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My vision blurs as I stare down in disbelief. “She’s…” I can’t find the right words to do her or this moment justice.
Her head fits in the palm of my hand with her body stretching down the length of my arm. She has ten tiny fingers and ten small toes. Everything about her delicate and beautiful.
Chloe places her hand on my arm as she pulls herself up in the bed, trying to get comfortable. “Look at all that hair. She looks just like her papa.”
I run the pad of my thumb against the silky strands near her tiny ears. “It’s the same color as mine.”
We did this. We made her. She’s a little piece of me and a little piece of Chloe mixed to make a tiny human.
“She’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever laid eyes on.”
“She is,” Chloe agrees, fighting back a yawn.
“I don’t know if I’ve ever loved anyone as much as I love her.”
“I’m not even offended by that statement.” Chloe closes her eyes for a few seconds. “I feel the same,” she whispers.
The baby’s so helpless. It hits me like a ton of bricks that her survival and safety rests squarely on my shoulders. I’ve never been responsible for someone so helpless and it’s terrifying.
“Hey little girl,” I say to our new baby. “We love you.”
“What are we going to name her?”
I peer up from the little one to my wife who somehow looks more beautiful than she did yesterday. “What do you want to name her?” I ask. She did the heavy lifting, pushing out the baby and carrying her through her entire pregnancy.
“Does she look like an Iris?”
“What does an Iris look like?”
Chloe smiles. “It’s a flower.”
“She’s as delicate as one.”
“I’m partial to Violet.”
I stare down at the baby, trying to picture her as a small child and my chest tightens. I never want her to grow because that leads to her moving away and leaving us.
Fuck. I’m a mess. She’s not even an hour old and I’m already getting sappy about things that will happen twenty years from now.
“I like Violet.”
“We can call her Vi for short.”
“Middle name?”
“Lucia.”
My smile is immediate. “Ma will love that.”
“Violet Lucia Bianchi. It’s pretty, right?”
“It’s perfect.” I drop my gaze to our daughter, bringing her face close to mine and whisper, “Welcome to the world Violet Lucia Bianchi.”
There’s a knock on the door followed by the entrance of my mother’s head. “Can we come in?” she asks, her eyes on the baby and not us. “Please.”
“Of course,” Chloe tells her, motioning for them to enter. “I’ve been waiting for you.”
Ma pushes the door open and strides into the room without a moment’s hesitation. Her head’s already a little head, the pride of being a grandmother is oozing off her. She’s wearing a pink t-shirt that says Boss Grandma across her chest. “Maria, look.” She points at Violet and tiptoes to my side. “Oh my God,” Ma says, reaching out to brush a fingertip across the hair near Violet’s temple. “You had this much hair when you were born. She’s a little twin.”
“At least she doesn’t have the same ugly mug,” Pop says with a small laugh, finding himself funny. “Your face was so damn squished…” he shakes his head and winces. “I swear you made people cry.”
Ma reaches back and slaps his arm. “They were tears for his beauty.”
Dad lifts his hand up and rubs the spot Ma made contact. “They were not tears of joy. The boy was ugly with a capital u.”
Ma’s eyes slice to him. “Don’t ruin this moment for me,” she warns him.
He raises his hands in the air. “I’ll keep my mouth shut.”
“Perfect,” she mutters before turning her attention back to the baby. “Can I hold her?”
I glance at Chloe, waiting for the sign, which she gives without hesitation. “Do you remember how to hold a baby, Ma? It’s been a while.”
Ma’s hands slide on top of mine, taking Violet like she hasn’t missed a day. “Don’t be silly. It’s something you never forget.” Ma moves to my side, taking a spot next to me on Chloe’s hospital bed. “Absolute perfection.”
“She is, isn’t she?” I ask, unable to stop myself from smiling at the sight of my mother with her first grandchild in her arms.
Ma moves the blanket aside and touches Violet’s cheeks. “What’s her name?”
Chloe lifts her chin slightly, giving me the green light. “Violet.”
Ma’s smiles wider. “Welcome to our family baby Violet. I’m your Nonna.”
Pop leans over Violet with nothing but love in his eyes. “You’re going to cost me a small fortune, sweet girl, but you’re worth every penny.”
Ma shoots my Pop daggers. “Hush it.”
“Her full name is Violet Lucia,” Chloe announces.
My Ma’s eyes instantly fill with tears. “What?” she whispers as she turns her gaze toward Chloe. “You named her after me?”
Chloe nods with a smile. “We love you.”
“I love you too,” Ma says with her bottom lip trembling and tears cascading down her cheeks.
I sit down in a chair nearby, giving my body a rest. I don’t know why I’m so tired. I’m not the one who was in labor for the last fifteen hours. Chloe somehow looks better than I feel. I’m in awe of her.
“I’m going to spoil you rotten,” Ma tells Violet. “You’re going to be the best dressed and most well-loved little girl this town has ever seen.”
I remember Gracie when she was little. Ma fawned over her. I think it’s why Gracie does everything in her power not to dress too girlie. Ma killed any love of lace and party dressed in her by the time she a teenager.
“You’re my little Italian princess.”
“Gracie may not be so thrilled about that,” Pop says to my Ma.
“I think Gracie will be happy to have a little heat taken off her,” I tell him.
Ma looks up for only second an gives my father and I look. The same look she always gives us when we’re annoying her. “Gracie will always be my baby girl. My first little Italian princess, but Violet…”
“Aw. She’s so tiny.”
We turn our eyes to the door and find Grace with a teddy bear in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other.
“Gracie doesn’t want to be the Italian Princess anymore,” Grace says about herself in third person. “I’m passing it on to the little one.”
Ma looks at my sister, turning the baby so Grace could see her cute face. “Come meet Violet Lucia. My namesake.”
“Kiss ass,” Grace whispers to me before she makes her to my mother’s side to meet her niece.
These are the good days. The good times.
And I know they’re only beginning.