4| Soccer

A/N: Guys, this chapter is tough to read. Please beware of triggers involving miscarriages and stillbirths.

Chapter 4

Alessio

I rub her circles around her swollen belly, feeling the small kicks from the little person inside-my daughter who has yet to be named. Alice's back is to my chest, as she sits in between my legs on the couch. I enjoy this position the most. It's the best way for me to hold Alice and my daughter.

Alice holds a book filled to the brim with names on her lap.

"Okay, since our names start with an A, then our daughter's name should too. Right? Because as corny as some people would think. I think it would be cute," Alice says. "I think for all of our children we should do that." I aimlessly rub her stomach, cocking my eyebrow when she says all.

She flips to another page. "All of our children? Is there a twin inside that you failed to inform me inside?"

"No silly, it's only one. But I do in fact want more kids. I was an only child and I always envied the other kids that had siblings. And I think it would be nice to have a few tikes running between our legs calling us mommy and daddy? But...if you only want to one then it's fine with me."

I take my claim in the crook of her neck, inhaling her scent. "It sounds like a busy life we're gonna have. I gotta get us a house soon."

She lifts her head up, "so the more kids thing is a yes?" I don't care how many kids we have. We can have one or one hundred for all I care. I kiss her lips, my bottom to her top and my top to her bottom lips. "Yes, but let's get this first one out before we think of more."

Her face lights up. I think if Alice keeps looking at me like that our daughter will have a sibling sooner than later. "Okay, back to baby naming," Alice beams.

A million names for a million babies

A self-explanatory title for would-be parents who need a name for their daughter. We decided that she would take on my name-a slight nudge to Alice's request for our soon-to-be marriage that will come sooner than later.

So, far we have decided her name is yet-to-be-discovered Natalia Russo. Her mother, in her own way, begged for Alice to name our daughter after her. A fun thought that I envy of my daughter. I never had a middle name, for what I can recall. My mother was too out of it to tell me but I bet she never gave me one.

Alessio Russo, a simple name.

"Oh, should we give her an authentic Italian name?" She asks.

An authentic Italian name? I let out a chuckle. "Whatever you think is best. You letting her have my last name is enough for me," I place a chaste kiss on her cheek.

"Of course, she is getting your name. I love your name. And it's our daughter. I can't decide everything. You should have a say in it." I remain silent, basking in the warmth that comes from Alice's body.

"Okay, give me some of the names you like." I feel her kick again. That makes three in ten minutes. A personal best for her. "As soon as she's old enough, we're signing her up for soccer."

Alice lets out a groan, "yeah, because she thinks that the inside of my uterus is some soccer field. But, God, do you think we'll be like one of those parents?"

"Those?"

"The ones who are gonna wear their kid's jerseys and paint their faces to match the team colors. Or make banners and stuff to cheer them on?"

"Want me to be honest?"

"I always do," she says as she flips to another page.

"Yes, I think so."

"Good, because I'm totally cutting up little oranges for the team and painting little black lines under her eyes."

And I see a lot more than that. I see Alice pilling the car with banners, making posters the night before while our daughter sleeps. I see Alice running down the field with our daughter as she kicks the ball, avoiding all the other girls. I can see me holding her back when one of the moms complains or says the wrong thing about our daughter.

Alice is gonna be hands-on. She's gonna be a super mom. The best kind that anyone could ask for.

"I wouldn't expect anything else from you."

"So back to names. Alessio, which names sound the best?" She flips back to the beginning, to the three tabs she placed inside of the book. "Aria? Alina? Or Annabella." I feel a kick.

"Aria?" I repeat. "Aria," I say again. "Aria Russo. Alina? Alina Russo." The names don't quite roll off the tongue. "Annabella." I feel a kick. "Annabella Russo," another kick. I raise an eyebrow and move my hand along Alice's stomach.

"Alessio, what are you doing?"

"I'm just testing something out. Annabella," I mutter. Then, not one second later, there's a kick. Alice looks at me, and I can only chuckle.

"Annabella," she says herself. In unison, we feel a kick. "She's so smart!" Alice coos.

"She basically named herself. Annabella," I say. "Annabella," I repeat. "Annabella Russo, she's athletic and smart." I continue to say her name until her little feet stop kicking the inside of Alice.

"Not, ten minutes of us figuring out her name, you can't get sick of saying it. What do you think she will look like?"

"Like her mother," I say with no hesitation. I hope she looks like Alice in every way possible for a child could. Her hair tickles my neck. It's much longer than what she usually prefers, and she keeps the same blonde in her head. I've never seen her with her natural hair color unless it was in pictures.

But I've grown accustomed to it. Like the people around her of it. Blonde matches her personality to a tea. She is the sun of my life. I wouldn't know what to do without her.

"Really? I think she'll be much cuter if she looked like you. Like those eyes of yours, they're the perfect shade of brown. And I would kill for the way your hair looks with no effort at all." She turns her entire body, now resting her head against my chest. She rubs her hand up and down my chest. "You think I will be a good mom?"

"Yes," I say with no hesitation. There is no doubt in my mind that she will be the best mom. "Alice, you're gonna be the best mom a girl can ever ask for."

"One more month before it starts."

"One more month."

One more month before Annabella Natalia Russo emerges into the world.

~

I'm awoken by three slaps to my face. I move my leg and keep my eyes closed for a few more moments of sleep. I stop when I feel some water on my leg. What? My eyes slowly creep open, and I'm met with Alice's face hovering a few inches away from my face.

"Alessio! Alessio!" Alice shouts. "Get up! It is fucking time!" I shoot up from the bed. She holds her stomach.

"Alice, remember to breathe," I assure her.

"I am breathing," she shouts. She looks at my current state. "For the love of God, get the baby bag and put some clothes on. Annabella is coming." I rush out of bed and slide on the closest thing. I sling the baby bag and pick Alice up from the bed. "I can walk," she stutters out.

A groan immediately emerges from her mouth. "I'll carry you," I assure her.

The baby bag is slung over my shoulder, and the halls are empty. This was the worst time for Alice's mother to leave for a business ordeal. Alice holds her stomach, letting out a series of curses as I put her into the car.

I've tracked how much time it will take to get to the hospital and the best possible route there. If all the research I've done is correct, then it should take us seven minutes.

I hold her hand as she sits in the passenger seat in the worst pain known to man. I hold back my smile to not upset Alice. I know it's wrong of me to feel such happiness while pain takes over her entire body. But I'm happy. And I've never been as happy as I am now with her next to me crying, shouting a barrage of curse words at me.

Soon, I will be holding my daughter in my hands.

We arrive at the hospital. Alice's face is red, and she's in my arms in a second. "Alessio, I'm scared," she cries. "It hurts!" I place Alice in a wheelchair and hurry to the emergency room. The wails coming from Alice are enough for us to be placed in a room in less than five minutes flat.

She lays on her back with a doctor and a series of nurses hovering around her aching vagina. I hold her hand and merely stare at her with admiration for what she's doing. Her screams fill the room, "Alice, I love you," I kiss her forehead.

Before, when I watched Kat's childbirth. I never thought of how beautiful it truly was-the miracle of childbirth. Sweat drips on her forehead.

"One more push, Alice," the doctor commands.

Alice repositions herself. She closes her eyes and grabs ahold of my hand. A loud wail comes from her, and I see her head. Black hair with bits of afterbirth is on top of her head. I see more and more of her come out until the entirety of my daughter is in the doctor's hands.

Annabella Russo, my daughter.

"Is she here?" Alice cries.

"Yeah, and she's beautiful," I smile, approaching her.

"Something wrong," the doctor says as he taps my daughter's back. Her skin is pale, not at all pink, vibrating with life like she is supposed to. The wails that should be piercing my ears aren't there.

She's not even moving.

"What's going on?" I ask at a tremble, the words barely audible. I reach out towards my daughter, but a nurse stands in my way.

"Sir, we are doing what we can," she says. "Please stand back."

"But," I can't manage to utter another world. I watch as the doctor attempts to get her to breathe. He pushes her small chest, one, two, three. I stay planted, watching it all unfold.

"Alessio," Alice mutters, pulling me back to reality. "Where is our daughter? Where is she?"

I see them push on her tiny chest in hopes for her to breathe. The doctor presses her ear to Annabella's chest. She bites her lip and pushes again. I count the number of times, but it doesn't seem enough. Yet, they continue for what seems like forever and nothing, not even a twitch.

"One, two, three," I hear. The constant counting and I slowly realize from the doctors' faces as they turn to us that there is nothing more than they can do.

She's gone.

"I'm so sorry," they tell us, and then I hear nothing at all. I don't hear the wails coming from Alice, I can't.

I thought I was a strong man. A man who could survive anything. But, this is worst than anything I could ever imagine.

"Would you like to hold her?" The nurse asks Alice.

Alice cries and only nods her head. She places Annabella on her chest, and I watch as Alice cries with our daughter in her hands. She places a kiss on our daughter's head. There's no giggles or small movement of her hands. I don't get a picturesque image of a woman holding her newborn daughter.

Instead, I get a grim picture. Like, all the color in the world was gone at the scene. Alice's tears coated her face and the top of Annabella's head. She places a kiss followed by another followed by more. She inhales her scent and the softness of her body.

"She's warm," Alice cries. "She's so goddamn beautiful." Alice rocks Annabella in her arms. "She has your hair." She does. It's the same shade as my own, with one curl on her forehead like my own.

"Alice," I start.

"She was supposed to be a soccer star. She was supposed to be great."

"Alice," I say.

She ignores my pleads, the few words I can only say to comfort her but aren't working.

"I was going to be the team mom. And...and," she begins to cry more. "I was gonna put her in little dresses, and when her hair got longer, I was gonna braid her hair. Then, you were gonna teach her Italian."

"I know." I embrace Alice and take a look at our daughter.

"She has my nose and my lips. I can tell because the other night when she refused to stop kicking, I stared at my family album-imagining what she could possibly look like. And she looks like me. She looks like me," she repeats. "She is the perfect combination of us. She's more than I could ever dream of," she cries. "She's absolutely perfect in every way."

"I know."

She holds Annabella close. "Please breath for mommy. Please let me raise you. Please open your eyes, baby girl."

And her eyes never open.

Okay, that was hard for me to write. I need to take a break.

Shit...

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