Invisible String

46

Travis carefully transfers him to me, and the second he’s in my arms, everything else disappears. His weight, his warmth—it’s grounding. I glance up at Travis as I settle the baby against my chest.

“Thank you,” I whisper. “For making me stop. For taking care of him. And me.”

He brushes my hair back from my face, thumb grazing my cheek.

“Always,” he says. “You’re not doing any of this alone, Tay. We’re a team now. And I’ve got you. Every messy, beautiful second of this.”

I blink back fresh tears, lean my head against his shoulder, and exhale. Our son breathes softly between us, and the world—for just a moment—feels completely still.

I look down at him—his tiny hand curled into a fist against my chest, his lashes casting the softest little shadows on his cheeks. The weight of him, the warmth of him… it still doesn’t feel real. And yet it’s the most real thing I’ve ever known.

“Okay,” I say quietly, my voice barely above a breath. “He needs a name.”

Travis is right beside me, sitting close enough that our knees touch. He looks over at me, his eyes soft, then down at our son.

“Yeah,” he murmurs. “It’s time.”

I take a breath, my fingers trailing over the baby’s tiny back. “Baylor,” I say. The moment it leaves my lips, something inside me settles. Like I’ve been holding my breath and didn’t even realize it.

Travis is quiet for a second. Then he smiles.

“Baylor,” he repeats, tasting it. “Yeah… that’s him.”

I nod, the tears already welling in my eyes. “It fits, doesn’t it?”

“It really does,” he says, leaning in to kiss the side of my head. “Strong. Gentle. A little unique, just like his mama.”

I laugh softly through the lump in my throat. “He’s Baylor.”

Travis reaches over, brushing a finger over the baby’s cheek. “Hi, Baylor,” he says gently. “I’m your dad.”

I cradle him a little closer. “And I’m your mom. And we love you so, so much.”

Baylor stirs just a little, letting out a soft sound—somewhere between a sigh and a squeak—and we both smile like the whole world just cracked open.

He has a name.
And he’s ours.
I glance over at Travis, blinking. “Wait…” I pause, then let out a breathy laugh. “Is that weird? Taylor and Baylor?”

He looks at me, clearly trying not to laugh too. “Ohhh.”

I raise an eyebrow. “You didn’t think about that until just now?”

“I mean… maybe it crossed my mind,” he says, grinning. “But honestly, I kind of love that they sound like a pair.”

“Taylor and Baylor,” I say out loud, tilting my head. “It sounds like a law firm. Or a country duo.”

Travis chuckles, rubbing his palm gently along Baylor’s back. “Okay, definitely a country duo.”

I can’t help but laugh again, even as I feel Baylor start to stir in my arms. “Hi, we’re Taylor and Baylor, and this next one’s called ‘Mama Needs a Nap.’”

Travis snorts. “You’re ridiculous.”

“I’m sleep-deprived.”

He leans in, kissing the side of my head. “But seriously… if you love it, I love it. The name suits him. And honestly? You two sound like you belong together.”

I glance down at our son—Baylor. His face soft and peaceful. And despite the rhyming, the matching vibes, all of it… it still feels right.

I nod slowly. “Okay. Baylor it is. And if anyone gives us crap about the names rhyming, I’ll just tell them to take it up with postpartum me.”

Travis grins. “They wouldn’t dare.”

I look down at Baylor, snuggled against my chest like he’s already claimed this spot as his permanent home. His breathing is slow and even, and I can feel his tiny fingers twitching slightly, like he's dreaming.

“Okay,” I whisper, glancing at Travis. “We’ve got Baylor… but he needs a middle name.”

Travis leans back a little, rubbing a hand over his face, thinking. “Yeah… this feels like the part where we get stuck.”

I nod, because he’s not wrong. The first name felt like lightning. But the middle name? That’s the one that feels like legacy. Like meaning.

I shift Baylor a little, tucking the blanket around him better. “Something solid. Something that balances Baylor.”

Travis glances at me, then quietly says, “What about James?”

I look up. “James?”

“Yeah,” he says. “It’s strong. Classic. Feels grounded next to Baylor.”

I say it slowly, testing the rhythm. “Baylor James Kelce.”

And then I nod. “It works. It’s simple, but it has weight to it.”

Travis smiles. “Plus, I like the idea of him having something timeless. Even if he’s got a cool first name, there’s something comforting about James.”

I look down at our boy again. “Baylor James,” I whisper to him. “That’s you.”

He stirs just a little, as if to say finally.

I smile. “Okay then. Baylor James Kelce it is.”

Travis wraps an arm around me, his other hand resting over our son’s back. “Officially part of the team now.”

I rest my head against his shoulder. “Yeah. Our littlest teammate. And the best one yet.”