I sighed with delight, imagining that I could live there indefinitely on the monitor, listening to its quiet beeping, and knowing with great certainty that my Sweet Pea was alive.
Ten centimeters, she said, but there was something off about her voice. Ten centimeters, but I can't feel the head anymore. It's not in your pelvis.
What was happening? What was I preparing to do? I really don't think I knew.
Can you feel this? he asked.
And the doctor looked, and he did, he carried the little vernix-covered boy over to me, and he laid him gently next to my face.
I was still wearing an oxygen mask, so they couldn't hear me, but Liam heard me. I said, I want to kiss him, and when I spoke, Liam stopped crying, and he looked at me then, and so I said it again, and they heard me that time and moved my mask.
I kissed my new little boy, kissed his little, wet face for the first time and knew it was real.
Later, as a true reader will do, a chapter title came to my head to describe this day, and it was from Chapter One of the very first Harry Potter book:
The Boy Who Lived
And that was my Liam.