I remember the time because the nurse told me afterward.
2:46 a.m.
My son was born.
There was a moment when the room seemed to become very quiet.
Not silent.
There were still people moving around me.
There were still instructions and soft voices.
But my attention narrowed to the little person being brought toward me.
Theo.
I heard someone say he was doing well.
Then I saw him.
He was smaller than I had imagined and somehow more real than anything I had ever known.
He had a full head of dark hair.
His face was scrunched up.
His hands moved as though he were trying to understand the world before he had even opened his eyes.
Seven pounds and four ounces.
Ten fingers.
Ten toes.
Perfect.
The doctor placed him against my chest.
I started crying.
I hadn't planned to.
I had told myself I would try to stay calm.
I had imagined smiling at Reid.
I had imagined us looking down at our son together.
Instead, my mother was beside me, holding my hand while the nurse helped position Theo.
I looked at his face.
He made a small sound.
I laughed through my tears.
"Hello, sweetheart."
His cheek rested against me.
I could feel the warmth of him.
The weight was almost nothing.
And somehow, it was everything.
My mother leaned over.
"Oh, Maren."
Her voice broke.
I looked at her.
She was crying too.
"He's beautiful."
I nodded.
I couldn't find words.
For a little while, I forgot the empty chair.
I forgot the unanswered calls.
I forgot the promise Reid had made.
There was only Theo.
My son.
I counted his fingers even though I knew someone had already checked them.
I looked at his feet.
His tiny mouth opened and closed.
I tried to memorize everything.
The shape of his nose.
The dark hair against his head.
The way he moved when the nurse adjusted his blanket.
I didn't want to miss a thing.
But even in that moment, part of me kept imagining what Reid would have said.
He would have smiled.
He would have leaned closer.
He would have probably asked the nurse whether Theo was supposed to make that little sound.
I could picture him clearly.
That made his absence harder to accept.
The nurse asked whether we had chosen a name.
I looked down at the baby.
"Theo."
She smiled.
"That's lovely."
I swallowed.
"Theo Shaw."
Hearing his full name made something settle inside me.
We had chosen it together.
Reid had written it on that little piece of paper.
I remembered the rainy Sunday.
The kitchen counter.
The magnet.
His smile when I finally agreed.
I wanted to believe that the name still belonged to both of us.
Even if only one of us had been there when Theo arrived.
My mother kissed my forehead.
"You did so well."
I shook my head.
"I wish he had been here."
She didn't answer immediately.
She looked at Theo.
Then she looked at me.
"I know."
That was all.
And it was enough.
The next few minutes passed in a blur.
The nurses checked Theo.
They checked me.
Someone adjusted the blanket.
Someone asked whether I needed anything.
I answered when I could.
My body felt exhausted.
My hands were trembling.
But I kept looking at my son.
I was afraid that if I closed my eyes, I might miss something.
At one point, my mother asked whether she could hold him.
I hesitated.
Not because I didn't want her to.
I just wasn't ready to let go.
Then I carefully placed him in her arms.
She held him close.
Her face changed.
I had seen my mother with babies before.
I had seen her hold my nieces and nephews.
But this was different.
This was her grandson.
She looked down at him as though she were seeing something she had waited years to see.
"Hello, Theo."
He moved his mouth.
She smiled.
"Your grandmother is very happy to meet you."
I watched them.
I was happy.
Really happy.
But happiness didn't erase everything else.
It simply sat beside it.
The empty chair was still there.
The phone was still silent.
And Reid still hadn't come back.
A little later, my mother said she was going downstairs to get coffee.
She looked reluctant to leave.
I told her I would be fine.
She asked twice.
I assured her twice.
Finally, she placed Theo back against my chest and stood.
"I won't be long."
I nodded.
She picked up her handbag.
Before leaving, she looked at the chair again.
I knew she wanted to say something.
She didn't.
The door closed behind her.
The room became quieter.
Theo slept against me.
I could hear his breathing.
Every now and then, his little body shifted beneath the blanket.
I touched his hand with one finger.
He curled his fingers around it.
I started crying again.
This time, I wasn't thinking about Reid.
I was thinking about the fact that someone so small had just become the most important person in my life.
I wanted to be a good mother.
I wanted him to feel safe.
I wanted him to grow up knowing that he was wanted.
That he would never have to wonder whether someone was coming back for him.
I didn't know why that thought stayed with me.
Perhaps it was because I had spent the night wondering the same thing.
Would Reid come back?
Would he explain?
Would he apologize?
Would he hold his son?
I looked at the phone on the table.
It was nearly dawn.
I didn't call him again.
I had called enough.
I had sent enough messages.
I had spent enough hours making excuses for a man who had promised to stay.
For the first time, I allowed myself to consider that he might not come.
The thought made my throat tighten.
Then Theo stirred.
I looked down at him.
He was here.
That was real.
Whatever had happened outside that room could wait for a few minutes.
I adjusted his blanket.
His dark hair stood up slightly near the crown.
I smiled.
"You're going to be all right."
I wasn't sure whether I was talking to him or myself.
The windows were beginning to change color.
The night was giving way to morning.
I was so tired that even holding my eyes open had become difficult.
My mother had not returned yet.
The nurse had stepped out.
For the first time since the birth, I was alone with my son.
I thought about the day ahead.
I thought about Reid walking into the room.
I thought about how I would react when I saw him.
Would I cry?
Would I be angry?
Would I ask him where he had been?
I had no idea.
I only knew I needed an explanation.
Not another promise.
Not another twenty minutes.
An explanation.
I looked at the empty chair one last time.
Then I lowered my head against the pillow.
Theo slept peacefully against me.
And I finally stopped waiting for the door to open.
Click here to continue reading: PART 4: The Man I Had Been Waiting For Finally Appeared, but the Little Girl in His Arms Changed Every Question I Had Prepared
The Empty Chair Beside My Hospital Bed Was the Last Place I Expected to Find Myself Looking for Him
Part 3 of 4
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