Hunting Sawyer

My Son

I locked eyes on Tessa and I swear the color drained from our faces. But then a contraction hit me so hard I grabbed onto the counter to keep me upright.

Fuck that hurt! Weren’t these supposed to gradually get worse!?

“Tessa!” I snapped her out of her trance, sucking in breath when the contraction ended. “We need to move!”

“f**k! Right. Okay, um hospital?” Tessa was bumbling around looking for some unknown object that had the answer to our current, very urgent issue.

I nodded my head but as she took my hand another contraction hit me like a freight train. Wait – that was way less than two minutes apart. What the hell?

“On second thought, I’d better call Joe.” She almost whimpered and I saw the color drain from her already pale face.

Tessa called Joe, who was frantically grabbing the town’s midwife a few doors down. Tessa got me set up on a bed of blankets and towels downstairs. She was so loving, tender, and supportive. She wiped my face with cold water. Took the stupid wig off and pulled my hair out of my face. She helped me count. She helped me breathe.

It broke my heart to think that this was a moment she would have wanted to share with her own daughter in labor, but her future was cut too short.

I was resisting the urge to push, and I was praying out loud for Joe and the midwife to get there soon. Just when I thought I couldn’t bare another minute, when my body was kicking into autopilot, Joe and the midwife burst through the door and came clattering down the stairs.

“You better hurry up, he’s already crowning!” Tessa barked.

“How far along are you?” The midwife called out.

“Not far enough…” was all I could breathe out, sweat dripping down my face.

“s**t,” she gritted out and my heart dropped. Joe was at my side too, helping to hold me up. Giving me a worried look through his bushy eyebrows and wild beard. But he hardened up. It was so good to see him in person. I let out a sob as he wrapped his arm around me.

“You’ve got this Sawyer. Your boy is ready to be here. So, let’s meet him okay?” Joe’s eyes were pleading with his words, and it broke my heart. But I nodded again and felt the contraction taking over.

“Alright love, push hard this time, this is the hardest part. Three, two, one -- ”

I gave it everything I had, my waning energy surged and I clenched, doing whatever I could to get my son here and safe. Heavens above, please let him be okay…

And then I heard it. The softest whimper of a cry.

My adrenaline took over and I pushed forward to see.

“Is he alright? Is he okay?” I managed to stammer out, pressing myself forward to see him.

“He’s fine Sawyer. He’s ……perfect….” The midwife handed him over to me and he laid across my chest.

My entire world changed.

I felt the room spin on its axis. I felt my universe focus in on the squished face and head full of dark hair. My heart felt like it could explode and in the same instant…something in me permanently changed. The surge of joy and love in my being caused something broken that resided deep within my soul to shatter, and immediately mended it again - stitching all the pieces back together again. It was almost painful at first, causing the breath to leave my lungs. But then a glowing warmth spread from the pain point- flowing through my veins like warm honey and causing tingles to dance across my fingertips and toes.

He was perfect. Completely developed. Probably even considered large in size. He quieted as soon as he was back in contact with me, his wrinkly little hand wrapping its perfect little chubby fingers around my thumb.

I stifled back another sob.

I was not ready for him to be here. I was not prepared mentally, emotionally, or logistically. But none of that mattered. He was here now. And he was perfect. And now more than ever I would die protecting him.

Once my brain had caught up to my heart. I realized I had only been in labor a total of a half hour. I was only pregnant for a few months. And yet my son was perfect. Not abhorrent or an abomination. He was perfect and content… as long as he was touching me in some way shape or form. My son. He was so precious with a head full of dark brown hair. His eyes told a story of his mysterious lineage. My blue grey started at the center, but he had a curious violet ring around the iris. He would watch me intently, studying my face and reaching for my cheek. And I gladly accepted the adoration, the little rolls around his fingers and wrists were my absolute new obsession.

We all swore to keep everything quiet, not wanting to draw attention to the fact that my pregnancy was so short with a completely healthy baby.

“He’s perfect, Sawyer.” Joe smiled. “But Blake isn’t a typical man. He’s almost superhuman. So we’re going into this blind, Darlin. Who knows what your little tyke will end up like…” I could see the worry pinch in Joe's brows again.

“I know. But he’s my son. And he won’t be anything like his father. I can just tell.”

“Sawyer,” Tessa warned. “This means you have to decide on a name.”

“I already have,” I gave her a sly grin. “This is Tucker Joe Cadieux.” And with that a single warm tear rolled down Joe’s cheek and landed daintily on my shoulder.