Page 53 of Reclaimed Dreams

Jo turned and buried her face in his shoulder before letting her sobs escape.

“I’m sorry! I’m so sorry, Dom.”

“Babe, no. You didn’t do anything wrong. There’s nothing to apologize for.”

“I lost our baby.”

“No.” He took her by the shoulders and pushed her away so he could look her square in the eyes. “You did nothing to cause this. It’s okay. It’s going to be okay. We will be okay.”

“What if this is something I can’t do? We’ve always talked about a big family.”

“Then we find another way to have that. We can foster or adopt. We will find children who need a loving home and give them that. I love you, Jo. We’ll figure it out together. All that matters is that we’re in this together. I won’t lose you.”

The fact that she didn’t respond with “I love you, and I’m not going anywhere without you” rattled his composure.

He held her tight in his arms as she poured out her grief. He kept his own tightly bottled up. He was so fucking scared and overwhelmed, but he tucked it down deep for her. She needed him to be strong. Her rock. Her husband in good times and bad, in sickness and in health. He’d promised in front of God and everyone. He just hadn’t expected the test to kick him in the teeth.

But he held her close, helped her get cleaned up and into bed, made sure she drank some water before she finally fell asleep. He did all the things he could think of to take care of her and show her his love.

So it was after midnight by the time he sat in the kitchen with his beer, dinner long forgotten, and let his own tears fall.

31 years ago

Four years later, tears streamed down his cheeks again, but there was no beer in sight, just a cathartic release of emotions. Jo was asleep in the hospital bed behind him, after battling for hours. In the quiet now, Dom could let down his guard. He wiped his hands down his cheeks, erasing the telltale tracks before she could see. He didn’t want her to worry.

Leaning back in the vinyl-covered chair, he tried to get some sleep too. He’d been through the wringer today, watching Jo fight to bring their son into the world.

As if thinking of him had been enough to wake him, Dom heard a thin, fussy cry from the bassinet. Crossing the room, he lifted his son and cuddled him. Would he ever get tired of saying that?

My son.

Gabriel.

Little angel.

He was so small that Dom could hold him entirely in his two hands. Such a tiny thing to cause so much trouble. Through three months of bed rest, week after week of morning sickness that transitioned to vicious, sleep-stealing heartburn, and a stubborn heel that found purchase against Jo’s rib, making a full breath hard to find, Dom had felt so helpless. The years of trying and loss had been hard, and followed by a difficult pregnancy; the road to parenthood had been a bumpy one. To be holding his son now broke Dom’s heart wide-open along every scarred fracture line. He was bursting with love.

He loved Jo with his whole heart, had for years. How was it possible to feel so much more love in his chest after just one day?

And with it the weight of responsibility settled over his shoulders like a fifty-pound rucksack. He was now completely responsible for another human. If anything happened to him, he knew Jo was a talented and resourceful adult. She could take care of herself if she ever had to. God willing, he wouldn’t ever have to test his theory, but he didn’t worry about it. This tiny little baby was totally helpless. He would need to be protected and loved and provided for. And Dom vowed that he would not let his son down on that front. He’d do whatever it took to give his son the life he deserved.

He settled in the chair again and tucked Gabe against his chest. The baby settled back down with his head against Dom’s heart and his little legs pulled up against him. When Dom readjusted the hospital blanket to cover him, Gabe kicked his right leg out hard, landing a solid knock between Dom’s ribs, startling a grunt out of him. An athlete already, Dom mused, before realizing that this was what Jo had been feeling from the inside out for months.

“You owe your mama an apology, little man.”

Dom anchored his son against his chest, one hand splayed from his butt to his back, and felt his heart knit back together in this new size and shape. Gabriel would need his mama soon to nurse, so Dom would soak up this snuggle time while he could.

Closing his eyes, he thanked God for bringing his family through this, healthy and whole. Dom vowed to do his best to protect and provide for them, since God had seen fit to give him these angels to hold in his heart.

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