Chapter 22 - CLARA
Our daughter arrived at thirty-nine weeks.
Clara Rose Croft.
I kept Croft.
Some relatives expected Caravetta.
No.
My marriage ending did not require changing my child’s surname into a flag.
Labor lasted thirteen hours.
Lucio sat in a waiting room and followed instructions with visible suffering.
My best friend stayed with me.
Nathan knew labor had begun because my lawyer sent the agreed notice.
I had decided he could visit after delivery for thirty minutes if everything was medically stable.
My choice.
No Diana.
No extended family.
Clara arrived crying.
Seven pounds, one ounce.
Healthy.
I held her against my chest.
The first thought I had was not about Nathan.
Or Diana.
Or Lucio.
It was:
Her ear is folded.
The nurse laughed when I said it.
“It’ll unfold.”
It did.
Nathan came the next afternoon.
He washed his hands.
Sat.
I handed Clara to him.
He cried.
I did not.
That was fine.
He whispered:
“Hi, Clara.”
Then looked at me.
“Thank you.”
“Do not make this about permission.”
He nodded.
“Right.”
Better.
He held his daughter for twenty minutes.
No speech about being a family.
No attempt to touch me.
May you like
When the nurse said visiting time was finished, he returned Clara immediately.
That mattered more than any letter.
