Page 63 of His Pretty Omega
“Bennett and Naomi are putting clean sheets on the bed. Do you want pajamas, or you still mostly no clothes?”
That woke me up some. “Um, I’m going to need shorts or something. There’s going to be…I’m bleeding…or leaking…there’s just stuff for a few days.”
“Yeah, we already got that squared away, sweetheart,” he told me with a soft chuckle. “You slept through it.”
Glancing down over the still swollen mound of my belly I could just make out the waistband of a pair of soft cotton shorts. “Oh.”
“All set,” Bennett called, smoothing the sheet with his hand.
Alex laid me gently on the freshly made bed, then pulled the flat sheet over my lower half. Naomi brought the baby over and handed her to me.
“Nearly nine pounds, Seth,” she informed us. “She’s a good size for you. Twenty-one inches, and a ten on the Apgar.”
I snuggled the baby close to my chest, relishing the hefty weight of her in my arms. She stared up at me, her blue eyes assessing sleepily, and smacked her perfect pink bow lips.
“She has your eyes,” Alex whispered, running one finger over her fluffy dark hair.
“Most babies have blue eyes when they’re born,” I told him, “I bet hers will turn dark like yours. She has your skin tone.” My arm looked extra pale next to her light brown skin.
Bennett sat down gingerly on the other side of me, and Naomi was speaking quietly on her phone. Likely relaying information of the birth to Finn. I knew he had been on standby should she have needed him, or if I would have had to go to the hospital.
“Does she have a name?” Bennett asked, grinning broadly but looking just as tired as I felt.
Honestly, I didn’t even know what time it was, but looking out the bedroom window I saw night had fallen.
Glancing at Alex, I raised a brow at him, and he nodded.
We hadn’t wanted to find out the sex of the baby at our ultrasound. Both of us agreed we wanted to be surprised.
Agreeing on names had been much more difficult. We had vetoed more than we had put on the maybe list. We had finally narrowed it down to two names for each sex, deciding we would pick the name when we saw the baby.
It was something I had heard many parents say, and honestly, I had always thought it made no sense. You either liked a name for your kid or you didn’t.
But when it had been time for us to choose, to pick a name for a human being to carry the rest of their lives, it had been overwhelming and daunting.
What if we screwed it up? And suddenly, waiting until we saw the baby made absolute sense.
Looking down at the perfect little person in my arms, who, after all the fussing she had done, was now content to stare at us with unfocused eyes, I knew exactly what her name was.
“Isabella Rose Ortega,” I told my bestie.
“Bella,” Alex said, at the same time I said, “Izzy.”
Scowling at him, I repeated firmly, “Izzy.”
“Mocoso Bonito,” he muttered, before giving in. “Izzy.”
“Well, that’s just beautiful,” Bennett told me, snapping a picture of us with his phone and quickly sending it to someone. “Shay said Lucas is refusing to go to bed until he sees proof that his, and I’m quoting here, ‘Baby cousin has finally been born, please Goddess, can it be a girl.’”
Laughing, then wincing at the pain jiggling my stomach caused me, I grinned. “That kid is jonesing for a baby sister.”
Bennett stood, stretching his back. “Tell me about it. So, thanks for having a girl, now I don’t have to.”
“Anytime,” Grinning, I frowned when Izzy began to fuss.
“She’s probably hungry,” Naomi had ended her call and had come back over to the bed. “Do you still want to try nursing?”
Nodding, I told her, “I do. If it doesn’t work out, or it’s not for me, we can go all bottle. But I would like to pump, so that she can at least have my milk, either way.”
