world we created, paul lahote

FORTY-ONE

Tears flowed freely down Lucia's flushed cheeks as another wave of pain wracked her body. Even through the haze of agony, she could feel Paul's gentle touch, brushing her hair aside with care. His other hand was gripped firmly in her own, though she knew not how much strength remained in her fingers.

"You're doing so well, my love," Paul murmured, his soothing voice a balm in the storm of her torment. "The doctor says you're nearly there. Just a few more pushes."

Lucia's voice was barely more than a hoarse whisper as she spoke to Paul. "I just want to go home," she breathed tiredly. All of her remaining strength seemed to have been poured into those final pushes.

Paul smiled down at her gently through happy tears. "I know, my love. And we will," he promised, lifting her hand to press a kiss to her knuckles. "As soon as our little one is ready too."

As if on cue, the doctor peered between Lucia's legs once more. "I see the head. Next contraction I need a big push."

Lucia groaned softly, fear and fatigue swirling in her eyes. But she gave a resolute nod. She had come this far - a few more moments and it would all be over. Paul squeezed her hand reassuringly, murmuring soft encouragement as the telltale tightening began once more in her abdomen.

With a sob, Lucia bore down with her last ounce of strength. A scream split the air, closely followed by a rush of release and an even louder cry as their child was birthed into the waiting hands of the doctor.

Upon inspecting the squalling newborn, a smile broke out on the doctor's face. "It's a boy," he declared, eliciting a surprised but overjoyed laugh from Paul.

He glanced down at Lucia, noticing despite her exhaustion, her eyes were bright with profound love and wonder. Paul leaned down to press a tender kiss to her temple. "You hear that, my love? He's here."

The doctor extended a pair of scissors to Paul. "Father, will you do the honours?"

Paul took a steadying breath and nodded. With the doctor's guidance, he carefully cut the cord tying mother and son. The nurses then whisked the squirming baby away to be checked and cleaned.

Only moments passed but it felt a small eternity before their arms were gently depositing the now quiet infant into Lucia's waiting embrace. A soft sob escaped her, this time of pure joy, as she gazed down at her son's pink, precious face.

"Oh Paul, look...he's perfect," she wept, one shaking hand coming up to support his tiny head as her finger traced the curve of his cheek.

The kind nurse leaned over Lucia with a questioning look. "Have you chosen a name for this precious one?"

Lucia gazed up lovingly at Paul, her expression conveying silent communication between them. A smile of understanding crossed his lips as he nodded gently. She turned back to the nurse, speaking softly but surely.

"Jedidiah Azriel Lahote."

A hush fell over the room at the announcement of the name, heavy with meaning. The nurse beamed. "A strong name for what is sure to be a fine young man. Welcome to the world, little Jedidiah."

She fussed over the new family a moment more before quietly taking her leave, sensing the private moment between them.

Paul wrapped an arm around Lucia's shoulders, carefully resting his temple on the top of her head as they gazed down at their son - no, Jedidiah's tiny form, chest already rising and falling in peaceful sleep.

As gentle as a spring breeze, Paul brushed his finger along Jedidiah's rosy cheek. The newborn stirred at his father's tender touch. Then, almost as if recognizing the loving contact, his eyes flickered open for the first time.

Two luminous orbs of forest green peered up at Paul with curious focus. He felt his breath catch at the sight, for gazing back was his beloved Lucia. All of her tender beauty, held in miniature form between thick lashes and arched brows.

"Oh my," Lucia sighed in amazement. "He has my eyes."

Paul could only nod in stunned agreement, reaching to brush aside a lock of hair from her forehead. "And your lovely cheeks and freckles." His grin widened then, full of fatherly affection.

It was true - even swaddled, Jedidiah's complexion held the same rosy dusting as Lucia's. But then, tucked under that mop of dark tresses that resembled Paul's, was a nose the Lahote man knew could have come from none other than himself.

Small imperfections that, woven together, formed utter perfection. He was seeing double of both the woman he adored, and the babe they had made through their devotion to one another.

Gently, Paul leaned down to place a tender kiss upon Jedidiah's brow. "The best of us both, hm?"

Jedidiah gazed up at his father with those shining eyes, so full of innocence and wonder. As if compelled by some newborn instinct, his tiny rosebud mouth fell open in a perfect 'o' of curiosity and contentment.

And then, with a grip that belied his delicate size, Jedidiah's perfect little hand closed around Paul's finger. Clutched it tightly as if seeking the only anchor he knew in this new world.

Paul's breath caught in his throat at the feeling. Such fragile strength left him pierced to his core. This was his son - flesh of his flesh, holding onto him with complete trust.

Despite his best efforts, Paul felt hot tears spill unbidden down his cheeks. He didn't bother to check them; there was no shame here. Only joy, pride, and overwhelming love for this family he was blessed to call his own.

Glancing at Lucia through blurred vision, he saw understanding in her eyes. A shared resonance of every promise, every hope encapsulated in this singular moment of connection between father and newborn son.

"I love you both," Paul whispered, voice thick with emotion as he gazed down at Jedidiah's perfect little face. "More than I ever knew possible."

"We love you too," Lucia replied as she gazed adoringly between her husband and son, her heart so full it felt fit to burst. Never had she witnessed Paul surrender to emotion so raw and unbridled. And she knew in that moment, his love for their family ran deeper than even she had realized.

"Our beautiful boy," she murmured, her fingers caressing her son's downy cheek. Stroked it tenderly as his skin put the finest silk to shame

Admired the little bundle of joy in her arms. His rosebud mouth worked contentedly as he gurgled on some infant thought. Eyes of green wonder remained locked with those of his father before flickering to her own, trusting and true.

Their son - the physical manifestation of their love, radiant and whole and theirs.