“I just wanted your mother to be here with us today. Wanted her to see how beautiful you look. Wanted her to see how much I love you.” I whisper to her.
Ilaria turns, wrapping me in her arms before letting go, leaning against me so I can hold her as we watch the fireworks together. See the beauty at the end of the night.
Home is a person. Happiness is a person. Love is a person.
And my person will always be Ilaria.
Until death do us part, moglia mia.
DANTETWO YEARS LATER
“Sammie, so help me god, if you don’t stop taking pictures of my vagina I’m going to wrap the baby’s umbilical cord around your throat and choke you out.”
My wife is in labor and apparently pushing a tiny human out of her puts her in one of the worst moods I’ve ever seen her in which is impressive because she really believes in our wedding vows of good times and bad.
This is all exasperated by her four best friends all being crammed into a delivery room with four different personalities all trying to enjoy the moment with their friend as well as coach her through this as her own personal cheerleaders.
I still feel like an outsider with them because their bond is so special.
But my wife would kill me if I had said that it should just be the two of us in here together.
Tessa swipes the camera from Sammie, snapping a picture of the chaos that is in the room as I think about how this is going to be the strangest baby book that ever existed.
“Do you think it’s a boy or girl?”
Becca is running a cool cloth over Ilaria’s brow as my wife squeezes my hand, a finger cracking as she makes a soft sound as a contraction hits her and her breathing turns harsh.
She doesn’t seem to hear her friend who is staying the calmest in the situation. Knowing better than to just talk as Ilaria is trying to make it through this.
The door flies open as Maddie comes in, dragging a nurse behind her.
“Get it out of her.”
‘It’ is my child but I appreciate how concerned all the girls are for their friend. And even Ilaria gives Maddie a look for referring to our child as an it but she doesn’t say anything as the nurse looks between my wife’s legs.
“I’m going to throw up.” Ilaria says it so calmly and I look at her, eyes widening as she takes a deep breath and a sip of water that Tessa is holding out for her.
“You can vomit after you push. Your baby is crowning. Press the button, sir. The doctor will need to come in.”
Ilaria looks at me, her eyes wide with the first sense of fear that she has shown this whole time. But she doesn’t say anything as I press the button, moving back to hold her hand as all her friends surround her to offer her comfort.
Including Sammie who is now videotaping the birth of my child from between my wives legs because she wants to make sure she remembers everything.
“You’re doing so good, Ilaria.” I praise her, eyes only on her as the sweat from pain and exhaustion leaks down her hairline. All her prettty curls up in a bun.
She brings my hand up to her mouth, planting a kiss on my knuckles, as she bares down, pushing so hard that sweat forms on her brows now.
She kisses me, thinking of me in the moment she is making me a father. My other hand is in my pocket, going over each bead of my rosary as I pray for the safety of my family.
My heart hammers at this, moving to look at the head that now is clear. Ilaria looks at me, wanting to know what I can see happening.
“Almost there, moglie mio.”
She trusts me and is quiet as she takes in a breath.
Another push as the doctor walks in as the head of our child comes out. The relief is so visible as Ilaria’s shoulders slump and the baby is suddenly being passed to a nurse.
It’s quiet in the room, the baby not crying before the mouth is suctioned and the shrill whine is heard around the room. Everyone breathing out as they look at the child, all of us wrapped around a tiny figure that is being wiped of blood.
“Congratulations Mr. and Mrs. Luchese, your son is beautiful.”
“You owe me $100 dollars.”
“I said it was a boy.”
“A boy? Look at all that hair.”
“I get to hold him first as his Aunt.”
“We’re all Aunts.”
The girls are all animated as I cut the cord, watching Ilaria be sewn up as she is handed the baby.
Her eyes on our son as something passes over her face. This sense of calm around her as she lowers the front of her gown. The baby already knowing what he wants as he suckles her for the first time.
My wife is beautiful every day but motherhood, Christ does motherhood look good on her.
Her eyes rise, meeting mine as she gives this smile that makes me feel like I’m the one who went through this all. That I’m the one that should be thanked.
“Dante, come look at our son.”
She seems so happy as I look down at him.
All the dark hair on his head which caused Ilaria the worst heartburn of her life. His little lips wrapped around her as he greedily sucks at her, comforted by his mama.
“Ilaria.”
There are tears in my eyes and I’m surprised when she reaches out one hand, holding me as she looks at me, loves me.
This woman is everything. She gives me more and more everyday and I’m selfish and can’t stop taking whatever she gives me.
This is love. This is my forever.
AFTERWORD
Thank you so much for taking the time to read Traditions of Love.
I started this story in July of 2023 and this story just flowed out of me in a few months. It took me another nine months to be brave enough to want to share it and even now I’m terrified.
