UNPLANNED

Part 15

He laughed when you made a face, "still the worst feeling ever?"

"Might be worse than giving birth," you laughed.

"I still can't believe one of the nurses said to brush your nipples with a toothbrush," his eyes were a bit wide, just as traumatized as he'd been the night before when the suggestion was offered.

"Makes sense, though," you shrugged, fighting the smirk on your face. "Roughen 'em up a little bit."

You sat there for a while in silence, both of you watching when she latched, pulled away, latched again. You'd never seen him look at someone like he looked at her: like everything in the entire universe was held in her blue eyes, safe and exciting. She started to cry, broke an arm free from the swaddle she'd been in.

"Here," he extended his arms to take her, the confidence in his eyes faltered when you let go, passed her over with ease. "How do I–is this okay?" He adjusted her head in the crook of his elbow, the other hand under her butt.

"Yeah," you nodded. "She can sense your nervousness, though."

"What do you mean?" He looked up at you with a furrowed brow, stress written on his face.

"Act confident and you'll feel confident, if you're anything but she'll feel it. It's like a baby's sixth sense."

"Huh," he looked down at her, bounced a bit at the knees to settle her. When she did, he turned around and brought her towards the window. Do you see the sky, Janey? See the blue? Mummy's old house is over there, his voice was soft when he spoke, barely a whisper when the door opened again.

Breakfast on a tray and you never ate so quickly in your life. Glenne and Jeff came back around ten, balloons in tow and hesitant smiles when they pushed the door open. Your mom had fluttered in and out a few times, went to Harry's to grab a different bra and another newborn onesie that sat, untouched, on top of the changing table for the last four weeks.

Nobody had held her yet, just your mom, Harry a few minutes after she was born. But now, Glenne watched you closely, the look in her eyes was greedy and excited when you passed her over, her lips curling into an emotional smile when she kissed her forehead. She's beautiful.

The flow of people through the door was constant, first just Glenne and Jeff, but Lexi came around lunch time, your mom was in pure helping mode. She'd grabbed food, got you a coffee, asked the nurses for more diapers, anything she could do to make it easier on you.

Anne and Gemma came after that, tears and smiles and a faint sense of belonging to a family that once felt like strangers. Nurses and doctors shuttled back and forth, eventually, the same hospital social worker who'd brought the birth certificate reappeared, talked to you about discharge and packing up your things.

You hadn't discussed it until she asked the night before, both of you looked to each other with uncertainty. And the last name?

Somehow it slipped through the cracks of preparation, hidden behind the importance of a first and middle name, crib color, paint samples, diaper genies. You could tell he sensed your panic, took a step forward.

L/N-Styles, he said, with a hyphen.

But you shook your head, challenged the fear that her life would be anything like yours, tugging around a last name that felt impersonal and disconnected, one of your only ties to the first man that broke your heart. Just Styles, you corrected, watching as the woman backspaced on her computer. He would never do that, right?

So you watched Glenne rock her back and forth, she passed her off to Lexi eventually and they all promised to come see you tomorrow once you were back home. You showered with the help of your mom, the door left open a crack to ease the nervousness in you about leaving Harry alone with her.