Chapter 13: Arrival
Our daughter was born on a clear morning in late spring.
Labor was long but uncomplicated. I had asked my sister to be present; Derek was notified according to the agreement and arrived after the delivery. He stood at a distance in the hospital room, holding a small bouquet that looked more dutiful than joyful. When the nurse asked if he wanted to hold the baby, he hesitated, then nodded.
I watched him look down at her face. Whatever calculation still lived behind his eyes, it could not erase the simple biological fact sleeping in his arms. He stayed only a short time. When he left, the room felt larger and calmer.
I named her Elise.
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In the days that followed, the practical work of early motherhood filled every hour—feeding, changing, learning the particular language of her cries. The legal battles receded into paperwork and calendar reminders. What remained was the ordinary, exhausting, miraculous labor of keeping a small new person alive and safe.
Derek exercised his supervised visits with careful punctuality. He was polite. He was distant. He never again mentioned the word “impossible.”
