She moved her head to the other side of the pillow to alert Sly, but she caught herself. She looked at her sleeping husband. He looked so peaceful with his blonde hair splayed across his pillow. Unfortunately, insomnia was one of the side effects of Sly's antidepressant, so sleep was often fleeting for him. Therefore, Emily wasn't about to interrupt this moment of slumber.
She tried for a few moments to go back to sleep, but she was too nervous. I guess this is it. After a while, she got up, hoping to expend some of her nervous energy. She walked into the bathroom and washed her face. She stared at her reflection in the mirror. Ready to be a mom, Emily? she asked herself.
After she dried off, she looked around the bathroom. She and Sly weren't the neatest people around, and so the floor was littered with towels in varying stages of dampness. She decided to pick them up, but she couldn't bend over. She instead slowly lowered herself to the floor. She then picked up each towel and threw them into the hamper. "Two points!" Emily said as one landed squarely in the basket. She started to laugh in spite of herself as she realized that she was probably just hours away from giving birth and here she was playing games in the bathroom.
After putting all the towels in the hamper, she took a glance at the tub. "Well, this is looks pretty sketchy," she said aloud. She turned to the cabinet under the sink and grabbed a pair of rubber gloves and powder cleaning agent. She used the handheld shower massager to spray water in the tub and then she sprinkled the cleanser around. Finally, she put on the gloves and started to scrub.
About fifteen minutes later, she was on her feet again to rinse away the last of the blue streaks left by the cleanser. Emily felt satisfied by the results. The tub was now sparkling clean.
She reached out and rubbed her back again. The same persistent ache was there, but no sharp labor pains. As she looked over the now clean bathroom, another burst of energy came over her, even though it was close to midnight. "The living room could stand some dusting," she said aloud. She walked slowly out of the bathroom, turning off the light after her.
*-*-*-*-*-*
Sly stirred in the bed, not noticing Emily's absence. He murmured in a low whisper, caught in a dream.
"Wait for me!" Sly called, jogging behind Emily on the soft brown sand of the beach. The sun was high in the summer sky, pleasantly warming his skin.
Emily stopped and turned around, smiling at him. The wind blew through her brown hair, combing it into soft waves. She was dressed in a bright yellow two-piece bathing suit that accented her slight tan. Her body glistened with a combination of seawater and sweat. "You're too slow!" she laughed.
Sly increased his pace and ran to her, quickly taking her in his arms and spinning her around. "You call this slow?"
Emily laughed delightedly. "Ok, I give."
Sly stopped spinning and they both collapsed onto the warm sand. Sly captured her lips into a kiss, and he could taste the salt on them. They held the kiss for a long time until they both fell back, breathless.
Sly was having trouble seeing Emily clearly; instead, she seemed a bit hazy, like the weather. He reached out to touch her cheek. "Emily, I haven't felt this way for a long time. It's strange, but it's a good strange."
"I think you're happy," she winked, taking his hand in hers.
Sly looked at his hands and was amazed that his right hand was totally healed and fully functional. "Oh my God," he whispered.
Emily got up and ran towards the water. Sly sat up and stared ahead at the churning azure sea. "Emily, don't go out there. The waves are too strong," he said worriedly.
Emily laughed as she entered the ocean. "Don't worry, Sly. All you have to do is jump the waves. Come out here and jump with me," she said, turning her back to him.
Sly watched as Emily leaped seemingly effortlessly over the large waves. "How does she do that?" he asked to no one in particular. He watched her for several minutes, but he felt his eyes growing heavy, so he lay back down on the sand for a moment, content to soak up the light and warmth of the summer day.
"Sly," he heard Emily say later. "Sly."
Sly felt so peaceful, so secure in the moment that he didn't want to leave. He murmured in protest. "It's too soon."
*-*-*-*-*-*
"I think we've waited long enough." Emily decided to push her sleeping husband a bit on the shoulders. She very gently tried to shake him awake. "Sly, wake up."
She was rewarded when Sly very slowly opened his eyes. "Em, Em," he stuttered, looking very confused.
"Sly, you've got to get up," Emily tried to explain calmly.
Sly blinked several times and tried to orient himself to his surroundings. He was in his bedroom, far from the tropical paradise he thought he was in moments before. He looked up into Emily's eyes, and the strange look he saw there brought on a wave of panic. "What is it?" he said, sitting up and running a hand through his blonde hair.
Emily tried to take a breath. "Sly, the baby's coming," she said in a tone that sounded more scared and vulnerable than she liked to admit.
The words cut through the sleep-induced haze in Sly's mind. "You're, I mean, you're sure?" he sputtered, his eyes rapidly adjusting to the dim light. Emily was dressed and seemingly ready in a soft cotton dress, the pastel yellow color standing out in the semi-dark room.
She nodded. "Yeah, I'm sure. My water broke a while ago, which was pretty gross," she said, crinkling up her nose a bit. "I called the doctor, and she says everything sounds like it's on schedule. I've been timing my contractions, and they're just about eight minutes apart. I figured that would give you time to get ready to go to the hospital, since I know we're supposed to wait until they're five minutes apart," she said, careful attention in Lamaze class now paying off.
Sly looked at Emily, puzzlement written all over his face. "How can you be so calm?"
Emily shook her head. "I'm not calm, Sly. This is a state of controlled panic," she said honestly. "Now get going," she ordered.
Sly had to think for a moment. "Where do you want me to go?" he asked, genuinely confused and anxious.
"You can take a fast shower, for starters, and then you can eat. I made you breakfast," Emily said, sliding the closet door open and taking out her packed bag.
"Ok," Sly said, and he nearly jumped off the bed. He then quickly opened up his drawers, grabbing clothes as fast as he could. He raced to the bathroom, but stopped when he noticed the condition of the room. The fixtures all sparkled; the floor was free of debris. There were fresh towels hanging on the bar at the back of the shower. "What happened in here?" he said aloud.
"I know it's hard to recognize when something's clean in this house," Emily said from the bedroom. "I got a burst of energy. I think it was what they call the nesting instinct."
Sly just shook his head and smiled. "Ok," he said, and without further comment, he closed the bathroom door and turned on the shower, stripping and hopping in without even letting the water warm up.
*-*-*-*-*-*
About an hour later, Sly and Emily were in General Hospital. Emily was seated in a wheelchair, and Sly pushed her from the Admitting Office. She played with her hospital bracelet for a bit, grateful for a reprieve from the contractions.
"I still don't know why you didn't wake me up when your labor started," Sly said softly as they reached the elevators.
"I didn't want to wake you up. I know you've been having trouble sleeping," Emily said as they waited for an elevator. "And there wasn't much for you to do, anyway."
"I wish there was. At least I could have vacuumed or something," Sly gently teased as the doors opened.
As Sly started to wheel her in, Emily held out her hand to stop him from going any further. "Wait a minute. We already got stuck in an elevator here once. I've seen it on TV, and I don't want to have to give birth on the elevator floor," she said worriedly.
Sly put a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Em, if you think about it, there are no births on TV that actually take place in a delivery room. It's a dramatic device. We can't worry about getting stuck again, because there's no way I can carry you up all those flights of stairs."
Emily sighed. "All right. But you better have been paying attention in those classes, because it will all be up to you if we do get stuck."
Sly nodded as he wheeled Emily into the elevator. "Ok, I guess, but I think it would be pretty hard one-handed."
Just as the doors closed, another contraction came over Emily. "Not again," she said through gritted teeth.
Sly immediately sank to her side. "We can try the breathing again," he suggested, and Emily complied, the both of them hee-hee-hooing all the way to the seventh floor.
*-*-*-*-*-*
"Well, you're still dilated seven centimeters, but this is your first baby, so labor might take a while." The pretty middle-aged African American woman, Dr. Newmann, rose from examining Emily. "Just keep up your breathing and be patient."
Emily grimaced. "But I've been patient all night," she said from the bed in the labor room.
"I know it's hard, Emily, but you've got a ways to go yet." She then touched Sly's shoulder. "But you've got this gorgeous coach here to help you through."
Sly winked at Emily. "She speaks the truth."
Dr. Newmann smiled. "I'll be back to check on you in a little while." She then left the room with the attending nurse, leaving Emily and Sly alone.
Sly paced the small room, painted a sedate sky blue. He kept staring down at his beat up work boots, which were a yellow contrast to the white linoleum. He then looked back to Emily, who lay tiredly against a pillow, waiting for another contraction. He moved closer to her. "You're doing a great job, you know."
Emily moved her head listlessly. "Doing what? Lying here and trying not to scream my brains out with every contraction?"
"You're bringing our baby into the world. I'd say that was pretty awesome," Sly said, taking her hand.
Emily's face suddenly twisted in pain. "Oh God, here comes another one," she screamed, and she squeezed Sly's hand as the contraction washed over her, starting off slow but quickly building in intensity.
Sly screamed as loudly as Emily. She was gripping his hand so hard, she was oblivious to the pain she was causing him. When the contraction was finally over, she let go. "Ow, ow, ow," Sly said as he shook out his throbbing, bright red hand. "Emily, did you want to break my hand? It's the only one I have left right now."
Emily lay back on the bed, exhausted. "Sorry, I'll take the bad one next time," she said crossly. She closed her eyes, wishing for a reprieve from her pain. I wish you were here to help me, Mom, she thought suddenly.
Sly walked a short distance away from Emily. He knew he shouldn't be hurt by her mood and smart comments, but they still stung anyway. God, guide us through this, please, he prayed. We sure need the help.
There was a soft knock at the door, and then it opened. Alan and Monica walked into the small labor room.
"Mom! Dad!" Emily cried, so happy to see her parents.
"Oh, Emily, how are you doing?" Monica asked, going directly to her daughter's side, and Alan crossed to the other.
Emily sighed. "I'm hanging in, I guess," she said softly, pushing a damp strand of hair out of her eyes.
"And how are you, Sly?" Alan asked. He saw Sly rubbing his left hand against his leg. "Is your other hand bothering you, now, too?"
Sly chuckled humorlessly. "Your daughter's got quite a grip."
"Sharing the pain, huh?" Alan asked his daughter. "Well, it's a good thing men don't give birth, because we're still big babies ourselves when it comes to things like this," he said smiling, trying to relieve some of the tension in the room.
"How did you know to come?" Emily asked, the detail of calling her parents having completely slipped her mind.
"Our kind son-in-law here called," Monica said, nodding in Sly's direction. "Of course, the news threw the whole family into quite a tizzy. Your brother is pacing, and Edward is demanding a status report every fifteen minutes. And of course, Lila is thinking of you and sends her love."
Emily smiled a little at the thought of all those people in her corner. "That's nice," she said.
Sly suddenly felt like the room was growing very crowded. "I'm going to take a short walk. I'll be right back," he said, excusing himself from the room.
Emily turned to look at Monica. "Mom, I've never been in this much pain in my life. I'm scared," she said, letting her guard down.
"Oh Em. It's perfectly normal to be scared. I was too, when I had my children." Monica smoothed Emily's hair back. "Did you know I gave birth to AJ at the mansion in the middle of a raging snowstorm?"
"Whoa," Emily said. "No anesthesia there."
Monica laughed. "No, there certainly wasn't. But I got through it, and you will, too," Monica said with quiet conviction. "Do you know how proud we are of you?'
"What's to be proud of?" Emily asked, self-doubt attacking again.
"We're proud of you for being you," Alan said firmly. "We're proud of the strong, responsible young woman you've become. You certainly didn't take the easy way out of your problems. You've always faced them head on, and that shows tremendous courage."
"And I know just as we're proud of you, so are Page and Hank," Monica said tenderly. "They're here with you now, just as we are."
Emily's eyes filled with tears. "I know," she said softly.
*-*-*-*-*-*
Sly walked back and forth nervously in the hallway outside Emily's room. He tried to take deep breaths in an attempt to quell the rising sense of uneasiness in his stomach. You've got to stay strong, he reminded himself.
"Hello, Sly," a soft voice called out from further down the hall.
Sly turned to see the friendly face of Gail Baldwin. "Oh, hi Dr. Baldwin," he said. "I'm surprised to see you here."
"Well, I was coming in early to do some paperwork and I ran into Alan and Monica, who gave me the news," she said, trying to read Sly's expressions and body language. "How are you doing?"
"Oh, I'm alright, I guess," Sly said, running his good hand through his still damp hair.
"And nervous, excited, scared. Do you want me to go on?" Gail asked with laughing brown eyes.
"There's a reason I pay you so much money," Sly said wryly. He leaned up against the wall with one foot up.
"So are you taking a breather out here for a minute?" Gail inquired, walking to the wall opposite Sly.
Sly nodded. "Yeah, Alan and Monica are in there now with Em." He put his left hand to his right arm almost protectively. "This is taking forever," he said, changing the subject.
"Where are your aunt and uncle?" Gail asked, sensing Sly was avoiding something.
"They're at home," he said dismissively. "I told them to stay there, since they wouldn't be able to do anything now anyway."
"Well, they would be here providing support, and that's pretty important for you," Gail said gently, doing her best to guide her young patient.
"I'm fine. Besides, Jenny is just as impatient as me, and she'd be climbing the walls," Sly said, looking down at his watch to see how long it had been since he left the room.
Gail furrowed her brow. "Well, I do have patients today, so I can't stay the whole time, but what if I called Scotty? I know Serena is staying with Lucy this week, and I don't think he'd mind coming."
Sly shook his head. "Really, Dr. Baldwin, I'm ok; I don't need someone to hold my hand through this." Off in the distance, he heard a page for a Doctor Arlington, and the rattle of a laundry cart. The antiseptic smell permeated everything and made Sly slightly nauseous. He didn't want to feel this way. He wanted to be happier. His child was about to be born. That should be reason enough to feel good.
"I can understand," Gail said, adjusting the cuffs of her plum suit. She then looked directly into Sly's eyes. "Besides, none of those people are who you're missing right now."
Sly colored, knowing she was talking about his parents. He couldn't deny he was thinking about them, but he didn't want to talk about them right now. "You know, I've been thinking about getting a tattoo."
Gail adjusted to the rapid change in conversation. She could tell Sly didn't really feel like being analyzed at the moment. "A tattoo? Really?"
Sly nodded. "Yeah, I was thinking about a black pattern that would climb from my right hand all the way up to my elbow."
"This sudden interest in body art wouldn't have anything to do with the scars underneath that hand brace?" Gail asked insightfully.
"Maybe," Sly said truthfully, looking down at his arm again. "I've got enough scars. I can hide most of them, but not these." He sighed. "Why should I have to look at a reminder of my stupidity every day for the rest of my life?"
Gail nodded. "Well, that decision is yours to make, Sly. However, just to play devil's advocate, maybe you should just think about what an employer might think of a very noticeable tattoo."
"That's their problem," Sly said, his youthful frustration evident.
Just then, the two heard another of Emily's painful cries. Sly winced at her obvious pain. "I know it's supposed to be like this, but I can't stand to hear her scream like that," Sly explained.
"That's ok, Sly. Just think of how grateful the two of you will be when the baby is born, and the labor is over," Gail said supportively.
"I better go back in there," Sly said. "Thanks for coming by, Dr. Baldwin. I appreciate it," he said with a small smile.
"Well, I hope everything goes well for you, Emily, and the baby. I'll see you later," Gail said, and she walked away.
Sly opened the door and walked right back into the room. Emily was panting on the bed.
"There you are," she said. "I was wondering how long you'd be."
"Missed me?" Sly questioned playfully, wishing to distract Emily from the pain. "I left you in good hands," he said, motioning to Monica and Alan.
"I know, but I wanted you," she said with direct honesty.
Alan and Monica rose at the same time. "Well, we can't stay here much longer, but we'll be close by all day," Alan said.
"Good luck, honey," Monica said, kissing Emily on the forehead. "If you need either of us, we'll be in our offices."
"Or pacing the hall outside the delivery room," Alan smiled. He leaned over and kissed Emily, and then whispered in her ear. "You can do it!" he said in his Sidney the bear lisp, which made Emily giggle a bit.
"Thanks, Sidney," she smiled and waved a bit as they left.
"Sidney?" Sly asked, taking a seat next to Emily.
"It's a long story," she said, and then she turned her eyes to her husband. "I want to say I'm sorry for the way I was acting before. I didn't mean to snap at you, or squeeze your hand so hard."
Sly smiled. "It's ok," he said, although he was certainly glad to hear it. "I know you're under a lot of stress right now."
Emily smiled sadly. "Sly, I don't think I can do this," she whispered, her breaths labored. "I'm so scared right now."
"Baby, it's alright," he said, gently caressing her arm. "It's normal to be scared. I'm scared, too."
Emily took a deep breath. "I'm just having trouble getting my head together. I can't seem to focus on what I should be thinking about, which is delivering this baby. I just can't get the worries out of my mind," she admitted.
"You need something to take your mind off of the worries so you can focus all your energy," Sly said, thinking hard. "Well, did you try the visualization from Lamaze class? The Arizona desert at night, all of those beautiful blooming cacti all around you, silence and peace everywhere?"
Emily nodded. "I tried, believe me, I did. I just can't get myself there. God, Sly, this is so hard!" she said, frustration and pain taking over.
Sly swallowed as he tried to think of some way he could help Emily, the woman he loved more than life itself. When all else fails, go with what you know, he suddenly thought. "Would it help if I sang to you?" he blurted out. "It's always calmed you down before."
Emily smiled genuinely at her husband. "Sure. I'd like that."
Sly gently stroked her hair as he spoke. "I've been feeling better, and some of my creativity, my flow, seems to be coming back. I've been working on something the last couple of weeks," he said with renewed confidence. "So why not give the song its world premiere now?"
Emily looked with interest as her husband started to sing, that golden voice filling the room. Sly had a look of ease and satisfaction, enjoying doing something he loved.
Caught, in an endless time
Waiting for a sign
To show you where to go
Lost, in a silent stare
Looking anywhere
For answers you don't know
The song had a slow ballad feel, but it lacked nothing, not even instrumentation. Sly's voice is all it needs, Emily thought, trying hard to focus on the song and not the pain radiating from her back of her abdomen.
Sly hoped Emily would like the song. After all, he had written it about her. He prayed he was helping.
On the wire
Balancing your dreams
Hoping ends will meet their means
You feel alone
Uninspired
Well does it help you to
Know that I believe in you
It does, she thought, touched.
Sly smiled as he sang to her, meaning every word.
You're an angel waiting for wings
Emily
"Oh, Sly, that's beautiful," Emily gasped, still amazed at his talent. She could feel another contraction starting, so she leaned forward a bit and started her breathing exercises, fighting a strong urge to push. It was too soon.
"That's it," Sly encouraged. "Like you're blowing out a candle," he said, and started breathing along with her.
"Keep singing," Emily said as her face scrunched up in pain.
"Oh, ok," Sly said, lightly rubbing her back. He continued on with the second verse.
You, going through this stage
It's a restless age
Young and insecure
Still, there are doubts to fade
Moments to be made
And one of them is yours
This is my moment, Emily thought, drawing strength from Sly's words. I can do this, I have to.
On the wire
Balancing your dreams
Hoping ends will meet their means
But you feel alone
Uninspired
Oh does it help you to
Know that I believe in you
You're an angel waiting for wings
Sly smiled sweetly at Emily, and it appeared the contraction was subsiding, just as the song was over.
Oh, you're an angel waiting for wings
Emily
Just then, Sly and Emily heard applause coming from the doorway. They had been so engrossed, they hadn't noticed the nurse and Dr. Newmann had come in. "Bravo!" Dr. Newmann cheered.
Sly blushed, and said, "Thanks."
"How are you doing, Emily?" the doctor asked as she moved over to the bed.
"Well, I'm a little calmer, but I'm in a lot more pain. The contractions are closer and closer together," Emily said, panting.
The doctor did a quick examination. "Well, that's good, since you are now fully dilated."
"Oh, thank you," Emily said, her voice full of relief.
"I'd say it's time to take you down to delivery," Dr. Newmann smiled, and stood up. "Get ready, guys, this is it."
Sly and Emily shared a glance. "We're as ready as we'll ever be," Sly said to the doctor, and he took Emily's hand.
*-*-*-*-*-*
About an hour later, Emily was in the delivery room, her feet in the stirrups, and she was bearing down with all her might.
"Five, four, three, two, one," Sly counted as Emily pushed. "And breathe," he finished.
She exhaled. "Oh my God!" Emily exclaimed, her whole body dripping with sweat.
"You're doing great, baby," Sly said, pushing some hair out of Emily's eyes. He took a few deep breaths himself. This is hard work, he thought.
It seemed just as soon as the contraction stopped, another one started. "Ok, Emily, we need another big push," Dr. Newmann said from the end of the table.
Emily shook her head. "I can't do it. I can't!" she cried, pain overwhelming her whole being.
"Yes you can, Emily," Sly encouraged firmly. "I know you can do this. It's not going to be too much longer, I promise," he said.
Emily looked up at her hospital-gowned husband and saw the sincerity and love in his eyes. "You've got to help me, Sly," she said desperately.
"Well, maybe it would help you to know that I'm having really sharp stabbing pains in my stomach right now?" Sly said, with a pained look on his face. "It's not the same, I know."
"Ah, sympathy pains," the attending nurse said sagely, while she monitored the vital signs of both mother and baby.
"Ok, Emily, push now!" Dr. Newmann directed.
"AHHHHH!" Emily screamed as she pushed.
"The head is crowning," Dr. Newmann reported. She looked to Sly. "Do you want to watch, Sly?"
Sly turned white. "Um, no thanks," he said, a bit squeamish about seeing things happening 'down there.'
Emily lay back against a pillow, exhausted. "I can't keep this up," she cried.
"Yes, you can, Emily. You're strong; you're powerful. You can do it," Sly said, taking her hand. "And I'm right here beside you all the way."
I need your strength, God, Emily thought. You're the only one who can help me now. She then felt yet another contraction come over her. It felt like a strong wave, and she knew she had to ride it. "Ohhh," she moaned.
"Ok Emily, big push, and the head should be free," Dr. Newmann said, adjusting her position to guide out the baby.
"Come on, Em, ten, nine, eight…" Sly began.
Emily pushed with all her might and every last ounce of strength, and finally, the baby's head came out. "Here's the head," Dr. Newmann said excitedly. "Just one more big push to go, Emily. You're doing great."
"This is it?" Emily said tiredly. "You're sure?"
"Yes, Em, this is it," Sly said, and his heart felt like it was going to pound out of its chest from fear and excitement. I'm going to be a father, he thought. My whole life has been leading up to this moment. God, bless me, bless Emily, and bless our new child.
Emily's eyes grew wide with one final, extremely painful contraction. She screamed loudly and pushed. "Here come the shoulders," Dr. Newmann said.
Just then, the cries of a baby greeted the ears of everyone in the room. Sly was sure he had never heard a more wonderful sound.
"Congratulations Emily and Sly," Dr. Newmann said. She rose and held up the baby for them to see. "You have a beautiful baby boy!" The baby was squirming and crying, covered in blood and fluid, but Emily was sure she had never seen anything more beautiful. She then fell, exhausted, back onto the table.
"A boy," Sly gasped, his brown eyes transfixed. "A boy." He looked to Emily with genuine wonder and awe, which she returned. Both of their eyes followed their child as he was suctioned off. Then Dr. Newmann called Sly over. "Ok, Dad, would you like to cut the umbilical cord?"
Sly still couldn't wrap his mind around anyone calling him dad, so it took him a couple of seconds to register the comment. He walked over and saw that the cord had already been tied off at both ends. "You sure this won't hurt?" he asked hesitantly.
Dr. Newmann shook her head. "It doesn't hurt the baby or Emily." She handed him a pair of sterilized scissors.
"Ok," Sly breathed, and he cut the cord. The baby was then whisked away to a table off to the side of the room where the nurse and Dr. Newmann cleaned him off more thoroughly, put drops in his eyes, and attached a hospital identification bracelet. When they were done, the nurse wrapped him in a soft blue baby blanket and brought him over.
"Here you go, Mom," the nurse said sweetly, and she handed the baby to Emily.
Emily gasped a bit as she finally got to hold her baby in her arms. "I've waited a long time to meet you," she whispered. She immediately started memorizing every detail about her son, his tiny hands, his long eyelashes, and the tuft of blonde hair on his head. "He has your hair," she said to Sly with a slight laugh.
"Poor kid," Sly joked. He was fascinated by the beet red, crying infant. He sure didn't look like what he had expected, but it didn't matter. A strange flood of happiness and fear rushed through his veins. I'm a father, he thought simply. It's a whole new world.
After a few minutes of just staring at the infant, Emily looked up to Sly. "I'm sorry, I'm hogging him," she said apologetically and with a great note of fatigue.
"I'd say you deserved to hold him first, after all that," Sly said proudly.
"Here, Sly, you take him," Emily said, knowing she had a bit more work ahead of her delivering the placenta.
"Ok," Sly whispered, and he very gently lifted the now sleeping infant from Emily's arms. He held his son with a mixture of extreme gentleness and powerful strength. His eyes drank in everything about this new creation. "You're finally here," he whispered. Just then the baby awoke and his eyes opened. They were a beautiful and mysterious shade of violet. The sight of his son looking up at him took Sly's breath away. "I love you," he blurted out suddenly. "I want to make that clear right from the start, and I'm going to say it every day, so you better get used to it."
Emily smiled at the sight of Sly and their son together. She hadn't ever seen such a look of such complete joy on Sly's face. She closed her eyes, exhaustion taking over.
Sly touched his son's face with the tips of his fingers, wanting to establish a bond right away. "I'm going to make you a promise today," he said softly, happy tears welling up in his eyes. "I'm always going to love you, and protect you, no matter what. You will always have a home here in my arms."
Song Credit: "Emily" by Michael W. Smith. Written by Michael W. Smith and Wayne Kirkpatrick. From the album, Go West Young Man.