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Riding In Cars With Boys

Part Two: Bringing Home Baby

After months of preparation and two days at the hospital, today is the day that you finally get to bring your son home. You have his car seat already strapped in the back next to Cece's, and he and Pam are waiting for you at the hospital's side entrance, sitting on the bench just outside the doors when you pull up to the curb.

It's a scene that looks similar to one you experienced almost two years ago with your newborn daughter; only this time, Pam has the baby dressed in layers and tucked inside her coat, and you knew to bring the car around and to secure the car seat without being told by medical personnel. It's all a little different, but not by much—those nervous-yet-excited butterflies from when you first brought Cece home are the same, as is that nameless blend of love, pride, and amazement that surfaces when you look at your wife cradling your tiny baby as you climb out of the car.

She has that same soft smile on her face when she looks up at you—so clearly in love with your new little one and so blissfully happy that even though you kissed her not even ten minutes ago, you just can't help yourself.

"Careful," she warns with a quiet giggle against your lips. "He's sleeping."

And sure enough, when you peer down, your baby boy wrinkles his forehead at the disturbance and squirms against her chest.

"Oops. Sorry, little guy," you apologize, gently rubbing his back through the makeshift cocoon she has created for him as he manages a sleepy whine. "Just excited to bring you home, that's all."

Pam calms him effortlessly, holding him closer and swaying a little to let him know he is safe, and you fall in love with her a little more. Seeing her as a mother just amazes you. She has come so far from being that girl who claimed to be terrible with children and that new mother who feared in those first twenty-four hours that she wouldn't even be able to handle simple tasks like feeding or swaddling her baby. She is such a natural now, and you take a mental snapshot as she kisses the top of his head through his sky blue hooded sweatshirt (complete with bear ears on top—she saw it one day and just couldn't pass it up).

When a gust of cold wind suddenly hits, she instinctively shields him.

"Let's get in the car, okay?" She whispers to him. "Daddy's got it all warmed up for us."

You open the door to the backseat and help them inside, watching as Pam carefully unwraps the baby from a couple of his layers and places him delicately into his car seat. He barely stirs, even as she secures his seatbelt and tucks a blanket over him while you stand speechless in the doorway, not even thinking about the fact that you're letting freezing air into the car. You just want to watch every second. You don't want to miss anything.

"All settled?" You ask as a shiver runs through your body.

She smiles down at Philip and then looks up at you a little teary-eyed. "I love you," she squeaks.

It's not really an answer to your question, but you'll use anything as an opportunity to wrap your arms around her and tell her that you love her, especially on a day like today.

"Love you, too," you murmur into her hair.

You can't thank her enough for the sleepy little boy in the car and the spirited little girl waiting for you at home. Everything she went through for them and for you just leaves you in awe— hours upon hours of labor with Cece, and then just the opposite with Philip, who arrived too fast for an epidural. She felt every last bit of everything this time and yet somehow remained relatively calm throughout it all. Truth be told, you had an internal freak-out when they informed her that it was too late for any form of chemical pain relief, but she seemed to accept the news almost immediately and without question (she just wanted that baby out). You, on the other hand, had to ask two nurses and her doctor if they were absolutely sure because you just hate seeing your wife in pain.

Luckily, it didn't last long; Philip was out in only a fraction of the time that it took his sister, but you are so proud of Pam for getting through it the way she did. Sure, billions of women have given birth naturally, but actually watching your wife endure it herself was pretty incredible. Not that Cece's birth wasn't incredible, too, but there was just something so amazing about how composed and focused Pam was this time that has given you a renewed appreciation for what she has been through to give you your children.

As you told her later that day, even if you had the necessary parts, you don't think you could have handled something like that nearly as well.

The two of you share one last kiss, and then it's time to bring your little one home.

xx

At every red light, you turn around to see how they are doing. Pam meets your eyes about half the time, but other times, she doesn't even seem to notice that the car has stopped moving. She looks like she is in another world, just gazing down at her baby boy adoringly as she rests her left hand inside his car seat. The smile on her face is just beautiful, so serene and loving, and it makes your heart swell. She is completely absorbed in him. And you really can't blame her because you can't wait to get him home so that you can just stare at him, too. You have been so excited to meet him, and now you can look at him, hold him, and love him all the time because he's here and he's your son.

It's silly, but you were a little afraid of him at first, kind of like you were with Cece. When he was first born, he seemed to immediately know Pam and her voice, but it wasn't quite the same when it was your turn to hold him. He fussed when you talked, and even when you were silent, he wasn't nearly as calm in your arms as he was in Pam's. And then there is also the fact that you are so used to taking care of an increasingly-independent toddler that just the sight of this tiny, helpless little baby was intimidating. When Cece came in to meet him, she suddenly seemed like a giant, and it seemed impossible that she was ever this tiny.

Thankfully, during his first night, something kicked in. You sat at the foot of Pam's bed and held him against your chest after a 2 am feeding, and with his ear pressed over your heart and your hand cupping his head, you started humming. It wasn't even any particular tune, but not long after you began, he sighed, almost like an, Oh, hi, I remember you, from all those weeks that you talked to him with your lips against his mother's belly. At that moment, he seemed to cuddle into you more closely, and ever since, you haven't doubted your bond.

Everyone seems to have an opinion on what a father-son bond should be, though. Starting before he was born, people would ask, "Oh, aren't you so excited to have a boy this time?" and say things like, "I bet it will be nice to have another guy in the house." Your brothers even make jokes about how they didn't think you had it in you to impregnate your wife with a boy and that you must be more of a man than they thought, but the thing is— you really don't see things that way. You honestly would have been happy with a boy or a second girl, and all this talk about how, as a man, you should somehow value a son more makes you a little uncomfortable. After all, you are proud of Philip not because he is a he, but simply because he is your child. Sure, you'll take him camping, play catch, watch sports, and sign him up for t-ball, but those were things you planned to do with Cece as well. As he grows, you will teach him how to treat girls and how to be a good man, but really, what you are most looking forward to is just getting to know him for who he is. Watching Cece become her own little person has been such an amazing part of being her dad, and you know that your experience with Philip will be every bit as rewarding.

"You're grinning like crazy person up there," Pam teases when you stop at another red light.

"Can't help it," you laugh, turning around.

"I know," she beams at you before tilting her head back down to look at the baby. "He's just so…"

She trails off dreamily, unable to find a word that accurately describes your son as she bites her lip and shakes her head. She is in love, and you love that about her.

"Yeah," you agree, understanding her sentiment even though she can't seem to give it a name. "He really is."

She meets your eyes again, and you share what seems like the hundredth 'wow, we did it' look in the last forty-eight hours. You stop to take in her appearance now—soft, rounded features, over-the-moon happy, and even more gorgeous than the day you met her— and you think to yourself, 'Two children. I have two children with this woman.'

You are a lucky man, and you know it.

"Babe?"

"Huh?"

"Light's green," she giggles. "Get it together, Halpert."

You laugh and somewhat reluctantly return your eyes to the road, driving a few more blocks before making the right hand turn onto the road that holds so many childhood memories, heading toward the house you have known your entire life. You learned to ride a bike on the sidewalks now running parallel to your car, you learned to drive your mom's station wagon on this street, and now, as a grown man, you are bringing your second child, your precious baby boy, home.

As you gently pull the car into park, you turn back and smile, "Welcome home, Philip."