This little guy wasn’t perfect, but close. She completely agreed with Dom’s assessment.
“You should keep him wrapped up if you can,” Bailey said to Sunny, wondering if Dom had once been pre-med. At least that would explain all his medical knowledge. “Or skin to skin. Keep him warm. I can see if we can get him to latch on… are you breastfeeding?”
“Oh… no…” Sunny shook her head, frowning for the first time since her son had been born. “I’m… he’s… he’s not mine.”
“I’m pretty sure giving birth to him makes him yours,” Dom said, leaning over to pull his sock down further on the baby’s head.
“I mean, I’m giving him up. For adoption.”
Bailey remembered what she’d said when she asked if she’d given birth before.
Three.
This was her third. So where were the other two?
She wanted to ask, but she didn’t. Instead, she unbuttoned the first few buttons of Sunny’s peasant blouse. The goth looked at her in surprise, her face flushed, mascara thick and running down her cheeks from her happy tears, and Bailey thought she’d probably never looked so beautiful in her life.
“Well he’s yours right now,” Bailey reminded her, turning the baby so mother and child were belly to belly, offering the little boy a dark rimmed nipple that he took eagerly, no prompting needed. “Besides, it will help the placenta come.”
Sunny made a face. “Oh fuck, I forgot about that part. Last time they yanked on the cord so hard it broke and I ended up in surgery.”
“Last time?” Dom met Bailey’s eyes, questioning.
“I’m cold.” Sunny’s teeth were starting to chatter. And it was no wonder—she was sitting in a wet skirt and a pool of fluid.
“Here.” Dom draped her knees with his suit coat. “That should help a little.”
Sunny smiled a thank you at him, then her eyes widened in surprise.
“Oh! Something’s happening!”
“Just the placenta.” Bailey peeked under the suit coat, seeing Sunny’s labia bulging. “It will be fine until the ambulance gets here. Unless you’re uncomfortable?”
“No.” Sunny shook her head, stroking the baby’s hand resting on her breast.
Bailey stood, stretching her aching limbs. She’d been squatting down on the floor the whole time.
“Thank you. Both.” Sunny looked up at them, tears brimming. “I don’t know what I would have done without you.”
“You did great,” Bailey assured her, glancing at her watch. She noticed Dom doing the same beside her. Sunny was lost again at the wonder of her baby suckling at her breast.
“So did you.” Dom’s voice was close to her ear, his hand on her shoulder, and she felt it again, that initial zap, like a static shock, followed by a slow spreading warmth.
She turned her head to look back at him and saw the same heat in his eyes. She drifted over to the sink to wash her hands. He did the same, handing her paper towel to dry them, his eyes still shining. Then they both stood there, looking down at the little miracle that had happened right there on the bathroom floor.
“Amazing.” His hand was back, massaging her shoulder and she had to admit, it felt pretty incredible. “You were amazing.”
“Not really.” She looked at Sunny and her baby, smiling to herself. “Babies have been coming into the world without assistance for a lot longer than we’ve had birth attendants.”
“Don’t sell yourself short.” Now both hands were on her shoulders and she gave a little moan when his big fingers dug into the knots of her muscles. She didn’t realize how much tension she’d been holding. When that little guy’s head had turtled and had started going from dusky to blue, she had been close to panicking.
“God that feels good.” She closed her eyes for a moment, letting him massage her shoulders, forgetting who she was, who he was, just reveling in the solace and comfort of human contact. It took her a moment to remember that this was Professor Jacobs—the man who was failing her in chemistry. The man every girl in class lusted after. The man who was standing bare-chested behind her, hands expertly easing the tension from her body, breath warm against her cheek. God, he smelled good. What was that? Something fragrant and exotic. Patchouli? Sandlewood? It was divine.
She’d been so distracted she didn’t hear the clatter of the gurney coming down the hallway but Dom had.
He checked his watch, murmuring, “Finally.”
As if on cue, the door burst open. Bailey saw Shelby hanging back in the hallway, chewing nervously on a nail. She must have directed the EMTs, who were already talking to Sunny, checking the baby, who wasn’t too happy about being pulled off the breast so they could clamp and cut his umbilical cord. It didn’t matter now—the placenta had detached and the cord had stopped pulsing.