Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 107965 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 540(@200wpm)___ 432(@250wpm)___ 360(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107965 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 540(@200wpm)___ 432(@250wpm)___ 360(@300wpm)
“You think you and February can figure out how to make things work?”
I frowned. “We had figured it out. We were going to take baby steps, alternate visiting each other on the weekends. But how the hell am I going to go to New York with a kid? How do you drive ten hours in a baby sling?”
My brother snickered. “You don’t, asshole. You put him in an infant carrier and strap it down in the backseat.”
“An infant carrier? You mean a car seat?”
“No, I mean an infant carrier.”
“What’s the difference?”
“They’re sort of the same, except a baby goes in an infant carrier and a toddler goes in a car seat. A kid needs to be a certain size to move into the type where they sit up. I think it’s like thirty pounds and thirty inches or some shit like that.”
“Jesus Christ, I didn’t buy an infant carrier. I bought a damn car seat.”
“There’s a Target down the block from the roofing supply place. We can stop and pick one up, if you want.”
“What the hell else don’t I have that I need? I don’t have a clue how to take care of a baby.”
“Relax.” My brother patted my shoulder. “Everyone feels that way when they bring their first kid home from the hospital. Doesn’t matter if you had nine months to prepare or nine days. You always feel unprepared. But you’ll do fine.”
I felt like I was unraveling. “I don’t have anyone to cover me at the bar or at work, and I need to take a CPR class and learn to swaddle—whatever the hell that means—and I’ve watched a dozen YouTube videos on changing diapers and still couldn’t figure out what type to get when I went to the store. I feel like I’m running out of time and don’t even know what to prioritize anymore.”
“The kid,” Elvin said pointedly. “That’s what you’re going to prioritize for the rest of your life. Once that baby is in your arms, your decisions actually become easier, because nothing else seems important, other than keeping him safe and happy. Being a parent means your child trumps everything. If the ship goes down, that’s who you’re saving. If you only have enough money for food for one, you’re going hungry.” My brother snort-laughed. “When you’re about to dip inside your woman after weeks of being turned down because she’s exhausted and then that baby cries—you’re taking care of the kid and coming back to a snoring wife and jerking off in the shower the next day. Again. That kid sets the priorities from the moment it arrives.”
“Sounds like that last part is personal experience...”
“You have no damn idea, brother.”
A few minutes later, we pulled up at the roofing store. Elvin unclicked his seatbelt but didn’t reach for the door handle. “Listen, I know you’re crazy about this February. Nevertheless, the bottom line is that you can love her all you want, but she’s going to have to bend more than you now if you have any shot of making things work. She’s going to need to love that baby so much that she makes him a priority too.”
I felt more deflated than ever. February didn’t even want kids, so how far could I expect her to bend before she broke?
***
An hour later, we were almost back at my jobsite with more than a ton of roofing shingles when my phone rang. I didn’t recognize the number, but I knew the area code—Boston. My pulse picked up as I reached for the panel on my dashboard and pushed the button to answer on speakerphone.
“Hello?”
“Hi, Brock. It’s Nina.”
“Is everything okay? Are you in labor?”
“No. I’m not in labor. And the baby and I are okay, but I am in the hospital.”
Shit. “What happened?”
“I had a little spotting, so I went to the doctor for a checkup. He did an ultrasound, and it turns out I have placenta previa.”
“What’s that?”
“It’s a condition where the placenta is low in the uterus and partially or fully covers the cervix opening. The baby is fine, but it means I’m at a risk of severe bleeding if I deliver vaginally.”
I raked a hand through my hair. “Jesus Christ. Can they give you medicine for it, or fix it somehow?”
“No, but sometimes it corrects itself. As the uterus expands, it can naturally push the placenta back up. If it doesn’t, I’ll probably need a C-section. But they’re going to keep me in the hospital for a day or two, to monitor things and keep an eye on the bleeding.”
“Damn, I’m sorry. Is someone there with you?”
“My sister Kelly dropped me off. She had to go to work. But I’m fine. They have me on bedrest, which makes me miserable, so I’m not the greatest company anyway.”
I was quiet for a few heartbeats. “Okay. Is there anything I can do?”