It Started in June

by Susan Kietzman

  CHAPTER 35

  It was just the three of them now. They were back in Grace’s hospital room—Grace, in bed, holding the baby, and Bradley sitting in a chair pulled up as close as possible to still leave room for his legs. And even though Grace had no roommate, she had asked Bradley to pull closed the curtain surrounding the bed. This room within a room would not keep away the nurses and their continual quest for vitals, or her doctor and pediatrician, with their stethoscopes and laptops, but it would dissuade anyone else from disturbing this moment in time. Gone was the noisy, frenetic atmosphere of the delivery room, with its bright lights, pop music, and urgent pleas to PUSH! Gone was the painful, violent sensation of expelling a seven-pound human being from the body, and the compression of her abdomen afterward to force the exit of her placenta. That, she had just explained to Bradley, had been almost as excruciating as the birth. “Why doesn’t anyone complain about that? Everyone you meet on the street is happy to tell you their horrific labor stories, but nobody talks about the placenta?”

  Bradley stood, hovering over her, and said, “Look at you, lying here with our baby. You did it, Grace. You made it through.” He bent down to kiss her forehead. “And not only did you make it through, you were a champion.”

  Grace laughed. “I don’t know about that.” But he had pinpointed exactly how she felt, in the afterglow of birthing a child, like someone who could do anything asked of her. Work challenges, life issues, difficult conversations, anything that had ever taxed her intellectual or emotional capabilities seemed inconsequential when compared with the feat she had just accomplished. And, she felt an instant solidarity with every woman who had gone through this before her, with all mothers, even her own.

  “I am so proud of you,” said Bradley. “I don’t know what I expected, but it was not this. It was not what happened in that delivery room. You were stretched to your absolute limit, Grace, and you persevered. You never gave up.”

  “I’m not sure I had much choice in the matter.”

  He laughed. “Well, I realize that, but you were so damn good at it.” He was soothing her damp hair away from her forehead. “And you never said a mean word, to me or to anyone else. You hear those stories, right? The stories about the women who scream at the husbands, who banish them from the room or from ever touching them again. God, those videos are all over the Internet.” Grace smiled at him. “They are definitely funny,” he said, “but they also let you know that the dad has some serious ass-kissing in his future.”

  Grace laughed. “I prefer lip kissing.”

  Bradley kissed her lips, twice. And then he kissed Hope’s forehead. “And look what you made, Grace. She’s perfect.”

  “What we made,” said Grace. “You helped.”

  “Yeah, with the fun part,” said Bradley, smiling at her. “You did all the work.”

  “I’m not sure I could have done it without your support.”

  “You most definitely could have done it without my support,” said Bradley. “But you are nice to give me credit. In reality, you did it all.”

  Grace raised Hope, wrapped tightly in a pink and blue blanket, closer to her face and inhaled deeply. “She smells so sweet.”

  Bradley smiled again and said, “She did not smell sweet in that delivery room.”

  “I doubt anything smelled sweet in there.”

  Bradley laughed and then looked at the baby. “Can I hold her?”

  “Oh! Of course you can.” Grace held her out to him. “She’s wrapped up pretty well, but you still want to support her neck.” Bradley accepted her into his arms. “Got her?” Grace asked before releasing her fingers from the receiving blanket. “Sit with her. It might be easier for you.”

  “I remember,” said Bradley, sitting with his daughter. “Remember the doll with the broken neck we passed around in our child prep classes? She was fresh off the set of a horror movie, with her bald head and glass eyes.” Grace laughed. Bradley hugged Hope to his chest. “She’s so light—and warm, like a pot roast.”

  Grace smiled at Bradley. “She is nothing like a pot roast.”

  “You know I’m kidding you. She is beauty in baby form. She looks just like you.”

  “Do you think so?”

  “I do,” said Bradley, lifting Hope with outstretched arms until she was in front of his face so he could study hers. “Plus, she has your calm, confident demeanor. I can see this already.”

  “I hope she’s calm. Tomorrow we’ll be taking her home. How are you feeling about that?”

  Bradley returned the baby to his chest. “I feel great,” he said, looking at Grace. “I feel great about being with you and about being a father.” Grace could hear the tremor in his voice. “I love you, Grace. And I love her.”

  Grace’s lower eyelids pooled with water. “You’ve never said that.”

  “I know. But I feel it. Right here, right now, I feel it more than I feel anything.”

  “Me too.”

  “I think we can do this, Grace. I think we can be together and be good parents to Hope. We had an unconventional start, but I think we can do this.”

  Grace nodded. Bradley had coached her through the delivery of their daughter, and he was sitting here now, telling her he loved her. Grace didn’t doubt that he truly did love her, at this time and in this place. What she didn’t know was whether it would last. She didn’t know why her skepticism lingered, but it did. Was it her trust issues? Was it because they were still getting to know each other? Was it Bradley’s young age? She kept all of this to herself, as airing it would crush both of them right now. On this birthday of her daughter, Grace decided she would believe in love. “I do, too.”

  CHAPTER 36

  Grace, Hope, and Bradley were home for just two days before Dorrie and Bruce flew into Hartford. Bradley, who had called his parents when Hope was born and checked the timing with Grace when Dorrie wondered how quickly they could see their granddaughter, met them in the reception area of the same inn they had stayed in over Christmas. After Dorrie pulled Bradley in for a long hug, she held him at arms’ length and said, “You’ve cut your hair. I like it.”

  “It was Grace’s idea. She thinks shorter hair makes me look more professional—and even more handsome.”

  “Who knew that was possible?” asked his mother. And then she laughed.

  “And how is our little angel doing?” asked Bruce.

  “Up all day and up all night,” said Bradley, yawning.

  “Twelve weeks,” said Bruce, clapping his hand on Bradley’s shoulder. “Most babies are sleeping through the night at twelve weeks.”

  “Except for those who don’t,” said Dorrie. “How’s Grace?”

  “Wonder Woman? She’s amazing.”

  “I can’t wait another second to see them both,” she said, buttoning her coat. “Let’s get going.”

  On the way from the inn to the house, Dorrie asked Bradley to give them a quick synopsis of the birth and of their first days together. And so he told them about Grace’s superb performance in the delivery room. He told them about Grace’s decision to breastfeed—and that she would pump a bottle each day so Bradley could feed Hope in the middle of the night.

  “She is a smart one, that Grace,” said Bruce.

  Bradley pulled into the driveway, telling his parents about the cards and gifts from their work colleagues and friends, and about the delicious spaghetti casserole Grace’s friend Shannon had brought over when she came for a visit and introduction to Hope on the day they arrived home from the hospital. As they got out of the car, Dorrie offered to make dinner for everyone that night. “I’ll just run out to the store later for what I need.”

  They walked into the house to find Grace and Hope on the couch, engaged in a feeding session. “She’s almost done,” said Grace, in an apologetic tone.

  Dorrie walked to the couch, leaned in, and kissed Grace’s cheek. “No rush,” she said, shedding her coat and draping it over a chair before settling in on the couch next to Grace. “How
are you doing?”

  “We’re fine,” said Grace. “She seems to have her clock turned around though.” Grace looked at Bruce, who was standing just outside the seating area, his coat taken by Bradley to the closet, his hands in his pants pockets.

  “She’s in good company,” he said. “Try to keep her awake and active during the day. Expose her to lights and sounds. Run the vacuum and the dishwasher. And try to make the nighttime soothing and quiet. Be patient, though. It will take a little while.”

  Hope had dozed off and detached from Grace’s breast. Grace tucked herself back into her shirt. Bruce took a couple steps toward Grace and held out his arms. “Can I have a look?”

  “Oh, there’s plenty of time for that,” said Dorrie, reaching for the baby, for her granddaughter. “Can I hold her first?”

  “Of course,” said Grace, depositing Hope into her boyfriend’s mother’s arms. Hope awakened during the handoff.

  “Look at my little darling,” Dorrie cooed at the baby. “Isn’t she beautiful? Bradley, she has your eyes, I think. Do you think so, Grace? Do you think she has Bradley’s eyes? And she definitely has your nose and mouth, Grace. She’s just darling.”

  Grace smiled at Dorrie. “I think she does have Bradley’s eyes. If not the color just yet, then definitely the twinkle.”

  “She is precious,” said Dorrie, making fishlike kissing sounds with her mouth. “How long can you stay home with her, Bradley?”

  “I’ve got two weeks of paternity leave,” said Bradley, heading into the kitchen with the empty mug he had left on the side table. “Anyone for coffee?”

  “I’d love some,” said Dorrie. “That’s a generous leave, Bradley.”

  “Yes, it is. I was planning on using my vacation time, but now, obviously, I don’t have to. And Grace has four months.”

  “Wow!” said Dorrie, turning her attention back to Grace. “That’s unheard of—at least in this country.”

  “While I don’t always agree with everything my superiors say or do, they are definitely progressive when it comes to employee benefits. And I am very appreciative,” said Grace.

  “And after that?” asked Dorrie.

  Grace shrugged. “I don’t know. We’ll have to look at that when we get closer.”

  “Of course,” said Dorrie. “Bradley, will you make me one of those fancy lattes?” She looked at her husband and said, “Bruce, we have to get one of these coffee machines. They’re fantastic.”

  “Bradley, I’d love a latte, too,” said Bruce. “If it’s not too much trouble.”

  “No trouble at all,” said Bradley. “Grace?”

  “A decaf,” she said. “Thank you.”

  Bruce looked at his wife and said, “Dorrie, are you just about finished with your initial bonding session?”

  “No,” said Dorrie. “But I will let you hold her nonetheless.” She held the baby out to Bruce, who accepted her onto the crook of his arm; he was seemingly as comfortable as someone nonchalantly carrying a seven-pound bag of groceries. He sat down on the chair next to the couch and looked at Grace before saying, “Mind if I have a look?”

  “Please do,” said Grace.

  Bruce unwrapped Hope. “Her coloring is good,” he said. “All the toes and fingers in place. Good reflexes. Strong abdomen with no sign of hernia. Clear eyes.”

  “What can she see?” asked Grace.

  “Not much at this stage. Right now, she can see best from about here,” said Bruce, transferring Hope from his arm to his hands and holding her about a foot in front of his face. “But she certainly has awareness. She knows who you are and responds to your voice, your smell, and your touch.”

  “Can you move in?” asked Grace.

  Bruce laughed. “Well, you have me for three days. After that, I’m only a phone call away.” He handed Hope back to Grace.

  Bradley brought the coffees to the living room on a tray, and they all sat around Grace and Hope. Dorrie wanted to hear the birth story from start to finish. After telling Grace how brave she was, Dorrie stood and announced that she was going to the store. “How does stir-fry sound for dinner?” she asked.

  “Oh, you don’t have to do that,” said Grace. “I was going to throw together some pasta with vodka sauce and a salad.”

  “Nonsense,” said Dorrie, putting on her coat. “You need to rest. Maybe Hope will go back to sleep, so that you can get a nap, too. Bradley, you don’t mind if I drive your car, do you?” Bradley responded by pulling his car keys out of his pocket and handing them to his mother.

  Grace leaned back on the couch cushions. “I’d love to take a nap. Even twenty minutes makes a big difference.”

  “Maybe I can take her for a walk?” offered Bradley, looking at his dad.

  Grace looked at Bruce, too. “We haven’t been out of the house since we came home. It is okay for her to go out?”

  “Sure,” said Bruce. “The snow has stopped. It’s a nice day out there. We’ll need to bundle her up a little bit.”

  “I can try the new chest carrier Shannon gave us,” said Bradley. “Dad and I can take her for a walk on the beach.”

  Grace smiled at Bradley. He had been an earnest, devoted father for four days now. “I’d love that, Bradley. I really could use some sleep.”

  “I’m off,” said Dorrie, jingling the keys on her way to the door. “Get some rest now, Grace.”

  Bradley retrieved the carrier and an infant sleeping bag from the spare bedroom that Grace had transformed into a nursery. He put on his lightweight coat, slipped the straps of the carrier over his arms, and then asked his dad to adjust the length, so that Hope’s head would rest where Bradley could keep an eye on her. Grace put Hope into the bag and then handed her to Bradley, who eased her into the carrier. He reached into the coat pockets for his hat and gloves. “I think this is good,” he said. “The only danger I foresee is me overheating.” He smiled at Grace. “Ready, Dad?”

  Bruce took his coat from the chair. “Let’s go.”

  “Call me if you need anything,” said Bradley. “We’ll try to give you at least thirty minutes of shut-eye.”

  As soon as they were gone, Grace stretched out on the couch. She was asleep before Bradley and Bruce set foot on the beach.

  * * *

  It was low tide, so they walked on the hard sand at the water’s edge. Unlike Dorrie, Bruce and Bradley were both comfortable with silence. So, they just walked for a while, breathing in the cool salty air, listening to the waves push onto the shore, scanning the horizon for birds or fishing boats. Bradley, who had been running on the beach all winter, was continuously impressed by its beauty and its power to bring him peace and a sense of well-being.

  Finally, Bruce said, “So, how are you doing?”

  “It’s been four days, Dad.”

  “Four days of fatherhood is a lot when you’ve never been a father before.”

  “It’s good, I guess. I mean, it’s still weird. But I’m trying to be super helpful because Grace went through so much. This is so much more on her than it is on me.”

  “It is,” said Bruce. “But I’m sure you already know that there are a lot of ways to help. You and I have never really talked much about cooking. I’ve been a poor example in that regard, I’m afraid.”

  “I’m a huge fan of takeout, but I can do the basics. I’m learning from Grace, too.”

  “Good,” said Bruce. “Because the household stuff is what she needs a break from. She needs and wants to be with the baby. So, if you can do the grocery shopping, some cooking, a little bit of cleaning here and there, you’re going to make her life easier.”

  “I understand.”

  “Remember that you are home for just two weeks, and then you will be back into the world and living your life much like you’ve always lived it. Grace, on the other hand, will be home alone with an infant. She will no longer be able to get satisfaction from her job. It’s not unusual for women, especially those who work outside the house, to get the blues after they’ve had a baby.�
�

  “Really? She seems so blissful right now.”

  “I think she is,” said Bruce. “And she may always be. But stay tuned in, Bradley.”

  “I will, Dad.”

  “Good.” They reached the jetty and turned around. “How’s your little girl doing?”

  Bradley looked down at Hope. “I think she’s sleeping.” They walked a bit farther. “It seems so funny to think that I have a little girl.”

  “Yes, you do.”

  “Because it’s been only four days, it doesn’t feel real to me yet. It’s like we’re playing house or babysitting.”

  “Well, yes, it’s real and surreal at the same time.”

  “Exactly,” said Bradley. “I don’t think I have my head wrapped around it yet. How long does it take to sink in?”

  “A while,” said Bruce. “But it’s easier to digest one day at a time rather than in its entirety.”

  “That’s good advice,” said Bradley. “I’ve been thinking too much about the big picture. It can be overwhelming, Dad. I was comfortable enough with Grace being pregnant, but I wasn’t prepared for the baby to actually come out of her.”

  Bruce smiled at his son and wrapped his arm around Bradley’s shoulder. “Nobody is, Bradley. You can paint the nursery and buy the car seat and clean the house and pack the suitcase you will not need for the very short hospital stay. But you are never really prepared for parenthood until it is thrust upon you.”

  “That’s how I feel,” said Bradley. “Unprepared.”

  “Yup,” said Bruce. “But do you also feel happy?”

  Bradley took a few steps before answering. “Yes,” he said. “I do.”

  CHAPTER 37

  The next day, Bradley told Grace he would babysit for Hope while she got out for some fresh air. “The walk my dad and I took yesterday was just what I needed to clear my head. I think it would be really good for you, too.”