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At least she had gotten it over with. The dread and anxiety ought to disappear, very soon. They were lingering like unwanted guests in Ezri's addled mind.
But it couldn't be that bad.
It had been only 3 months since the end of the War, when Ezri discovered that she was pregnant. Julian had forgotten his injection. He was often forgetful, in spite of (or because of) the solid crystal perfection of his augmented memory. Ezri thought it was strange, how similar it was to what happened to Kasidy. But a coincidence can only come in pairs. An old Trill proverb. It never made much sense to Ezri, but it ended conversations.
It was Julian who had first spoken aloud the possibility of keeping the child. Why not? The War was over. They both felt good about the future. Ezri had felt good about the future, 9 human months ago. Her child was half human, and had grown like one, inside of her, cradled in her body above the Dax. Life was a strange thing.
It was strange. Kasidy had already had her child - did she know what had happened today? Had someone called her? She would want to know. Another task to complete, now that the labor had ended. Julian would take care of it. Or Worf. Or Kira. Or - no, not her mother. Ezri wasn't ready to face her mother. It was best not to think on that, yet. She would save it for when she was stronger. But Kasidy was to be considered a priority. Ezri would say something. She would tell someone to contact Kasidy, later, when she was able to speak. Julian had already sent a message to the O'Briens. It had been the first thing he did. He was so restless, not being allowed to deliver his own child. He had wanted to. They had spoke about it, months ago, and he had very much wanted to. Ezri had refused. Not unkindly. She had laughed at him, with him, at him, together. It was easy, to laugh with him, and to feel good. Ezri didn't feel good, now. She was too tired.
The labor had not been difficult. Audrid Dax had struggled more, when she had Neema. But that had been the happiest day of her life. Of Audrid's life. Ezri wasn't feeling particularly happy. It may not have been so bad, if Ezri hadn't had a basis for comparison. Then her confusion might be her own, and hers alone.
Ezri had thought that she knew what to expect. The Dax had done this often enough. It was never perfect. But it had never felt like this.
How could the same thing have happened to Kasidy? Once is an accident, twice is another accident. No one gets any ideas. Ezri didn't doubt that it had been an accident. Just a happy accident, Julian had said. Of course she believed him. He wouldn't have lied. Or at least, he would never take a lie this far.
It was too late now.
It wasn't too late for anything! This was the beginning, of everything new, and of life. Jadzia had wanted a child so badly. When Julian had cut the Dax out of her body, Jadzia had been thinking of Worf, and of the child that they would never have. Jadzia had wanted it so badly that it broke Julian's heart. But he could never have told her that. It would have been improper. Julian didn't believe in being a sore loser. If he had to be a loser at all. It had been alright, to tell these things to Ezri. Ezri had a will of her own, and made her own decisions. Ezri had chosen Julian. Ezri understood, about Jadzia.
Julian hadn't been the one to kill her, but he had ended her life, with his own hands. Ezri knew that it weighed on him. They had talked about it. It was sorted and labeled and tucked away on a shelf. That has been handled, taken care of, an emotion has been described and understood and shared and processed and now it need never return to the surface of waking thought.
No. She couldn't even pretend that that was true. That was far too absurd.
"Ezri." His voice was real. Ezri opened her eyes.
Julian was sitting by her bedside, holding the child. He wasn't looking at his wife. He was looking at his daughter. There was no smile on his face. His expression was closer to awe. His eyes were so steady and so bright, drawn as they were to the sleeping little girl in his arms. He had wanted this so badly. Now he had it. Nothing had changed about his appearance since the last time she had seen him, but somehow, he looked both very much younger and very much older. Ezri couldn't focus on his face.
"She's beautiful," he said. His movement startled Ezri. It hadn't seemed the natural thing, that he would ever try to move again. It was as if a statue had turned to her in the garden, and told her to mind the daffodils along the verge. She was still very tired. She wasn't well. She would feel better soon.
"So beautiful," said Julian.
Newborn babies are often ugly. This one was, too, but lovely in her ugliness. Her skin was clean and smooth and brown. The blue line of her spots disappeared into a shock of black hair that looked just like the frayed edges of an old silk frock.
"Let's call her Jadzia," said Julian. Ezri laughed, but the sound was so weak that it came out like nothing more than breath. He couldn't be serious. But he was.
"Alright," said Ezri. She could not have refused him anything, in the state she was in. It was what he wanted. It was what they both wanted. Ezri had been a good mother before. She would be a good mother now. She would have to be. She had already made the choice. The choice had already been made.
"Nice to meet you, Jadzia," she said. "It's me, your mother."