Filed to story: Submitting to My Bestie’s Daddy Read Online >>???
“Score!” She laughed.
“And speaking of the godmother. We’d better let the family see him and let you get some rest,” Gio said softly.
“That would be great, actually.” She sighed in relief. “Who knew giving birth could be so exhausting?” she said sarcastically.
I giggled, getting to my feet as the nurses surrounded Elena, brushing her forehead with a cool washcloth. Her eyes fluttered closed, letting the nurses take care of her as she began to drift off into sleep.
We shut the door to the room quietly behind us, letting her get some well-needed sleep as we made our way to the waiting room. Our family was there, taking up a huge chunk of the room.
Alessandro’s foot was endlessly tapping the floor as he banged his fist on the nearby vending machine, a pack of chips stuck on the glass. Tallon was doing one of the kid puzzles set up on a nearby table, frowning in frustration as he dug into an old container filled with mismatched pieces.
Gabriele was leaning by the door, cool as a cucumber except for the furrow between his eyebrows, a clear sign of worry I had picked up over the last year and a half with him.
But best of all was Dahlia, who was sitting very quietly and properly in her seat, staring down at her lap as she tore apart the label of a water bottle into itty bitty pieces. There were several half-empty bottles beside her and a pile of confetti.
But she was the first to notice us standing at the entryway. She scrambled out of her seat, racing across the slippery floors and halting just in time to stop right in front of us.
“That’s my nephew-slash-godson!” she panted, her eyes gleaming.
Tallon, Alessandro, and Gabriele were quick on her tail, all of them surrounding us with varying expressions.
“He’s ugly,” Tallon said in surprise.
Alessandro smacked him on the back of the head, giving us a small smile as he said, “Don’t worry. He’s just an idiot.”
“I already called him a tomato, so no worries,” I giggled.
Gabriele leaned over to gaze at the sleeping baby, looking both horrified and fascinated by the mysterious creature.
“Do you want to hold him?” I offered him.
He reeled back as if I had just offered to have him decapitated. “Absolutely not!” he shouted, panic in his eyes. It was the most emotion I’d seen out of him that wasn’t anger, and it was a bit funny with how warily he gazed at our seven-pound child.
“I called dibs anyway!” Dahlia scooted him out of the way, holding out her arms, and I gave her a few pointers as I moved our son into her arms. She cooed at him, melting in happiness. A lone finger poked his chubby cheek, and I glanced at Alessandro with a grin.
He tilted his head, looking entirely unsure, like our baby might shatter into a million pieces if he put more than a feather’s weight into the poke.
“Having fun?” Gio smirked at him, and Alessandro blushed, coughing as he stepped away. But I could see he was already halfway won over by the baby.
“What’s my godson’s name?” Dahlia asked, her eyes shiny with emotion. “I’ve got to know what to have it engraved on all of his gifts in the future.”
I glanced at Gio, who met my eyes with a smile. We had agonized over the perfect name for him, going through book after book to find just the one that matched him.
And we had found it, one that completely resonated with both of us, the significance of the name symbolizing just how having our baby finally in our arms made us feel.
The sheer sunshine and warmth he gave to our lives, the bright hopeful future we wanted him to have–all of it was there in a single name.
I leaned over to press a soft kiss on my sleeping son’s forehead, just like Gio had done so many times for me.
“Welcome to the world,” I whispered to him, “Elio.”
*Olivia*
“Congratulations, Mr. and Mrs. Valentino.” Dr. Schmidt smiled, holding a swaddled, squirmy baby in her arms. Sticking out through the folds of the blanket was a tiny, chubby arm, red and angry skin but undeniably a baby. My baby.
My mouth opened, no words coming out as I stared at the little bundle completely speechless. Gio’s arm around my waist tightened, and I could feel the tension in his body, the nervousness he was trying to hide.
It had been a long nine months.
I opened up my arms, hesitantly reaching for the bundle. I’d been dreaming of this moment for over a year, waiting to meet our baby, but now that he was here, now that he was right in front of me, I couldn’t bear to take another step.
Doubts flooded my mind, but before I could act on those thoughts, a high-pitched wail pierced the air, and as if on sheer instinct, I lurched forward to tuck my hands under the blanket. Dr. Schmidt smiled, passing the baby over to me, and I held him in my arms, gently peeking through the fabric to spot his little red, scrunched-up face.
His wails stopped as soon as he saw me, his wide dark eyes staring at me like I was the most fascinating thing he had ever seen. Tears trailed out of my eyes as our eyes met, identical to one another.
“Hi,” I breathed, halfway between sobbing and smiling.
His hair was a shockingly bright blond, laid thinly over his potato-like head, and I brushed my thumb against his cheek, unable to take my eyes away from him for a single second.
Awe and happiness welled up inside of my chest, inflating like an over-filled balloon until I thought I might explode with how much love had been stuffed inside of me for this tiny little creature.
“Hi,” I repeated, nothing else coming to mind as I greeted him. This didn’t seem like the first time we had met. It was like I had always known him. He blinked slowly, his face still swollen and bloated from coming out the narrow birth canal, and there were huge shiny trails down his face from his tears but the only thing I could think was ‘He’s beautiful.’
“He looks just like you,” Gio murmured into my temple, pressing his lips there as he held the both of us protectively in his arms. “He’s got your eyes.”
“He’s red,” I said, a bit dumbfounded. “Like a tomato.”
Laughs burst out among the staff who had helped deliver the little bean, and I could feel Gio’s large grin but I didn’t care.
Oh… the realization set in… this was our baby.
Like the last piece of a puzzle clicking into place, everything suddenly made sense. All of the fear and anxiety over the surrogacy, all of the hurt and disappointment over the lack of being able to carry our own… even the uncertainty of my relationship with Gio at the beginning when we first met–all of it had led right here–to us.
“He’s ours,” I said, half in surety and half with a protective quality I didn’t realize I even had. Was this the maternal instinct they talked about?
“That’s right,” Gio chuckled. “He’s ours, carina.”
I exhaled all of my excess thoughts and emotions, letting them fly away until I only felt the euphoria of this moment basking over me like the sun. My heart was overflowing with love and gratitude for the little one in my arms.
I tore my eyes away from our baby, glancing at Gio with teary eyes but a large smile blooming across my face. He was smiling, so much adoration in his gaze that it hurt. He kissed my forehead, beaming just as brightly as I was.
We were complete, our family finally together after so many hardships–a quiet, peaceful moment… until he opened his little mouth, his eyes crinkling shut as he let us listen to his brand new set of pipes.
“He’s been through a lot,” Dr. Schmidt reminded us. “Let’s get him cleaned up, and then you can try feeding him. He’s not hungry, but sometimes sucking is calming to newborns.”
I nodded, glad that I’d get to feed him. While it was too bad I’d never be able to breastfeed him, I was still glad I’d get to hold him close and be the one to be there for him as he ate the formula that would help him grow and provide him nourishment.
“Fed is best,” the doctor had told us firmly. “Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”
The staff let us go with the baby down to the room where they cleaned him up and ran some routine tests. He fussed through a lot of it, but he was perfectly healthy, at a good weight and length. After that, they dressed him in a little white onesie with a hat, and I got to hold him while they prepared the bottle.
Gio helped me into the rocking chair set up in the corner of the private room they took us to, and I gently rocked back and forth, hushing our newborn son. After so many classes and training with several experts, it was a breeze to fix him into an easy position.
He latched onto the bottle right away, the milk warm in my hand, and I beamed as he sipped down his very first taste of milk. Gio kneeled in front of me, awe in his eyes as he gazed at our son with all the love he showed me every single day.
