Page 69 of Bred By the Minotaur
He strokes my hair. “It’ll be over soon.”
I know he’s wrong, but he’ll learn.
Hank
Watching Phoebe go through labor and give birth to our second son is definitely the worst experience I’ve had, and I’m not even the one doing the hard work.
Bringing a new life into the world? Check. Watching your wife scream and moan in pain? No thanks.
I feel like Phoebe spends more time assuring me that she’s fine than I spend comforting her. She just asks to hold my hand while she pushes, and her eyes screw up tight as she lets out a scream.
And then, after what feels like eons of pain, our wailing infant enters the world.
He’s smaller than I remember Milo being, with many more brown splotches than white, more like my mother. The nurse brings him to us, and Phoebe is gasping as the woman teaches her how to latch.
“I’ve never done this part before,” Phoebe says in wonder as our calf’s lips wrap around her nipple. The crying abruptly stops, and soon he settles into her arms, his eyes still closed.
I wonder if they’ll be blue or brown.
We whisper in quiet voices about names, eventually settling on Archie.
“Archie and Milo,” Phoebe says, petting some of Archie’s soft fur. “They could be their own team.”
“Maybe in tennis.”
I get up to bring in Milo and my mother, and Milo has clearly been told to behave himself because he moves slowly and talks quietly as he slips into the room.
“Hi, Mom,” he says, walking up to the hospital bed. He simply started calling her this about a month ago, and Phoebe only smiled when he did it. “Wow. The baby’s so small.”
“That’s right.” Her voice is sleepy but pleased. “He’s just little for now. But he’ll get big like you.”
“Cool.” Milo pets Archie’s tiny hoof. “Get big soon, okay? So we can play.”
I’m grateful to have them home again the next day, and now that I’m on my feet again, I can finally help out. But poor Phoebe. This birth wasn’t quite as easy as her last one. As tiny as Archie looks, he wasn’t tiny coming out, and she has hell to pay for it.
I think we’ll stop at two of them. I can’t watch her go through that again.
DreamTogether was not pleased that we had connected—and gotten married—while under contract. Deciding we both broke the agreement, they barred Phoebe from working for them again. Not that she planned to.
They still gave her the final payment, though, so I can’t be that mad about it.
Unlike Milo when he was a baby, Archie is a crier, keeping us up late at night. All it takes, though, is hearing his squeal of laughter as his brother makes a peek-a-boo face, and I remember why I did this. Sometimes I stand in the doorway to the nursery, simply watching while Phoebe holds Archie in her arms, nursing him. Her eyes rise to mine and she smiles a whole, big, pure smile, like she has everything she ever wanted.
Milo is obsessed with his brother, so excited for him to grow up. He attempts to feed Archie, but after getting covered in sweet potato goo, he decides it isn’t for him.
It’s wonderful having Sandra around, who likes to simply hold the baby in her lap while the rest of us busy about. Archie always calms down with her, like she cast a magic spell. She’s knitted him plenty of adorable little outfits. And I’m grateful every day for my mother, who slides in to take over with the kids when we need a break.
Unfortunately, I do have to go back to work after a few months of being home with my wife and kids. But I’m looking forward to it, to helping people and trying to save lives again.
Even though my schedule allows me to be up at night to take care of Archie, by the time he’s eight months old, we’ve both been run ragged. He’s finally nearing the end of the worst of it—hopefully, knock on wood—and the nights are getting better.
“Hello, Hank?”
Mom startles me out of a daze. I’m at the kitchen counter with a giant half-eaten carrot in one hand, simply staring at the wall.
“Wow,” she says, studying me. “Guess this couldn’t come soon enough.”
I blink away sleep. “What couldn’t?”
