Aced

The soft suction of his mouth on my breast is strangely the most comforting feeling I’ve ever experienced. Almost as if my body knows this was meant to be. And as I look down at him it hits me that this little being depends on Colton and me for absolutely everything. It’s a humbling and overwhelming feeling, but one that warms me completely.

“Are you two going to catch any sleep?” the nurse asks as she checks my vitals yet again on what feels like the ever-constant rotation through our room. And it always seems like the interruption is immediately after I fall asleep.

“We’re trying to,” I murmur softly as I look down at Ace as he eats.

“I know it’s hard with nurses coming in and out constantly but you should consider putting him in the nursery so you can get some sleep.”

“Absolutely not.” Colton’s voice is resolute when he speaks from the recliner in the corner of the room making both the nurse and my head turn to look at him. “There’s a reason Sammy’s sitting outside on a chair. The last thing we need is paparazzi snapping pictures of him, selling it to the highest bidder, and then plastering it all over the place. No. End of discussion.”

I stare at him, eyes blinking over and over as I come to terms with what he’s just said. After the clusterfuck of the past month with the media’s intrusion on our lives, how could I be so ensconced in our little bubble that the thought never crossed my mind? That people will be clamoring to get pictures of Ace to sell and make money from?

“He’s right,” I say, caught off guard as I look at the nurse staring at us like we’re crazy.

“Okay,” she says with a sympathetic smile, “if you change your mind, let me know. We do deal with this fear quite a lot here so I assure you we have safety measures in effect to prevent that from happening. If you end up needing some sleep, just buzz me at the nurses station.”

“Thanks,” Colton says, the muscle in his jaw clenching and unclenching as he stares at her.

She finishes checking my vitals and then reaches to check Ace out since he’s fallen asleep and is no longer latched on. She looks at her temporal thermometer and frowns some. “His body temp is a little cold. It’s normal for a newborn to have trouble keeping their body heat but let’s help him a bit and get him skin on skin with you.” She starts unbundling him and taking his white T-shirt off so I’m left with a tiny ball of pink who’s dwarfed by the white diaper.

I know this is normal but it’s a little different when it’s your baby. She hands Ace to me, lifts down the shoulder of my hospital gown so I can slide Ace inside, and his smooth skin is resting against my bare chest.

“We’ll let him be like this for a bit and see if that helps or else we’ll have to bring a warmer in, okay?”

“Okay,” I say as she collects her things. I don’t even pay attention because the feeling of him against me is all-consuming. He tries to suckle my collarbone and I laugh quietly at the sensation and how very surreal this feels.

When I look up, Colton’s eyes are locked onto the two of us, expression completely stoic. “What are you thinking about?” I ask, knowing damn well it could be a loaded question but needing to ask it nonetheless.

“Nothing. Everything.” He shrugs. “Everything has changed and yet nothing is different. I don’t know how to explain it.”

I nod my head ever so slowly understanding and not understanding what he’s saying and needing so much more of an explanation from him but having a feeling I’m not going to get one. Ace moves and I’m drawn back to watch him for a bit as I fight the exhaustion and the fear of hurting him if I fall asleep while he’s lying on my chest.

“I feel like I’m hogging him,” I murmur, my lips kissing the crown of his head, reveling in that scent of a newborn baby, before looking over to Colton as I scrunch my nose up in an apology.

“No. You’re good,” he says with a gesture to reinforce his words before he leans back in his reclining chair and closes his eyes, effectively changing the subject.

“You sure you don’t want to hold him?”

“No,” he says, eyes still closed. “The nurse said he needs skin to skin with you to help his body temperature.”

“He can be skin to skin with you and get the same thing,” I explain, my tired mind trying to understand how on earth Colton could say no when I don’t feel like I ever want to let him go.

“No. No. I’m okay.” He rejects the idea quickly with eyes still closed and arms crossing over his chest.

He’s afraid of Ace. Big man. Teeny baby. Lack of experience. Fears of inadequacy. The notion flickers and fades through my mind: his history, his staunch refusal, the way he’s seemed busy when I’ve needed him to hold Ace, add validation to my assumption.

I’m scared. Colton’s confession from the ‘I’m game’ float through my mind.

“He needs you too,” I whisper softly, my voice breaking with enough emotion to cause his head to lift so our eyes meet. “Your son needs you too, Colton.”

“I know,” he says with a slow nod of his head. And even though there is guarded trepidation in his eyes, I don’t back down this time from our visual connection. Instead I let my eyes ask him everything I can’t say aloud or push him on further. “You two look so peaceful and perfect together. I just don’t want to disturb you.”

And as much as I know he’s being honest in his response, I also know he’s using it to distract me from delving deeper into his nonchalance.