Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 73774 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 369(@200wpm)___ 295(@250wpm)___ 246(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73774 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 369(@200wpm)___ 295(@250wpm)___ 246(@300wpm)
“She came eight weeks early and spent two weeks in the NICU while her lungs finished developing,” she says, once she’s gotten ahold of herself. Backing up slightly, she pulls her phone out of her back pocket and scrolls for a few seconds before turning it around so I can see what’s on the screen.
“That’s her?” I ask, taking in the tiny little human with wires all over her, lying in a rectangular glass container.
“Yep. Four pounds, one ounce.” She flips to the next picture of her holding Aurora. The woman in the photo is filled with exhaustion, black circles under her eyes, but there’s also a soft smile of happiness there. The next several photos are of Aurora getting older: smiling, laughing, crying. Sitting up, crawling… It’s insane how in only ten months, she’s transformed from an itty-bitty little thing to a crawling, babbling, laughing baby.
“She’s put on some weight,” I say with a laugh when she flips to a picture of Aurora in the bathtub, bubbles covering her lower half and the top half filled with adorable baby rolls. Kendall and Declan’s babies have them too. Declan always jokes, saying they eat too much even though they’re both breastfeeding.
“Did you breastfeed?” I ask. It doesn’t matter either way, but I want to know everything. I hate that I won’t know unless I ask, but I did this to myself.
“I did. She actually recently weaned off, and her pediatrician said since she’s so close to a year old and healthy, she can go straight to milk and regular food. She loves sweet potatoes and carrots and hates anything green.” She laughs, putting her phone away as Aurora crawls over with a cup of some sort in her mouth.
She pulls herself up and hands it to Sadie. “Mamamama.”
“She also loves stacking things and knocking them over,” Sadie says, taking the cup from her daughter and then picking her up. She walks over to where Aurora just was and plops down, setting her in her lap.
I watch as Aurora helps Sadie stack the cups, one on top of each other. When they place the last one, Sadie cheers and claps, and Aurora joins in, just before swinging her fist and knocking them all to the ground. For a second, she stares at them, then she looks up at me and giggles. Fucking giggles. And my heart—my bleeding, battered, blackened heart—comes back to life.
As I’m frozen in place, Aurora grabs a cup, bites down on it, and crawls over to me, stopping just before me and dropping it into my lap.
“She’s sharing with you,” Sadie says softly, snapping me out of it.
“Thank you,” I say awkwardly. Aside from chilling with Felix, Layla and Camden’s six-year-old, I don’t have much experience with kids, especially not with babies. I’m around Declan and Kendall’s twins, but I haven’t interacted with them much. They’re around six months old and just now trying to crawl. They do this weird rocking back and forth thing that makes them look like little turtles trying to take off. It’s kind of hilarious.
“Baba!” Aurora yells when I don’t move.
“She wants you to build the tower,” Sadie explains, a hint of a smile on her face.
“Oh, all right. Sure.” I take the cups from Sadie and start to build the cup tower while Aurora watches with a glint in her eye, silently conveying she’s about to cause destruction. The second I set the last cup on the top, she claps, not stopping until I join in.
I watch as she makes sure I’m clapping and excited before she swipes her hand out and sends the tower to the ground, cups flying every which way. Her eyes meet mine, and she giggles that fucking giggle, and once again, my heart feels as though it’s been resuscitated.
“Baba!” she squeals, grabbing a cup.
“She could do it a million times,” Sadie says, playfully rolling her eyes when I take the cups and start stacking them again. “You don’t have—”
“I’ve missed out on ten months,” I say, not allowing her to finish her thought. “If she wants me to build this tower a hundred times, I’m okay with that.” Our eyes connect, and Sadie nods in understanding.
And that’s how we spend the evening: building towers and knocking them over until Aurora is hungry and starts to whine. Sadie feeds her some baby food while I order us dinner. And once it arrives, Aurora eats some more. She reminds me of an adorable little bird as she opens her mouth, and Sadie feeds her little bits of her food. As I watch the two of them sitting across from me, for the first time in years, my heart feels so damn full. Wanting to take a few photos of my daughter, I pull my phone out and snap a few pictures of them eating and laughing.