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Phil’s feet hung off the end of the bed. His shoulders were scrunched and sore, his neck stiff, and his right arm had lost all feeling. A tiny hand rested over his heart. The sun streamed in through dinosaur curtains but Phil had no clue what time it was. He had climbed in next to Dorothy just before sunrise. She’d nestled her head against his chest, Phil’s arm wrapping around to hold her close. She had felt a little too warm to the touch and Phil would have stayed whether she asked him to or not. Phil slowly began to move his arm as a first step toward extricating himself. Dorothy stirred and gave a tiny cough. “Daddy, m’thirsty.”
“Oh hey baby. How’s my girl?” He kissed the top of her head then pulled his arm free, lowering her head onto her pillow. He sat on the edge of the bed and rubbed his eyes. “I’ll get you some water.” He stood and stretched his arms over his head. His neck creaked and cracked and his back gave a concerning pop.
“No, Daddy, come back.” Phil’s heart might as well have been in her little hand for the way she squeezed it. “Sweet girl, if I spend anymore time in this bed, I may never tap dance again.”
Dorothy giggled, “You can’t tap dance, Daddy!” Her smile was everything, those dimples would be the death of him.
Phil put his hand over his heart in feigned shock, “How dare you!” Dorothy's musical laughter dissolved into coughs and whimpers and she sniffled. “I don’t feel good when you aren’t here.”
Phil melted. “I’ll tell you what, why don’t we camp out in daddy and papa’s bed today. We can watch the Muppet show and drink tea until you feel better.”
“Can I eat toast on the tray?”
“Of course you can, sweetie.”
Phil wasn’t sure when Dan had arrived in the doorway. “I thought I heard my two favorite people.” He had a cup of water with a straw for Dorothy.
Dan gave a quick kiss to Phil’s cheek and sat next to his daughter, planting a kiss on her forehead and holding the straw to her for a sip. “I hear you’ll be moving in with us today.”
Dorothy nodded her head. “I’m sick so I can have toast on the tray.”
“Is that so? Alright then, let’s let daddy go potty and stuff. Climb on board” He turned his back toward her and gestured with his thumb. She didn’t move. “I can’t climb on, papa, you have to carry me.”
“Oh Dotty, you feel pretty awful, don’t cha’?” Dorothy’s face was flushed and wet with tears from coughing. Dan scooped her up in his arms and she rested her head on his shoulder. Phil watched as his little girl settled into the arms of the love his life. She looked so small against Dan’s broad chest. Gratitude wrapped around Phil like a blanket. Gratitude for the big things, for love and for family, and for the science and generosity that made theirs possible. And gratitude that they could both just be here, right now, without worrying about childcare and sick days. Dan carried Dorothy over and Phil hugged them both.
“You ok, dad?’ Dan looked into Phil’s wet eyes.
“Oh yeah,” Phil wiped the moisture away and smiled, “just tired and sappy. I’m gonna brush my teeth, I’ll be right there.”
After brushing his teeth and freshening up a bit, Phil headed for the kitchen but was stopped in his tracks by Dorothy’s voice from the bedroom, ‘Daaaaaddyyyy.” He poked his head into his own room.
“Sweetie, daddy really needs his coffee.”
“I am but a sad substitute for super dad.” Dan’s tone was frustrated but his eyes smiled.”Get cosy, I’ll get your coffee.” He leaned over the bed and booped his little one's nose. “And for you, toast on the tray.”
Phil climbed into bed with his almost 4 year old for the second time today. He opened his laptop and started an episode of the Muppet Show. They always sung along to the theme song but not today. The small amount of giggling they had engaged in had wiped Dorothy out and she sunk in next to Phil. He stroked her forehead, lulling her into half-sleep. Closing his own eyes, he let love and fatherhood wash over him. These moments were becoming less and less frequent. Dotty wasn’t a baby anymore, she’d be off to school before he knew it. The thought caught in his throat and he swallowed the lump. He buried his nose in Dorothy’s soft brown curls and matched his breathing with hers. Her chest rose and fell softly, she was asleep. Phil paused the Muppet show so he could just listen to her.
Dan set Phil’s coffee down on the bedside table and noticing Dorothy was out, set her tray aside. He was a little out of breath, his eyes shining with tears. He looked electric, like one sudden move could send him launching into the atmosphere. Phil opened his mouth to speak but Dan cut him off, “I just got off the phone. It was Alice.” It took a beat for Phil to register the meaning of those words. He sat up straight, letting Dotty settle down into the bed. He held his breath. Dan’s voice was quiet and measured, like he had to carefully control it or he’d end up shouting.
“She’s pregnant, babe. We’re going to be dads. Again!”
Phil gasped, “We’re gonna have another baby? We’re gonna have another baby!” He leapt up and threw his arms around Dan, knocking the wind out of him. They hadn’t allowed themselves to consider that success could be an option. Dorothy had just happened, first try, she was meant to be. It had been a year this time and various setbacks and Phil was convinced it was his fault. The news felt like a miracle. Dan talked into Phil’s neck. “This one’s gonna look like you!” They cried and laughed and kissed in a manic display of joy. A small voice came from the bed, “Papa, why is daddy crying?”
Phil turned and scooched back in to the space next to Dorothy. “We’re both crying, Dot, but they’re happy tears, nothing to worry about. I’m sorry we woke you up.” He pulled the covers up under her chin as Dan walked around the bed and took his place on her other side. They held hands behind Dorothy’s pillow and she curled toward Dan, scrunching into a ball at his side. They were silent for a long while, just being there, the three of them. This too would change much sooner than it seemed now. Phil knew to savor every moment. Everyone said it went by so fast, it was cliché and now he understood why. Memories of Dorothy’s birth drifted in, the best day of Phil’s life.
Their surrogate, Alice, had called to give a head’s up that things were getting started and was surprised and a little annoyed when they showed up at her door before the midwives had even arrived. It was 5 am and they had jumped the gun by nearly 8 hours. Secluded in a guest room, they tried to stay calm and out of everyone’s hair. They had grown to love and trust Alice and they knew they’d get to be there to see their baby come into the world, but they couldn’t relax. Dan paced the room and Phil read and reread through lists on his phone. Baby supplies, feeding schedules, parenting books he’d read and the ones he needed to read. Eventually, they both succumbed to exhaustion and fell asleep despite the adrenaline rush of that morning call. It was a short nap though, a knock on the door woke them both. Dan sprung out of the bed and ran his hand through his hair. Phil could never forget how Dan look that morning, sleepy, terrified, and so brave as he took Phil’s hand and led him down the stairs behind the student midwife. The blinds were closed and the room was lit with candles, the afternoon felt like dusk. It was warm and expectation hung in the air.
Alice was in the big blue inflatable tub on her knees, her head resting on her arms on the edge of the tub. Her doula poured warm water over her back and held a cool cloth to her forehead. The midwives were poised around the edge of the pool and the student plopped down on the floor with her laptop to resume charting. The boys, almost fathers now, froze. They watched in awe. The scene was feminine, powerful, and beautiful, nothing like they had imagined birth to be. They both jumped when a primal sound broke through the silence. Alice roared a deep, guttural moan and the others murmured low sounds of encouragement. One midwife had their gloved arms in the water, nearly to the armpits and another contorted herself to reach Alice’s belly and listen to the baby’s heartbeat, their baby’s heartbeat. The sound sent Phil’s heart into a spin and he let a small sob escape. Dan intertwined their fingers and held tight. The student gestured with her hand to come closer and they cautiously obeyed. They knelt down to hear and the student whispered, “I think we’re close, guys. You wanna get ready for skin to skin? You can grab some chairs if you feel unsure about holding her for the first time.” She smiled sweetly. She was so relaxed about all of this. Phil decided that if she thought they needed to sit down, he wasn’t going to argue. They grabbed two chairs from the dining table and Phil took off his shirt. They had talked about receiving the baby skin to skin and about who would be first. Dan had wanted some time to take it all in before holding her. Phil had wanted this very human moment for him but mostly for their baby girl. She should come into the world and feel her parents warmth right away.
There was a rhythm of primal groans, then silence. It repeated on loop a few more times and each time the knot in Phil stomach tightened. Alice’s breath quickened and she let out a sharp cry. Dan gripped his hand so tight, his fingers ached but Phil didn’t dare pull away. They didn’t look, out of respect and fear but both of them wished they knew what was happening. Alice sat up, leaning back on her heels. One midwife had passed the baby between her legs and the second was helping her bring baby up out of the water. The baby let out a lusty cry as helping hands listened careful with a tiny stethoscope.
Alice held the baby up and examined her face. “Hello, you.” She didn’t bring her closer but looked back over her shoulder at Dan and Phil, “She’s here, guys.” She smiled. Phil couldn’t believe her strength, he had never felt more inspired by anyone. The midwife readied her tools and held her scissors out to the boys. “Who’s cutting the cord?”
The both said in unison, “You are.”
She chuckled and took care of it, then turned with the baby in her arms to hand her over. Phil trembled, he couldn’t move. He sat there, shirtless, hands at his sides. Dan reached out and took their child in his arms. “Hello, Dorothy. I’m your papa.” He turned and placed her belly to belly, on Phil. Warm blankets came out of nowhere to cover them. “And this is your daddy.”
Dorothy’s cries turned to sighs as she warmed against her dad, hearing his heartbeat through his chest. Phil's hands flew up to hold her tight. “Don’t take your hands off her, Dan.” He was indescribably happy but he also felt anxiety and worry at a level he didn’t quite understand.
“I won’t Phil, I won’t let go.”
Phil came back to the present and wiped his cheeks. Dan had drifted off to sleep, curled up with Dorothy. Phil looked at them and thought about how incredible it is that his whole world fits right in this bed. Then he remembered, this isn’t his whole world. There’s one more tiny piece, growing, on the other side of London. This time next year, they’d be settled in, a family of four, and they’ll barely be able to remember having it any other way.