Chapter Text
“Careful, love, you don’t want to wake her.”
“I’m not going to wake her,” Curt said quietly, gently lifting their daughter’s carrier out of the car. He balanced it with focus, trying not to jostle her too much.
Their daughter.
Elizabeth Belle Carvour-Mega had been welcomed into the world on March 15th. She was only a few days old and already absolutely perfect in every single way.
He and Owen had thought long and hard about their decision to have a child, and the debate didn’t end when they finally decided that they wanted to pursue parenthood. Did they go with adoption or surrogacy?
It had taken a really long time. Half their marriage, actually. But eventually, they settled on having a surrogate carry a child for them, with Owen as the biological father- at Curt’s insistence.
And so here she was.
She was smaller than Curt was expecting. He was afraid he’d break her.
Owen guided him to the nursery, making sure he didn’t bump into anything on the way in. They’d spared no expense at making her room the best it could be; they’d painted it a soft pastel pink, gotten her the finest crib money could buy, there was even a hand carved rocking chair in the corner waiting for her.
Curt gently placed the carrier down on the ground, and quickly unbuckled Elizabeth before pulling her into his arms. She was so delicate.
Elizabeth wiggled in his arms, sucking on the binkie that the hospital had given her as she tried to stretch.
Instinctively, Curt cradled her gently, bouncing her. He made soft shushing sounds as he attempted to soothe her. “It’s okay, pumpkin,” He cooed, “Daddy’s got you.”
Owen guided Curt to the rocking chair, and hovered over his shoulder as Curt began to rock their daughter back and forth. “She’s perfect,” He breathed.
Curt couldn’t tear his eyes away from her. “I know.”