TW - The end of this chapter does contain brief talk of suicide; it's not detailed or anything it's just talk of it but I wanted to warn just in case.
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To Mom, Dad, Dallas +10 others :
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Introducing Charlotte Bluebell Valderrama. Born at 3:23pm weighing 5lbs 6oz of pure perfection. We are so in love 💗
Placing her phone on the table beside her bed Demi smiles as she glances over at Wilmer who's fast asleep on the sofa; they have a bed he could sleep on but he fell asleep on the sofa and she didn't have the heart to wake him.
'Shhh... Mommy's right here.' Demi says leaning over the plastic cot and lifting Charlotte into her arms. Her whole body aches and she's absolutely exhausted but as she stares down at her baby girl in her arms she wouldn't change a thing.
'She okay?' Wilmer asks sleepily as he lifts his head off the pillow.
'Yeah... You go back to sleep, babe.' Demi replies softly. Cradling Charlotte against her chest she uses her free hand to unclip her nightgown and nursing bra before letting Charlotte latch on. She glances back down at her phone as it vibrates.
From Marissa : No fucking way, congratulations! She's absolutely beautiful, Dems. I can't wait to come meet her 💗 xx
To Marissa : Thank you. We'll hopefully get home in a few days and then you're welcome to come out if you can xxx
From Marissa : Oh I'll definitely be out. She looks absolutely tiny! I'm so happy for you. How are you feeling?xx
To Marissa : I'm good, I'm a bit sore and exhausted but I'll be fine. She was worth it xxx
From Marissa : I'm sure she was. I'll let you get some rest but FaceTime later, yeah?xx
Placing her phone down on the bed she glances down at Charlotte and runs her finger down the little girl's cheek.
'You are so perfect, my little love.' She says softly.
****
'Oh hey, sleepyhead.' Demi says smiling slightly as Wilmer sits up and rubs his eyes.
'I did not mean to sleep that long... What are you doing out of bed?' He asks as she glances back out the window.
'I was showing this one the big world out there, wasn't I?' Demi says turning around to face him with Charlotte cradled against her chest.
'You look amazing for someone who gave birth less than twenty four hours ago.' He says standing up as she makes her way over to him.
'I don't feel amazing.' She admits smiling slightly as he wraps his arms around her.
'You sore?' He asks and she nods her head.
'A little bit.' She replies.
'Why don't you go for a lie down?' He suggests and she shakes her head.
'I'm okay.' She replies.
'She looks just like you.' He says.
'Do you think?' She asks.
'Definitely. Look at those lips, she's so much like you.' He replies running his finger down the baby's cheek.
'I just can't believe she's actually ours.' She admits causing him to smile.
'I can't wait until we can get her home and properly settle in at home just the three of us.' He says.
'Is it bad that the thought of going home terrifies me?' She asks and he pulls back to look at her.
'Why does it scare you?' He asks.
'Because at least while we're here the doctors and nurses are only a buzzer away if something goes wrong. What if we take her home and I fuck up?' She says biting her bottom lip.
'You're not going to fuck up, Demi. She's not even twenty four hours old and already you are a fantastic mom... Look how content she is in your arms? That's because she feels safe and loved; she knows you're her mom.' He replies.
'Well what if she hates me?' She asks and he shakes his head.
'Stop overthinking things. You're doing great, Dems. We'll take things one day at a time, okay? I've got a few months off so you're not going to be on your own.' He replies as she sighs.
'Can you take her for a bit?' She asks and he nods his head. She passes Charlotte to him before making her way back over to the window.
'I thought it would easier once she was born. I thought everything we'd been through would disappear and it would be like it had never happened but it's not; it still hurts. I look at her and I think that we should have a three year old at home waiting to meet their little sister. I fall asleep and dream of you leaving; I dream of you walking out the door and leaving me with the baby. I'm scared I'll never be over any of this. I'm scared that it's always going to hurt this much.' She admits as he moves towards her.
'Why didn't you say anything?' He asks and she shrugs her shoulders.
'I don't want to keep bringing up the past and make you resent me for it. I know we can't change the miscarriage and I know that you had your reasons for leaving but I don't know.' She replies shaking her head. Reaching out he places his hand on her shoulder causing her to pull away from him.
'Don't hug me... If you hug me I'll cry and I don't want to cry.' She says.
'I need you to talk to me about these things or this will never work between us, Demi. You know bottling things up inside doesn't help our relationship or the way you feel. This isn't just about us anymore.' He says glancing down at Charlotte.
'I'm sorry.' She replies.
'Don't apologise for the way you feel. I know when I left it hurt you and I know that it has affected you in more ways than you've told me about but I want you to know that I'm not going anywhere. It's going to be me, you and Charlotte against the world from now on, okay?' He says causing her to sigh.
'When you left I felt like I wasn't good enough; I spent hours just trying to figure out what I'd done that made you not want to fight for us. I wanted to hate you so badly because that would've been a whole lot easier than loving you but I couldn't. I am 99% sure that if I wasn't pregnant I would've killed myself that day... I'm not saying this to make you feel guilty, you want me to talk to you honestly so I'm talking. I didn't want to live anymore. That night I sat in the middle of the bed and it would've been so easy; I could've ended it all and no one would've found me until it was too late but she stopped me. I knew I had a little life growing inside of me and although I very briefly considered abortion, I loved her so much that I could never have ended my own life and hers at the same time.' She says quietly.
