Invisible String

46

The nurse returned a few minutes later carrying a small bin filled with the tiniest clothes I’d ever seen. She set it gently on the bedside table and looked at us with a soft, almost reverent smile.

“These were donated by moms and dads who had angel babies,” she said quietly. “They wanted other families to have something special, even when the journey doesn’t go as planned.”

I reached in carefully, feeling the delicate fabric between my fingers. Each piece was so small and precious — like a reminder of hope and love, even in the hardest moments.

Travis squeezed my hand, his eyes reflecting the weight of the moment. “We’re lucky to have this little guy here with us.”

I nodded, tears welling up. “And lucky to be able to wrap him in so much love.”

We carefully sifted through the tiny clothes in the bin, each piece seeming more precious than the last. After a moment, I held up a soft yellow sleeper with a matching little hat.

“This one’s so cheerful,” I said, smiling tiredly.

Travis nodded, picking out a pair of tiny white mittens next. “Perfect for keeping those little hands warm.”

Then I spotted an olive green sleeper with a cute avocado design on the front. I held it up, eyes sparkling. “This would be adorable for taking him home.”

The nurse smiled warmly as we laid the clothes out on the bed. “Great choices. He’ll look so sweet in those.”

I felt a surge of hope and tenderness wash over me. As small as these clothes were, they felt like a promise — a little bundle of new beginnings wrapped up in love.

With our son nestled against my chest in the soft yellow sleeper, his tiny breaths warm and steady, the room had grown quiet again. The kind of peaceful quiet that only comes after something life-changing. Travis had pulled his chair right up to the bed, one hand resting gently on the baby’s back, the other still holding mine.

I glanced at him, a small smile tugging at my lips. “So... we should probably talk names before Jason and Kylie show up with the girls and start throwing out suggestions like ‘Jingle’ or ‘Avocado Junior.’”

Travis chuckled, eyes still fixed on our son. “You’re not wrong. Jason’s definitely got some wild ones up his sleeve.”

I leaned my head back against the pillows, watching Travis for a second. “We didn’t plan for any of this… but now that he’s here, it feels like he’s always belonged. Don’t you think?”

He nodded slowly. “Yeah. Like he was just waiting for the right time to show up.”

I bit my lip, then looked down at the baby. “Do you want to go traditional? Or something with meaning? I just… I don’t want to rush it. But I also want him to feel like we really chose for him.”

Travis rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “What about something strong, but soft? A name with heart. Maybe something that connects with this moment.”

I smiled. “Like Christmas?”

He grinned. “Maybe not Santa Kelce, but… something that feels like home.”

I looked down at our boy again, his face scrunched up, hand curled around my finger. I already knew whatever name we chose, he’d make it his own.

“I have a few in mind,” I whispered. “But I think I want to hear yours first.”

We sat there quietly for a moment, the baby resting peacefully between us, and then Travis broke the silence with a grin.
“How about ‘Everett’?” he offered. “It means ‘brave as a wild boar.’ Seems fitting for our little surprise.”