There was something about his certainty that actually made me uneasy.
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And months later, the doctor confirmed it.
We were having a boy.
Mark sat silently in the car afterward, then covered his face with his hands and began to cry.
I had never seen him like that before.
“Finally,” he whispered.
That one word hurt me.
Finally?
Then what were our four daughters?
I didn’t want to argue.
I wanted to believe that he was simply overwhelmed with emotion.
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The delivery was long and difficult.
When I finally heard my son’s first cry, I closed my eyes and burst into tears.
“He’s a healthy baby boy,” the doctor said.
We named him Luke.
A few minutes later, the nurse wrapped Luke in a blanket and walked over to Mark.
“Dad, are you ready to hold your son for the first time?”
The smile I had been waiting to see throughout my entire pregnancy appeared on Mark’s face.
He held out his arms.
The nurse placed Luke in them.
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For the first two seconds, everything seemed perfect.
Mark was smiling.
Then suddenly, his expression changed.
He pulled the baby a little closer.