I feel movement and then cold air hits my legs. I keep my eyes on Ash, my breathing controlled and my hand clamped in his. When I feel someone take my other hand in theirs, I break my connection to Asher and look over at Maddox’s grim face. He gives me a weak smile and a small squeeze. I feel another contraction starting, so I whip my head back to Asher and grunt through the pain.
“Don’t you dare look any lower than her face,” Asher warns Maddox.
I would laugh if I didn’t feel like I was being sawed in half.
I vaguely feel my panties being removed and my eyes widen in shock.
“It’s okay, Sunshine. Let Sway do what they tell him to. We need to check and see if you’re crowning. Jesus, I can’t believe this is happening here.” His eyes show his vulnerability in the moment, and I don’t have time to analyze his words because just on the heels of the last one, another powerful pain takes my abdomen prisoner. I scream when it becomes too much.
“Uh, Asher.”
He looks down when Sway calls his name and his eyes widen so large that I briefly wonder if they will pop out.
He looks back at me, his eyes showing his worry. “You need to push now. I’m right here and everything is going to be okay. I promise you that.”
I gulp and take a deep breath, remembering from the classes we took what I should be doing.
It takes more effort than I ever thought was possible. I scream, curse, and beg. It takes ten long minutes, my body starting to take the toll of the effort I’m using to push our son out. To give him life.
I just finish another push that makes me feel like my head is about to blow off my body. The pain felt different—more intense—than what had been seizing my insides. I give another push, my energy starting to drain quickly.
“No more! Stop! Oh, God!”
I stop immediately when Sway screams over my groaning. My body is demanding that I push, but I hold back, praying that this will be over soon. Asher’s face has a look of complete euphoria. He’s looking down past my stomach. The tears that are falling from his eyes in rapid succession make me fear that something could be wrong.
“Chelcie, give me one more small push.”
I bear down and do as Sway says. The emptiness that follows terrifies me for a second.
And then I hear it.
The most powerful lungs I’ve ever heard pierce through the room.
Asher leans down, his forehead once again hitting mine. Our tears dance together. I hear the EMT rush into the room, but I don’t move. They call out orders, and Asher leans up. I look down and see Sway still kneeling between my spread legs. He’s holding a small bundle wrapped in what I recognize as Asher’s shirt. He hands him over to the man waiting to make sure he’s okay and looks up to meet my eyes. I’ve never seen Sway this overcome with emotion. His tears are falling just as fast as ours are.
“He’s beautiful,” he croaks.
He moves out of the way and lets the professionals do their jobs. It takes a few minutes before I watch as one of the men walk around and hand the small bundle—now wrapped in a clean blanket—to Asher. He lets out a breath, tracing our son’s round cheek with his finger.
I silently soak up this moment between father and son. My body heaves with the effort to keep my sobs in.
I observe in awe as Asher brings our tiny son’s face close and gently lowers his forehead to Zac’s. “I’ll love him so much, little brother,” he whispers. I watch through my clouded tears as Asher gives Zac a kiss on the top of his head, looks over to the far wall, and smiles sadly before he leans down and hands me our son.
When I look at his tiny face for the first time, I feel a love so powerful that it’s like my heart just jump-started to full throttle.
“He’s perfect,” I gasp.
His fuzzy head of hair, plump, tiny lips and round cheeks—all features that mirror his father. He looks just like Coop, and I can’t help but smile at the thought.
“Full circle, brother.”
I forgot that Maddox is there until he spoke.
It takes me a second to understand, but then I remember Asher’s earlier comment. I lean forward slightly and peer over Maddox’s shoulder to see the portrait of Coop hanging proudly.
His smiling face looks down on us, showering us with the happiness he always carried.
And that’s when it hits me—the enormity of what Maddox just spoke. We lost Coop in this very spot not even a year ago, and here we are now—Coop’s son being born right where he was lost to us forever.
“Full circle,” I murmur, stroking Zac’s cheek.
***
Later that night, with the room full of our family, we finally tell them Zac’s full name. There isn’t a single person who isn’t crying after that. I just know that, when Zac grows up, he will be a man strong enough to carry his name.
Zachariah Asher Cooper.
Our perfect son. And the proof that there really is a higher power at play. There is no doubt in my mind that Coop was with us today. That he watched over as his son was born and his brother became a father.
Life coming full circle.
The End
“Don’t you dare look any lower than her face,” Asher warns Maddox.
I would laugh if I didn’t feel like I was being sawed in half.
I vaguely feel my panties being removed and my eyes widen in shock.
“It’s okay, Sunshine. Let Sway do what they tell him to. We need to check and see if you’re crowning. Jesus, I can’t believe this is happening here.” His eyes show his vulnerability in the moment, and I don’t have time to analyze his words because just on the heels of the last one, another powerful pain takes my abdomen prisoner. I scream when it becomes too much.
“Uh, Asher.”
He looks down when Sway calls his name and his eyes widen so large that I briefly wonder if they will pop out.
He looks back at me, his eyes showing his worry. “You need to push now. I’m right here and everything is going to be okay. I promise you that.”
I gulp and take a deep breath, remembering from the classes we took what I should be doing.
It takes more effort than I ever thought was possible. I scream, curse, and beg. It takes ten long minutes, my body starting to take the toll of the effort I’m using to push our son out. To give him life.
I just finish another push that makes me feel like my head is about to blow off my body. The pain felt different—more intense—than what had been seizing my insides. I give another push, my energy starting to drain quickly.
“No more! Stop! Oh, God!”
I stop immediately when Sway screams over my groaning. My body is demanding that I push, but I hold back, praying that this will be over soon. Asher’s face has a look of complete euphoria. He’s looking down past my stomach. The tears that are falling from his eyes in rapid succession make me fear that something could be wrong.
“Chelcie, give me one more small push.”
I bear down and do as Sway says. The emptiness that follows terrifies me for a second.
And then I hear it.
The most powerful lungs I’ve ever heard pierce through the room.
Asher leans down, his forehead once again hitting mine. Our tears dance together. I hear the EMT rush into the room, but I don’t move. They call out orders, and Asher leans up. I look down and see Sway still kneeling between my spread legs. He’s holding a small bundle wrapped in what I recognize as Asher’s shirt. He hands him over to the man waiting to make sure he’s okay and looks up to meet my eyes. I’ve never seen Sway this overcome with emotion. His tears are falling just as fast as ours are.
“He’s beautiful,” he croaks.
He moves out of the way and lets the professionals do their jobs. It takes a few minutes before I watch as one of the men walk around and hand the small bundle—now wrapped in a clean blanket—to Asher. He lets out a breath, tracing our son’s round cheek with his finger.
I silently soak up this moment between father and son. My body heaves with the effort to keep my sobs in.
I observe in awe as Asher brings our tiny son’s face close and gently lowers his forehead to Zac’s. “I’ll love him so much, little brother,” he whispers. I watch through my clouded tears as Asher gives Zac a kiss on the top of his head, looks over to the far wall, and smiles sadly before he leans down and hands me our son.
When I look at his tiny face for the first time, I feel a love so powerful that it’s like my heart just jump-started to full throttle.
“He’s perfect,” I gasp.
His fuzzy head of hair, plump, tiny lips and round cheeks—all features that mirror his father. He looks just like Coop, and I can’t help but smile at the thought.
“Full circle, brother.”
I forgot that Maddox is there until he spoke.
It takes me a second to understand, but then I remember Asher’s earlier comment. I lean forward slightly and peer over Maddox’s shoulder to see the portrait of Coop hanging proudly.
His smiling face looks down on us, showering us with the happiness he always carried.
And that’s when it hits me—the enormity of what Maddox just spoke. We lost Coop in this very spot not even a year ago, and here we are now—Coop’s son being born right where he was lost to us forever.
“Full circle,” I murmur, stroking Zac’s cheek.
***
Later that night, with the room full of our family, we finally tell them Zac’s full name. There isn’t a single person who isn’t crying after that. I just know that, when Zac grows up, he will be a man strong enough to carry his name.
Zachariah Asher Cooper.
Our perfect son. And the proof that there really is a higher power at play. There is no doubt in my mind that Coop was with us today. That he watched over as his son was born and his brother became a father.
Life coming full circle.
The End
