My Darling Jane: Chapter 31

Here I am, in Jane’s hospital suite, heart racing as I walk the floor.

Babs leans against the wall. “Jasper, you’re pacing so much you’re going to wear a hole in the floor.”

Andrew flips through a magazine, seemingly at ease. “Dude, you need to chill. Babies come when they come. And screaming moms are totally normal,” he says, not looking up.

I know he’s trying to be helpful, but his words are like gasoline on my already blazing anxiety.

“I’m not screaming,” Jane announces from her bed grumpily. “I want everyone out of here, except Jasper and Emmy.”

The nurse chuckles under her breath as she tells me that it won’t be much longer now and leaves the room.

I return to Jane’s side, taking her hand in mine. Her grip is strong, and I wince.

“Hey,” I say, trying to sound more confident than I feel. “You’re doing amazing, you know that?”

Jane shoots me a look. “I feel like I’m trying to bench-press a truck.”

I laugh, and she cracks a smile, which is all I’m aiming for.

“If anyone can bench-press a truck, it’s you, angel. You’re strong.”

Babs and Andrew leave, mumbling something about getting coffee. It’s just me, Jane, and the faint beeping of monitors now. I pull up a chair closer to her bed, not wanting to let go of her hand.

Emmy hovers near the door, her phone in hand, probably texting updates to the family chat. “You got this, sis,” she says, before stepping out to give us some space.

Jane’s breathing changes, her focus inward, and I’m in awe. “Talk to me,” she says between breaths. “Distract me.”

“What do you want to hear?” I ask, ready to recite the dictionary if it’ll help.

“Tell me why you love me,” she says.

“Where do I start?” I squeeze her hand. “I love you because you’re the bravest person I know. You face everything head-on, no matter how tough it is. I love how you make me laugh, how you argue with me. I love your fierce loyalty to those you care about, how you’ve welcomed me into your life and made me feel like I belong.”

She listens, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

“I love how you are with Londyn, how you’re going to be with our baby. You’re going to be an incredible mom to two or three or four or five, and I can’t wait to see it.”

Jane’s grip tightens, another contraction rolling through her. “Keep talking,” she breathes out.

“And I love that you’re making me a father,” I continue. “I can’t imagine doing this with anyone else. You, me, Londyn, and this little one on the way, we’re a team.”

She relaxes slightly. “Thank you,” she says, her eyes meeting mine with a love so deep it nearly knocks me off my feet.

The nurse returns, checking the monitors, then Jane. “It’s almost time,” she says, and everything in me tightens with anticipation.

Jane’s brow furrows as another wave of contractions hits. “Jasper, I think . . . I think I want the epidural.”

I chuckle nervously, remembering the pact we made. “Uh, babe, remember? You made me swear—on my first batch of lasagna—that I wouldn’t let you cave for the epidural. You were very specific: ‘Even if I beg, plead, or threaten to name our child after a football player from a rival team.’”

She glares at me, her gaze enough to make a lesser man flee. “I was not in labor when I made that promise.”

“But you said you wanted to go all natural. You compared yourself to a warrior queen.”

Her grip on my hand tightens, her nails digging in just enough to remind me that she means business. “I’d happily trade my warrior-queen crown for a nice, big shot in the back.”

“Come on, now. You’re doing amazing. Remember the breathing techniques? Hee-hee-hoo, hee-hee-hoo?”

“Hee-hee-hoo yourself. If you don’t get that anesthesiologist in here right now, I’m going to start thinking up some very creative names for our son.”

“All right, all right. I’ll get the nurse.”

It was too late for the epidural, and now he’s here. I stand, holding my son for the first time, the weight of this tiny life in my arms, emotions washing over me. He’s so small, so fragile.

As I look down at his peaceful face, awe fills me. His fingers, his soft breaths—every detail about him is a marvel.

Memories of my own mother, the one who brought me into this world, flash through my mind. The abandonment I felt for so long, the questions that clouded my heart, they all seem to converge in this single moment.

As I gaze at my son, I realize something. The pain of my past, the absence of my biological mother—it’s all led me to this. It’s taught me what it means to truly love, to give unconditionally, to be the parent I never had.

I see a future filled with love, a promise to be there for him in all the ways I missed growing up. I silently vow to give him the security that every child deserves.

He will never question his worth. I will be there for every step, every fall, every triumph.

As I look up to see Jane watching me, gratitude hits. We’ve created a new beginning for us as a family.

The sun slips through the blinds, and I blink. We haven’t slept a bit. But I’m not tired. Because I know this is the start of everything I want.

Most of all, I want her.

Completely. Forever.

With our son sleeping in the hospital bassinet next to the bed, I hold Jane’s face in my hands and kiss her.

Her eyelids flutter as she says sleepily, “I love you.”

And for the first time in my life, I’m too dumbstruck to think of a single punch line. The only thing I can think of is what I’m feeling with every cell of my body. “I love you, too, Jane. And Londyn. And Jace Andrew Jannich.”

I stand in our apartment, battling a dirty diaper. At three months, our little guy is all gassy smiles, oblivious to the assault he’s unleashed. It’s July, over a year since we first got together. Just last month, we were married in a quiet ceremony with our family around us, but now, it’s back to the real world.

“All right, champ, let’s tackle this,” I say as I open the diaper. The stench slams into me, and I gag. “Jane! This is a two-person job!”

Londyn struts in, eyeing the situation with disdain. “Mom, Jasper’s being weird again!”

“I don’t like the poop,” I whine.

“You’re such a drama queen,” she says as she rolls her eyes and walks back out.

“This is biohazard-level stuff,” I argue to no one, fumbling for wipes and a clean diaper, wishing I had paid more attention during those YouTube tutorials.

Jane floats in, ever the calm one. “Struggling?”

I give her my best help-me eyes.

She laughs, taking over with the skill of a seasoned pro. “You’ll get the hang of it. It’s all in the wrist.”

I watch in awe as she wraps up the job with finesse. Her transition from bookstore manager to matchmaking CEO from our apartment has been seamless, leaving Babs to run the bookstore.

“Diaper crisis averted,” she announces, washing up. “You owe me.”

I pull her close and kiss her lips. “I owe you everything.”

Just then, Londyn tugs at my sleeve, all business. “Park? You promised to take me on the lake.”

I nod, energized. “Park it is.”

I glance back at Jane, who’s watching us with an all-encompassing love.

In the chaos of new fatherhood and the family I never knew I needed, I realize that life’s surprises aren’t just twists in the road—no, they’re the stepping stones guiding us to where we’re meant to be. Every unexpected turn has brought me to a destiny I couldn’t have dreamed of. My family is my unexpected destiny, with love that binds us all together. And it’s more beautiful than I ever could have hoped.