“You look so much like your mama.”
As I hold her in my arms, I’m in awe of this perfect little angel. Barely eight pounds and was only born less than twenty-four hours ago, but I already know I’d move heaven and hell for her.
It all happened so fast. By the time I got Magnolia to the hospital, she was eight centimeters dilated, and it was too late for an epidural. Of course she thinks she had an easy labor because of all the sex we’ve been having the past two weeks.
I told her it’s because Willow couldn’t wait to meet her daddy.
Every night in bed since Magnolia and I officially got back together, I’d talk to her belly so she’d recognize my voice. Her cute little baby kicks always made me smile in return.
They felt like our first father-daughter bonding moments.
Either way, I’m beyond proud of how well Magnolia handled everything. She nearly broke my hand squeezing it so hard and screamed in my ear for a solid thirty minutes, but she never gave up. She put every ounce of strength she had into pushing through the pain.
I was also pleased with myself at how well I was taking everything in and not letting my emotions take over since I wanted to be strong for Magnolia.
But then they asked if I wanted to cut the umbilical cord and that’s when I lost it. Magnolia cried as soon as she saw Willow and then there was no chance of me keeping it together anymore.
After they cleaned Willow up and got her wrapped in a blanket, Magnolia got to hold her for the first time. Watching the love of my life become a mother is a moment I’ll never forget.
When Fisher and Noah showed up a few hours later to visit, her water ended up breaking, and they took her into her own delivery room. Four hours later, Poppy Underwood was born.
Now our girls share the same birthday.
My family, Magnolia’s dad, and Ms. Boone all came before visiting hours ended.
Jade cried when she heard Willow’s middle name was after her.
Mr. Sutherland teared up as he held her. He and Magnolia shared a sweet father-daughter moment together.
Landen walked in wearing a black T-shirt with “The Godfather” written on it and then made me take his photo with the baby for his new dating profile picture.
Waylon was too scared to hold her.
Two seconds after I put her in Wilder’s arms, she spat up breast milk all over him.
Needless to say, it was the best day of my life.
After my parents visited us, they were able to go next door and meet their other granddaughter.
Two in one day.
The luckiest grandparents in the world.
“Alright, Willow. You wanna help me surprise your mama? We gotta take your picture.”
After Magnolia fell asleep, I put her in the onesie I secretly packed. The framed painting she surprised me with that’s now hanging in Willow’s nursery is what inspired this idea to go along with the scrapbook. This photo is the final touch, and then I can give it to her.
Carefully, I set Willow down in the little bassinet and pray she stays asleep while I get the shot. Luckily, I do without waking her up. Dad win.
When Noah came up to visit, she brought me my secret bag with everything I’d need, including my polaroid camera, the scrapbook, and double-sided tape.
“Perfect,” I tell her when the image clears. “You look so cute.”
I can’t help gushing at how adorable she is. Magnolia really said copy/paste.
Once I wrap Willow back up into her blanket, I grab the scrapbook and tape her photo on the final page.
Underneath the photo, I write all of her newborn stats: date and time of birth, weight, and height.
But I have a feeling it’s going to be what’s written on her onesie that’ll either have her squealing or crying.
Probably both.
Willow wakes up to eat thirty minutes later, and Magnolia breastfeeds like a pro. Well, a pro for as well as she knows how to. From what she’s told me, it hurts like a bitch and feels like Willow has teeth.
She switches Willow to her other side, and we chat until she’s done, then I offer to burp her.
“Remember that gift I mentioned a couple of weeks ago?” I ask Magnolia, and she nods. “I brought it with me.”
“You did?” Her eyes light up. “Do I get to see it now?”
“Yep.”
I put Willow in her bassinet, still wrapped up, and then grab it from my bag.
“I made you something.” I set it in her lap, then sit next to her on the bed.
“Oh my gosh. A scrapbook?”
“Of your pregnancy,” I confirm. “I found this beautiful picture from the ranch and the pink sunset reminded me of you.”
“It did?”
“Every time I’d come across that photo during family scrapbook night, it made me smile. There was just somethin’ about it, the contrast between the greens and pinks, the beauty in that one image just made me happy anytime I saw it. So finally, I took it for myself and decided that’s what I wanted on the cover until we had a family photo to replace it. But yeah, it gives me the same feeling as when I look at you.”
“Tripp Chattanooga Hollis,” she weeps, reaching up to touch my cheek. “I’ve cried enough today. But that’s seriously so sweet. I love it.”
Then her fingers play with the little decorative wheat pieces surrounding the photo, and she smiles when she sees the flower.
“A little sunflower.” Her eyes gloss over and she sticks out her lower lip. “You thought of every little detail, didn’t you?”
“Noah might’ve helped me a little, but I’m takin’ credit for ninety-eight percent of it.”
As soon as she opens to the first page, her eyes widen and she covers her mouth. “Look at my little belly,” she coos.
“Only ten weeks.”
She touches the image and then reads what I wrote underneath.
“Tripp, this is so freakin’ sweet.”
She flips to the next page and reads it again.
“Eleven weeks.”
Flips again.
“Twelve weeks.” Then she looks at me. “Did you do every single week?”
“Of course. Up until her birth, actually.”
“You’re jokin’.”
She continues to flip through each page, laughing and crying when she reads the notes and reminisces about the size of her bump.
“Oh, my chocolate ice cream and pretzel phase.” She giggles when she remembers some of her cravings. “Can’t ever go wrong with a sweet and salty combo.”
“Unless it’s two in the morning and we’re out of ice cream…”
“Whoops.” She smirks. “But you were so nice to get me some.”
When she gets to the thirty-eight-week photo, it’s of her in the nursery for the first time. We’ve busted ass the past two weeks to get it ready. Laundry, organizing the closet and dresser, putting out all the diapers, and decorating it exactly how she wanted—in light pink, yellow, and white. She wanted it bright and homey.
My heart rate ramps up a notch when she goes to the next one. Thirty-nine weeks.
The week of Braxton hicks and lower back pain.
“I can’t believe that was only seven days ago.” She shakes her head.
The next page has two photos.
On the left side, her bump at forty weeks before she went into labor, and on the right is the photo of Willow in her special onesie.
She flips the page, and her smile widens as her eyes dance across the pages. Until it lands on Willow and she reads what her onesie says.
Her gaze snaps to mine, and her mouth falls open. “When did you take this photo?”
“Earlier when you were sleepin’.”
She looks back down at it and blinks. “Will you marry my daddy?” She reads it aloud. “Is that really what it says?”
My face splits in half at how stunned she is.
I pull out her ring from my pocket and hold it out for her to see. “Willow really wants her mommy and daddy to be married. She told me.”
She chokes out a sob. “Is that so? Our one-day-old baby said that?”
“Oh, she told me weeks ago. You were asleep, but we were up late chattin’, and it’s what she demanded, so I said okay, I’ll go buy a ring. Then we made a plan on how I’d ask, and here we are.”
She squeezes her eyes as she holds back tears.
“That’s pretty impressive of her.”
“She’s a smart baby,” I tease and then take her hand.
“Okay, I’m going to propose for real now.” I place a kiss on her knuckles and give her a wink. “Sunny, I hope you know by now how much I love you. But in case you ever forget, I will spend a lifetime reminding you because you changed my life. You brought light into it and gave it meaning again. You took my demons and made them your own. You make me laugh like no one else ever could. You are truly my best friend. You gave me the greatest gift anyone could ever give me—your love in return. You made me a dad. You gave me our own little family. And I don’t want to spend another day without you as my future wife. So, please…say you’ll marry me.”
By the time I finish, she’s a sobbing mess. I reach up and wipe her tears, then cup her face.
“Yes.” She nods frantically as she repeats the word over and over. “I’d marry you right now if I could.”
I chuckle as our mouths crash together in a desperate, hot kiss.
“I love you so much,” she whispers against my lips. “But how dare you propose when I’m in a hospital gown? I look like a grandma wearing a moo-moo.”
Pulling back, I rake my eyes over her body. “Well, then you’re a hot grandma because you’re gorgeous.”
Her face drops and she’s anything but amused. “You’re lucky I love you so damn much.”
I slide the ring onto her finger, kiss it, and then kiss her lips again. “Trust me, I know.”
