Two hours later Dawn was sitting in semi-fowlers positions, with her mother on her right side, husband on the left, and best friend was doing a great job at keeping things under control. Mariyah was giving her a light shoulder and back massage with the cooling oils she brought.
Dakota was sitting on the end of the bed with Dawn, playing Call Of Duty Black Ops VI on his PlayStation Portal. Her contractions began again.
Dawn felt a sharp pang in her abdomen, signaling the beginning of labor. She squeezed her partner's hand and let out a deep breath, bracing herself for the hours ahead. Her husband, Dakota, looked into her eyes with a mix of concern and determination, whispering words of encouragement. Her mother, Lydia, held her other hand and stroked her hair gently, her presence offering comfort and stability.
Mariyah, her best friend, was busy setting up the room, preparing everything they might need. She had placed the cooling oils on the table nearby and was arranging the pillows and blankets to ensure Dawn's comfort. Despite the chaos, Mariyahs calm demeanor was a soothing balm to Dawn's frayed nerves.
Suddenly, the room's atmosphere shifted; it was as if a cold breeze had swept through. Dawn felt a chill run down her spine. She tried to shake off the sensation, but the eerie feeling persisted. She closed her eyes, hoping for relief, but instead, she heard faint, distant cries. They were haunting, echoing from a place of deep sorrow and loss. It was the sound of her past miscarriage, a ghostly reminder of the baby she had once lost.
The cries grew louder, filling the room with an unsettling presence. Dawn's breath quickened, and she felt a wave of panic wash over her. Lydia noticed the change and leaned in closer, whispering soothing words and trying to ground her daughter. Dakota tightened his grip on Dawn's hand, his face etched with worry as he watched her struggle with the invisible torment.
Mariyah paused, sensing the shift in the room's energy. She approached Dawn and began massaging her shoulders with the cooling oils, hoping to distract her from the haunting cries. "Focus on your breathing, Dawn. You're doing great," M said softly, her voice steady and reassuring.
As the contractions intensified, Dawn fought to keep her mind on the present, determined to bring her baby into the world. The cries seemed to grow more distant, though they still lingered at the edge of her consciousness, a stubborn reminder of the past. Her mother's touch and her husband's presence helped anchor her, providing a beacon of hope amidst the turmoil.
Minutes turned into hours, and Dawn's labor progressed. The hospital’s midwife arrived, offering guidance and support, but it was the combined efforts of Lydia, Dakota, and Mariyah that truly made a difference. They rallied around Dawn, their love and strength forming a protective circle that warded off the specters of her past.
With each push, Dawn could feel the presence of her lost child, almost as if they were urging her on, encouraging her to bring their sibling into the world. The paranormal cries faded, replaced by the sounds of this new life entering the room. Dawn's baby was born, their cries filling the space with hope and promise.
Exhausted but elated, Dawn held her newborn close, tears of joy streaming down her face. Lydia kissed her daughter's forehead, Dakota hugged them both, and Mariyah wiped away her own tears, grateful to have been part of this incredible moment. The shadows of the past had finally receded, replaced by the light of a new beginning.
“Wahhhhh” The midwife was holding their new baby boy and the cries they all heard filled the room with hope and love.
“Would you like to cut the Umbilical cord, dad?” Offering him the scissors.
Dakota smiled remembering all of his other children’s births and was filled with extreme happiness.
After he cut the umbilical cord, he stashed the scissors away in his bag and grabbed a gift for the family.
While the midwife and all the other staff cleaned up the newborn baby boy, Dakota smiled cheekily as he passed out personalized hats for everyone. Each hat was blue and white with little yellow stars. Gammy, God Mom, Daddy, Mommy, and even one for the little peanut. His was a little blue beanie with yellow stars that read “Peanut”.
“Oh my gosh honey this is so cute and sweet!” Dawn was surprised. Everyone was pleased and happily wore their hats.
The midwife wrapped the newborn in the hospital blankie then handed him over to “mom”. Dakota gently slipped the beanie on his son. With tears in everyones’ eyes, they watched this beautiful moment.
Moments later, Dawn cradled her newborn son, her hands trembling slightly with the overwhelming surge of emotions. She looked into his eyes, which were still closed as he adjusted to his new surroundings. Tears streamed down her face, mingling with the sweat from her labor.
"My sweet boy," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "You have no idea how much you're loved. We've all been waiting for you, praying for your safe arrival."
She kissed his forehead gently, her lips brushing against his soft skin. "You're perfect, just perfect," she continued, her voice barely more than a breath. "I promise you, I'll do everything to protect you, to keep you safe. You mean the world to me."
The room was filled with a warm, golden light, the afternoon sun casting gentle shadows across the walls. The midwife and other hospital staff moved quietly around them, cleaning up and attending to the necessary tasks, but Dawn was entirely absorbed in her newborn son.
She held him close, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. "You're here now, and nothing bad will touch you. We've left the darkness behind us."
With each word, she hugged him tighter, her tears of joy falling onto his tiny face. "You are so loved, my precious peanut," she murmured, kissing his cheeks, his nose, and his little hands.
Dakota stepped closer, wrapping his arms around Dawn and their baby, adding his support and warmth to the moment. The couple gazed at their son, united in their love and gratitude for his safe arrival.
The room exuded tranquility and affection, with the shadows of previous times replaced by the radiance of a fresh start. Each tear shed reflected the challenges overcome, while each kiss signified a commitment to a more promising and joyful future.
Mariyah and Lydia gave the two new parents some privacy.
Dawn perked out her boob to breast feed their newborn. She was quite excited to be able to feed her son. She was elated. She felt as if she was finally fulfilling her reason for being on Earth and doing what God intended women to do.
As Dawn and Dakota basked in the joy of their newborn’s presence, a gentle knock on the door interrupted their moment. It was Dawn’s mother, who had been anxiously waiting outside. She entered the room, her face lighting up with a smile at the sight of her daughter and grandson.
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“Oh, Dawn, he’s absolutely beautiful,” she whispered, tears welling up in her eyes. “Can I hold him?”
Dawn nodded, carefully placing her baby in her mother’s arms. “Mom, meet your grandson, Neil.”
Dawn’s mother cradled Neil tenderly, marveling at his tiny fingers and delicate features. “Welcome to the world, little Neil. You have so much love surrounding you already.”
Dakota smiled, wrapping his arm around Dawn. “We couldn’t have done this without you, Mom. Your support means everything to us.”
“Thank you, Dakota,” she replied, her voice filled with emotion. “I’m so proud of both of you. You’re going to be amazing parents.”
As they shared this special moment, the door opened again, and a nurse walked in with a tray of food. “It’s time for you to eat something, Dawn. You’ve been through a lot, and you need to keep your strength up.”
“Thank you,” Dawn said, accepting the tray. She glanced at the baby in her mother’s arms and smiled. “I can’t believe he’s finally here.”
The nurse set the tray down and checked on the baby. “He’s doing great, and so are you. Just take it easy and enjoy these precious moments.”
Dawn nodded, feeling a wave of gratitude wash over her. She reached out to touch Neils tiny hand, and he grasped her finger with surprising strength. “You have no idea how much we love you,” she whispered, her heart full of love and hope for the future.
As the afternoon turned into evening, the room remained filled with warmth and love. Family and friends came and went, each one adding their blessings and joy to the new parents and their baby. Dawn and Dakota took turns holding Neil, marveling at every little movement and sound he made.
“You know,” Dakota said softly, “I think he’s going to have your smile.”
Dawn laughed, brushing a tear from her cheek. “And your eyes.”
They sat together, gazing at their son, dreaming of the future they would build as a family. The challenges they had faced melted away, replaced by the promise of a new beginning, filled with love, laughter, and endless possibilities.
As the evening grew darker, laughter and conversation filled the room. Dawn’s close friends arrived to share this joyous occasion. Among them was her best friend, Mariah, who had always been there for her. “Congratulations, Dawn!” Mariah exclaimed, hugging her tightly. “Neil is absolutely beautiful.”
Mariah came bearing food that was definitely not that disgusting hospital food. She put the bag of food on the table next to the hospital’s dinner tray. It was a Pacific Breeze Grill to go bag. Dawn had not even noticed. She was lost in her sons’ eyes and the feeling of his tiny fingers wrapped around hers.
“Can we trade? I give your daughter food, and you let me hold that precious little boy”
Lydia did not want to let her first grandbaby go. She wanted to hold on to this moment forever. She would not get another “first grandbaby” She looked at Dawn with that “Do I have to?” face.
Dawn was already opening the restaurant containers, nodding her head at her mother. “Yes mamma, let Mariah meet and hold him. Mar, you know me so well. This steak, shrimp, and lobster looks delicious!”
“There’s another container in there too, for Dakota.” Mariyah replied as she reached out to grab the baby from Lydia.
Suddenly Mariyah became nervous. She had not held a newborn baby since…well in this moment she could not even remember the last time she held a newborn. This was not any baby though. This is her God son, and she knew it. She held the baby in her arms cradling him.
She carefully held his head, knowing newborns cannot support their own heads until they are three to six months. Dawn and her had done a lot of research in the last eight months.
“Hi, I am your auntie Mariyah. I am your God mom. Do you know what that means? For now, it means whenever they say no candy or snacks before bedtime, you call your auntie Mar, and I will take care of them. No, your mommy and daddy love you so much they prayed for you for years! I am sure they will spoil you rotten.” Mariyah spoke to him softly.
Dawn and Dakota scarfed down their food. “You act like you have not been snacking all day.” She teased him as she finished, demanding to hold Neil in her arms.
A Certified Nurse Aide came knocking on the door reluctant to tell the new mom that she needed to take the baby for the usual admittance testing. Dawn looked down at her son and reassured him, “You are perfect my little peanut. No testing will say otherwise.” She was trying to reassure herself. Not knowing why they had miscarried three times prior, she was filled with worry. There is no telling what the tests could say about him. He seems perfect.
Dakota cradled his newborn son with a gentle yet steady grip, instinctively supporting the fragile weight of his tiny head with the curve of his palm. Though his hands were large, roughened from years of work, they moved with remarkable tenderness—fingers adjusting to the delicate balance of holding someone so impossibly small. His heartbeat thrummed in his ears as he glanced down, his son’s face still scrunched in newborn protest, his limbs curled in reflexive trust.
As he passed the baby to the nurse, Dakota hesitated for the briefest moment, his fingers lingering just long enough to feel the warmth of his child before letting go. A silent promise was made in that pause—a vow woven into the first seconds of fatherhood.
The hospital room hums with quiet exhaustion—Dawn resting against the pillows, Dakota standing at the bedside, one hand gripping the metal railing as if it anchors him in place. The air is thick with the surreal aftershock of labor, yet nothing could prepare them for what comes next.
The door creaks open, and Dr. Quentin steps inside, cradling their newborn son in her arms. The baby is swaddled snugly, tiny face peeking out, his dark eyes wide and searching. The doctor’s expression is carefully neutral, but there is a weight behind her eyes, a hesitation as she crosses the room.
She offers the baby first. Dakota reaches out, and as the child settles into his arms, Dawn stirs, shifting up just enough to brush her fingers over the soft curve of her son’s cheek. The baby makes a quiet noise, his small hands curling instinctively at the warmth of his parents.
Dr. Quentin watches them for a beat—then exhales, folding her hands together.
“Mr. and Mrs. Hawthorne,” she begins, measured yet undeniably cautious. “We’ve completed the routine post-birth screenings, but… there are anomalies. Findings that, quite frankly, defy standard medical explanation.”
Dawn stiffens. Dakota tightens his hold on the baby.
“What do you mean?” Dakota’s voice is steady, but there’s an edge to it—a father bracing against the unknown.
Dr. Quentin does not waste time. She retrieves a file from the counter, flipping through the results, her fingers lingering over the printouts before she speaks.
“Your son’s DNA sequence isn’t static.” A pause. “It contains genetic markers that do not match human records. When analyzed, the sequences…” she hesitates, searching for the right words, “…shift.”
Dawn’s breath catches. “Shift?”
Dr. Quentin nods. “They change upon repeated observation. At first, the markers resemble standard familial inheritance—you, Mr. Hawthorne, and your wife. But when reanalyzed, the sequences adjust. It’s almost as if—” she falters, eyes flicking to the baby, “—as if something is adapting. Merging. And then the most unusual part—”
She flips the page.
“Two distinct genetic traces appear, but they aren’t yours.”
Silence.
Dakota’s grip on his son tightens instinctively. Dawn’s eyes glisten, her lips parting slightly, a whisper caught in her throat.
“Who do they belong to?” Dawn finally asks.
Dr. Quentin’s voice is softer now. “There’s no logical explanation, but they match sequences that shouldn’t exist—fragments aligned with lost pregnancies. They are faint, incomplete, but undeniably present.”
The room feels smaller, heavier. Dawn brings a trembling hand to her mouth.
“Harmony and Precious” she breathes, the names barely escaping her lips.
Dr. Quentin nods as if she expected the reaction.
“That isn’t all.” She moves around the bed, gesturing carefully toward the baby’s bare skin. “We noticed two distinct markings—here, just under his ribs.”
She gently lifts the newborn’s swaddle, revealing two faint yet perfectly etched initials—HH and PH. They are impossibly natural, almost delicate in their placement, neither raised nor scarred. Just… there. As if woven into him before birth.
Dakota stares, his jaw tight, his breath uneven. Dawn lets out a quiet, choked sound—a mix of awe, sorrow, and something deeper.
Dr. Quentin steps back, giving them space. “I don’t have answers for what this means. Medically, it’s uncharted. But one thing is certain—your son carries traces of what was lost.”
A pause.
“As if they never truly left.”
The baby stirs in Dakota’s arms, his small fingers twitching. Dawn reaches for him, pressing her forehead gently to his, a silent connection passing between mother and child. Dakota remains motionless, his thoughts a storm of emotion, but his grip never falters.
The past and present, the seen and unseen, now bound in one tiny existence.