Schuyler
Calvin's fear shocks me.
“You've done this before; I haven't," I remind him. “Wash your hands."
When he sits again, I lean forward in the chair, passing the baby to him; she looks tiny in his powerful arms. Instantly, he softens, cooing to her.
I point to the card taped to her clear bassinet. I realize Calvin hasn't looked in the direction I'm pointing, so I read, “Baby Girl Calhoun weighs eight pounds, six ounces, and is 22 inches long."
“She's perfect," he whispers. He's gazing at her tiny face like he's seen nothing more adorable in his life.
“Yep! Ten fingers, ten toes, and healthy," I concur. “She's perfect. Can you believe she's ours?"
Calvin smiles at me. “Congratulations, Mommy."
“I'll never tire of hearing that," I confess, moving to sit beside him on the bed. I
