Tangled Hearts.

~Chapter 58~

~Emily~

~November 16th~

The sunshine streamed through the hospital window, casting a warm glow over the room as I cradled Aspen in my arms. It was a bittersweet moment, knowing that our little family was about to leave the safety of the hospital nest after 3 days.

Colby had just stepped out to get the car seat, and Isa, bless her heart, was keeping me company going back and forth between here and the trap house, chattering away about how she couldn't wait to spoil her new niece.

"You're going to be the best aunt, Isa," I told her, smiling down at Aspen, who was snuggled contentedly against me. Isa beamed. "I've already got so many ideas for her first birthday party! But first, we've got to get you two home."

Just then, Colby walked back in, car seat in hand, a look of pure fatherly pride on his face. "Ready to go home, my girls?" he asked, his voice filled with emotion.

I nodded, feeling a lump form in my throat. "More than ready."

~

As Colby secured the car seat, I gently placed Aspen inside, tucking the soft beige onesie around her and adjusting the big bow headband that was just a tad too big for her tiny head. She fussed for a moment before settling down, her little eyes blinking up at us.

"Look at her, Colby. She's perfect," I whispered, feeling a surge of love so strong it was almost overwhelming. Colby reached over and squeezed my hand. "She gets that from her mom," he said with a wink.

We shared a laugh, the sound mingling with the soft coos of Aspen. As we made our way out of the hospital room, I couldn't help feel a sense of adventure awaiting us. The beginning of something truly wonderful.

"Home awaits, Aspen," I said softly, as we started our journey back to where the rest of our lives awaited.

~

The ride had been so peaceful, a bubble of bliss as we left the hospital, heading back to the trap house.

Colby was at the helm, Isa riding shotgun, and there I was in the back with our little Aspen, snug in her car seat.

I remember thinking, "This is it, the start of our new chapter."

But then, the unmistakable sound of baby retching filled the car. "blasted," Isa murmured, turning around just in time to see the catastrophe unfold.

Aspen had managed to create a modern art masterpiece with her vomit, splattering the car seat, her clothes... everything. Colby's blue eyes met mine in the rearview mirror, a mix of horror and humor. "Code green," he announced, as we pulled over with military precision.

In the safety of a parking lot, we embarked on the great clean-up. I was elbow-deep in baby wipes, Isa was holding up a tiny onesie like it was a biohazard, and Colby... well, he was trying not to laugh as he wielded a diaper like a defusing a bomb.

"Eau de baby puke," he joked, wrinkling his nose.

Aspen, meanwhile, had turned into a tiny, wailing siren. Her cries were the soundtrack to our chaos.

"I think she's singing the song of her people," Isa said, trying to soothe her with funny faces. We had gotten her cleaned up as well as the car seat and were now back on the road.

Aspen still cried. Nothing worked. The cries intensified, and we were at a loss. But then, a lightbulb moment from Colby.

"Babe, what about that song you wrote for her? 'Miracle Baby'?" I hesitated, my heart aflutter.

It was personal, something I had poured my soul into while Penny was still a bump.

But what did we have to lose?

I found the track on my phone and hit play. The melody filled the car, a lullaby that seemed to reach straight into Aspen's heart.

Her cries subsided, replaced by curious coos. I started singing along, tears streaming down my face as the lyrics flowed...

"You're our little miracle, the light in my life..."

Aspen's tiny hand wrapped around my finger, her grip strong. I looked into her eyes, so like my own, and felt a connection deeper than anything I'd known.

"She likes it!" Isa exclaimed, and even Colby had to blink back his emotions.

We spent the rest of the car listening to my music as we headed back home. Even though it was chaotic, I wouldn't have it any other way.