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Labor is loud and messy, and I don’t even consider looking between her legs for fear I may pass out. I don’t know how women do it. If it were left up to men to give birth our species would have died out a long time ago, because none of us would have the mental and physical ability to do what Bambi is doing right now.

I coach her breathing like we practiced and wipe the sweat from her forehead with a cold cloth. With one last command from the doctor Bambi screams and bears down and just like that it’s over. One second, we’re just Warren and Bambi the next, we’re parents and Noah’s cry fills the room.

All sound other than his cry evaporates, every movement other than the nurse cleaning his tiny body disappears. There’s no one else besides the three of us in the world at this moment.

My attention is drawn from the nurse holding Noah to the doctor handing me a pair of scissors and telling me to cut. I take them and cut the clamped umbilical cord and watch every movement of our son while still holding Bambi’s hand.

The doctor finishes cleaning and stitching Bambi but we’re both focused on the crying baby being wrapped in cloth and brought back to us. The nurse immediately lays him on Bambi’s chest, and she bursts into tears that have nothing to do with the pain of labor. His tiny hands fist and eyes squint trying to focus in the bright light of the hospital.

“He’s perfect,” she coos, caressing his pink pudgy cheek.

“You’re both perfect,” I correct.

She looks up at me and the world feels right for the first time in my entire life. Watching the love of my life holding my purpose in life, my heart swells like a sail caught in a squall. Filling to near bursting in record speed, pulling me in the right direction.

~

Nearly fifteen hours after her water breaking, Bambi sleeps peacefully in the hospital bed, completely beat from labor. In my arms rests the tiniest little person I’ve ever seen. A small blue knit cap on his head where strands of dark hair poke out. His face is squished and wrinkly and if his eyes were open, they would be a beautiful shade of gold like his mothers.

I gently rock in the rocking chair next to Bambi’s bed soothing the sleeping baby in my arms. Noah’s barely been in the basinet they provided because neither of us could give up holding him. He fits comfortably in one of my arms, the tattoosdark and colorful surrounding him. My heart skips a beat when he gurgles and twitches in his sleep.

“You don’t know this, but you’ve changed everything. If it weren’t for you, I may have missed out on the best thing in my life. Well, things now.”

I brush a fingertip over his scrunched nose and marvel at the person we made. He may have been an accident or unintentional, but he was never a mistake. He’s perfect and so is his mother. I look over at her fast asleep with her red ponytail all messed up and her mouth slightly open as she breathes deeply.

I don’t know how I could have ever thought I didn’t want this. I know I was afraid that I might be like my father. That having a family meant losing myself and falling to the bottle like he did. Now I know that was his choice, and mine will be different. I choose to be better, to accept the love of the woman of my dreams and to give as much love as I possess to our son.

The anger and scars I have from my childhood will never truly disappear, but I can move on from the hatred and learn from his mistakes. I have no doubt there will be times I suck at being a dad, but I won’t blame our son for that, and I won’t let it dictate the future.

“I promise I’ll never blame you for my shortcomings. You’re going to have so much love you won’t know what to do with it all,” I whisper down to my son in my arms. “Things are going to be different for you. We’re going to laugh and play and as soon as your mother is willing, we’ll give you a sibling to love and play with too. Maybe more than one.”

“I heard that,” Bambi mutters sleepily. I look up to find her eyes half open and watching us.

“Do you disagree?” I ask and she smirks.

“No. But I’m not sure how well we’ll all fit in our two-bedroom apartment.”

“We’ll fit, don’t worry about that.”

She giggles and then winces, rubbing low on her abdomen.

“Sore? Do you need a nurse?”

“No, I’m fine. I just can’t laugh yet. I think I just peed myself. At least I hope that was pee.”

I stare wide eyed at her, mentally flipping through all the books I read about childbirth and the possible aftereffects. Bambi reaches out and pats my arm not holding Noah.

“It’s fine relax, I was joking. Nothing is wrong. The doctor and nurses said everything went as it should.”

I exhale a deep breath, relieved to know nothing went wrong with her health during labor.

“That’s not a very funny joke,” I chide, but only half-heartedly.

“I thought it was pretty funny,” she mutters. I scowl. “How is he? Still sleeping?”

“Like a log. Hopefully that’s a good omen for the future. All the books said to be prepared for many sleepless nights in the beginning. Maybe we got lucky.”

Bambi pushes herself higher up on the inclined bed and as soon as she’s settled, I reach over and place a kiss to her cheek. Her hair sticks up in every direction and she’s still a little sticky with sweat, but she’s perfectly beautiful to me.