What Her Dad Doesn't Know(29)
Of course all that is missing is the pictures. Even though we have a photo printer at home, so you would think it would be easy enough to print and stick the pictures in, I hadn’t had any time until now. I set my phone up to transfer all 300 pictures of Violet and get to work picking out which ones I want to print. There are a whole flood of memories coming back. The first little set of onesies we picked out together (only two months in, so it was a unisex set with little yellow giraffes and brown teddy bears), choosing the colors for the nursery (Andrew insisted that he paint the room on his own so I don’t breathe in paint fumes), and the first time I realized I actually had a bit of a bump instead of looking like I’d eaten ten burritos in a row (five months in).
And then I come across the 20 week ultrasound where we realized we were going to have a baby girl. I still remember that day fresh as ever:
Andrew has a big meeting today, so I have to go alone. I tried to reschedule, but since he found out only a week away, it’s impossible to find a time. I hate it, but what can I do? Andrew’s the CEO of the company, but even he can’t always pick and choose when to have his meetings. I suppose it had to happen at some point. But did it have to be at the gender reveal? I know he feels my sadness, because he tried extra hard to cheer me up this morning, making my favorite- blueberry waffles.
At exactly eleven o’ clock I arrive at the OB’s office. Luckily there’s a parking space near the door, so I don’t have to walk far. I don’t look too pregnant, but my feet are already swollen and painful. My back aches. And I’m still tired as hell. So far pregnancy is all bad, and no good. At least there’s the trip to Hawaii Andrew planned for the two of us to look forward to.
I push open the door. My OB’s office is bright and modern, with lots of cozy chairs and a mini-bar stocked with delicious drinks. I usually go for the little bottles of fruit juice. This baby has a serious sweet tooth, and I go crazy if I don’t get my fix every few hours. I’m just about to go and register with the secretary when I see a familiar figure standing up. Andrew?! My mouth drops open.
“What are you doing here?” I ask, surprised. “What about that meeting with-”
“There is no meeting,” he says with a smile. “I’ve resigned as CEO.”
“What?!”
He takes both of my hands in his.
“I’ve resigned. I still own the company, but I’ve resigned. I’ve been thinking about leaving for a while now, so luckily there’s a plan in place. They definitely didn’t expect me to just leave today of course, but I was driving into work and I thought ‘what the hell am I doing? I don’t care about any of this anymore. I want to be at my baby’s gender reveal. I don’t want to keep missing out on things.’ So I called Miranda and let her know. Then I came straight here.”
I’m still in shock. Andrew leans down and kisses me, his lips warm and tasty as ever.
“Are you- Are you sure Andrew?” I ask anxiously. “Work is important.”
“Yes, but not as important as you,” he says, then reaches a hand to pat my belly, “and this baby. And I’m making both of you my new priority now.”
And he did. True to his word, Andrew did resign as CEO. Of course, it isn’t like he spent the next few months completely idle. He dove into the whole parenting thing, reading up on books, researching the best baby gear and toys for Violet, and just taking care of the whole pregnancy side of things so that I could focus on making my jewelry business viable while I took maternity leave. And when the contractions hit me, I wasn’t alone like I was worried about, I was with Andrew. It was the middle of the day, and we had just finished Lamaze classes.
I click on another few pictures to print out and glue in. There we are, exhausted but proud, after a difficult labor that resulted in a c-section. There’s a picture of me, still being operated on, but with little Violet. There’s another one of Andrew in scrubs, with tears in his eyes and the biggest smile on his face as he cradles her. She was only six pounds ten ounces.
And then I come across another picture. This one was taken by the nurse assigned to my care, and the four of us are all smiling- me, Andrew, my mom, and my dad. Yes my dad. I couldn’t believe it either, but it happened because of what Andrew did:
“Why isn’t she sleeping?” I ask, frustrated. She has already cried for almost thirty minutes now, and nothing works. She just finished eating. Andrew scoops her up and checks her diaper, but she’s clean, and tries to pat her back to work out a burp. Nothing but more wailing. I can feel tears springing to my eyes. I’m beyond exhausted, everything hurts, and I want to sleep. Violet cannot be consoled though, and I feel a sudden stab of failure. Shouldn’t I know what to do? I’m her mother!