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Chapter Forty Nine

"Jolee?"

"It's really cute, but if we call her Jo for short it's going to get really confusing. What about Elizabeth?"

Mason was sitting on the bed and we were both staring down at the little bundle I was holding in my arms.

It had been love at first sight.

"I don't know. I mean Mason and Shelby aren't really popular names. I just don't see us going so traditional."

"Okay, well how about Brenna?" I asked.

I looked down at the teeny tiny little face. Her fluffy red hair contrasted so well with the light pink baby burrito she was wrapped in.

"Her initials would be BAR," Mason said. I laughed.

"She might need a drink from a bar after she finds out how crazy her family is," I teased. "I really like the name Brenna."

Mason reached out and stroked her cheek. Her mouth opened slightly.

"Me too."

Kevin had gone to pick up Dan and Addy from the airport. Kristin had gone to get a quick bite to eat. Mom and dad had gone back home to pick up Joe, Ally, and the twins.

For the moment it was just the three of us - me, Mason...

And Brenna.

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"Aunt Ally coming through!"

Ally pushed past mom and dad and made her way to the bed. She broke into a huge smile.

"Oh, she's adorable."

"Want to hold her?"

Ally nodded and sat down in the rocker. Kristin, who was rocking her and kissing her every couple seconds, put her carefully into Ally's arms.

"I brought you some ice cream," dad said. He brought over a covered container and kissed my temple.

"Thanks," I said. I looped my arm around his neck and hugged him.

Mason had caught Brenna, I had held her and then she had been passed to dad.

Dad started crying the moment he looked at her. Of course, I wasn't surprised.

Girls were dad's weakness.

What had been a surprise was Kevin's reaction. Dad had cried, but Kevin had bawled.

"I'm so proud of you both," Kevin had told Mason and me. "She's perfect."

As I dug into my ice cream, the door opened and Addy, Kevin, and Dan walked in.

"The gang's all here!" I said. I still hadn't slept. I was still a little wired.

"What's the baby's name?" Tristan asked. He was peering up over the arm of the rocker curiously.

All eyes turned to Mason and me. We shared a smile.

"Brenna Ann Richardson," Mason said. He puffed out his chest.

What a proud daddy peacock.

"Hey, her initials are BAR!" Joe said. Of all people, I knew Joe would be the one to point that out.

Dad and Kevin walked behind the rocker and hovered over Ally.

"Beautiful."

"Look at those tiny hands."

Dad nudged Kevin.

"You're screwed now. Our powers are no match for sweet little girls. Mine has been weakened for eleven years now. Welcome to the team."

Kevin rolled his eyes but he reached down and touched her little chubby chin.

Ally and I smiled.

Everyone played pass the baby for about two hours. During that time nurses were constantly coming in, she needed changed, and she needed fed.

That's when the exhaustion set in.

"Why don't I stay up here with Mason tonight?" Kristin asked.

I was going to tell her it wasn't necessary, but she didn't have anyone else with her and of all the grandparents, she was going to be the farthest away. She probably wanted this time. I nodded.

"That'd be great mom," Mason said.

I didn't know if I was going to be able to fall asleep, but as Kristin walked around lowering the lights and there was finally quiet, I faded off to sleep.

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Looking back, I realize that hospitals spoil new moms. You can get food or drink if you need it, people come and check up on you, and if you spazz out about something your baby does (like in my case, hiccup), there's nurses around at all times.

Then you go home and reality sinks in.

I spent two days in the hospital. On the second day Taurus and Apple came up to visit. They not only got to meet Bren, but they also met Mason. It was a fun little visit that was over too soon.

I was really excited about getting discharged. I couldn't wait to put Brenna in the crib and take a picture. I couldn't wait for Mason to hold her in the rocker so I could take a picture.

Basically I couldn't wait to take a lot of pictures with her everywhere.

Unfortunately, the amazing high that I had right after her birth went MIA. I was tired. By the time we got Brenna inside and everyone was once again playing pass the baby (except Kevin, who really didn't want to pass the baby; he wanted to keep her), I just wanted to go to sleep.

On top of the tiredness, the lactation consult had convinced me to pump breastmilk for at least the first couple months and my boobs were full, sore, and leaking. Plus, I was bleeding.

And I was surrounded by people.

A week later when Kevin, Addy, Dan, Kristin, and Grandma finally left, I hoped that I might be able to feel a little more relaxed.

But I didn't.

The twins adored Brenna, but she didn't adore them. They got too close to her face and she wailed. She would be fast asleep, they'd run into the room dressed as monsters, growl, and she would wail. Ally could quiet her down; I couldn't.

Big fail.

Meanwhile Mason decided to try to find a job. And he was going through a mess of red tape to get enrolled for his senior year at the public high school. Ally, mom, and dad were a huge help, but sometimes I almost felt like they helped too much. Mason would be gone for hours and for some odd reason that sent me into a bad mood. By the time he got back, I was snappy to him. He never snapped back; instead, he just took Brenna and gave me my space.

I also wasn't eating much. I had been downstairs in the middle of the night with Brenna and dad would scoop me out some ice cream, but usually I didn't even touch it.

These constant moods swings continued to get worse for the next month until I almost didn't want to get out of bed. Here I was, seventeen, with a beautiful baby and a family that was giving me tons of help, and I was feeling miserable.

Finally one day I burst into uncontrollable tears and mom couldn't take it anymore.

"We're going to Dr. Tresher."

She loaded me and Brenna in the car and we got in.

"Nothings wrong," I said pathetically.

"Yes there is, Shel."

Dr. Tresher sent mom out of the room and we had a private chat.

Her diagnosis?

Postpartum depression.

In my mind that just meant I was officially crazy, but everyone else assured me that it wasn't uncommon. Personally, I didn't think it was common for a seventeen year old to have to consult a psychiatrist, but mom made me do it.

The psychiatrist prescribed a relaxant and wrote out orders for a diet plan.

And amazingly, two months after the diagnosis, I actually smiled. And then I laughed. And then I apologized to Mason. And then I got Brenna to stop crying.

And I decided maybe the professionals knew what they were talking about after all.