But the baby stopped crying.
And Wade closed his eyes.
Just for a second. Like he was the one who had needed it.
I wrote it in my notes and went back to work.
The Chair He Didn’t Leave
The first hour, I checked on them every fifteen minutes.
The second hour, I stretched it to twenty.
By hour four, I had to stop hovering because other babies needed me and because, honestly, watching them made it hard to focus on anything else.
Wade sat in that rocking chair like he had been bolted to it. He accepted water when Denise offered it. He used the restroom once, handed the baby carefully to another nurse, and was back before I had finished charting the handoff.
He didn’t use his phone.
He didn’t read.
He just sat there with this tiny, nameless baby against his chest and rocked.
