Bob POV
I woke, or I think I woke up, to the feel of the baby on my chest; it hurt a little, but it was a good feeling. I heard Bethany explaining who was on my chest, weight, size, and other little cute things that made my son even more real, and I loved hearing her voice explaining it all to me; I did not want to open my eyes in case what I felt and heard was not real. I so wanted it to be real. But when she went to take the last baby away, I needed it to stay, to be real.
To lift my arm to stop the baby from leaving was a relief. It was real, and then I was pleased I could move my arms. I had thought when I was lying on the ground, after being shot and thinking I was dying, that if I lived, I would be a quadriplegic, and I was not sure how I felt about never being able to hug my child
