of your life, and he wished more than anything that he could bear it for you instead.

“I know, honey, I know,” he soothed, blinking back tears of his own. “But you’re almost done, okay? Our baby is almost here – she’ll be here so soon. Right?”

You nodded, frowning, your breath coming in slow, uneven gasps.

“Right,” he answered himself, positioning the oxygen mask back over your nose and mouth. “So listen – let’s take some deep breaths and get ready to bring her here to us. Okay?”

You responded immediately to his coaching, pursing your lips to control your breathing as you’d both learned in the many birthing classes you’d attended over the past several months. You knew he was right. No matter the unexpected circumstances, you were made for this – you could do this. And you would, with Sidney right beside you, supporting you each step of the way.

“Okay,” you whispered, feeling the urge to push again. “Okay, I’m ready.”

Sid lifted your shoulders so that you were in a crunch position once again. “Good girl,” he praised as the nurse counted you through your pushing. “That’s my girl.”

You can always run to daddy

You'll always be my baby, but

Look at her, baby girl

And you'll learn how to be a lady…

Saylor Paige Crosby arrived after four full hours of pushing, her dramatic birth not at all representative of her laid-back nature. She barely whimpered during those first sacred hours after her birth, save for when she was hungry. Her proud grandparents “ooh”d and “ahh”d over her sweet disposition and soft coos, and could barely pull themselves away for the night when the nurse gently reminded them that visiting hours were long over. They reluctantly said their goodbyes, and before they had even made their way out of the maternity ward, Sid turned around to find you already sleeping peacefully.

He smiled softly to himself, Saylor tucked in one arm, and pulled the covers up to your shoulders with his free hand, bending down to press a light kiss to your forehead. He backed away from you silently and took a seat in the recliner at the end of the bed, focusing once again on Saylor.

“You and Mama had a long day, huh?” he rasped, smoothing one hand over the blanket tightly wrapped around the baby’s form. “She’s so strong, baby girl,” he added incredulously. “She didn’t even swear at me while she was bringing you here,” he added with a wry grin. “I think that’s pretty good.”

He sighed deeply, looking up again at your sleeping form.

“You’ve both been through so much today,” he said, looking back to Saylor. “But you’re here now, huh? You’re here, and you’re safe, and you’re the most beautiful little girl in the world.” He traced a finger over his daughter’s familiar features. “Yes, you are. And I was right about one thing,” he continued, beaming. “You look just like her. Lucky girl.” He pulled the hospital-issued cap, complete with a giant bow, down further to cover Saylor’s ears. “The luckiest girl, to have her as your mama. She’s the most wonderful person in the world, with the kindest heart. She loves you more than anything, Say. I can promise you that,” he said, sniffling, swiping at the stray tears that had fallen. “And I know you’ll love her like I do.”

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