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The pain is overwhelming. Her ears are ringing and she keeps repeating, “I can’t, I can’t, I can’t,” and Will is there, his hand in hers and his voice, steady and calm in her ear, “You can do anything, Mac, anything,” and “I love you, I love you, I love you.” And then a moment of hushed silence, everyone holding their breath, until a shrill cry breaks the air and Mac collapses back against the bed, Will brushing her sweaty hair off her face and beaming at her, his eyes bright and watery.
“It’s a girl, Mac, it’s a girl,” in an awed voice that she’s never heard before from him.
“I want to see her,” Mac’s exhausted in a way she’s never been before, her whole body aching, but the nurse sets her daughter (her daughter, oh God, would wonders ever cease?) into her tired arms and Mac’s world narrows. “Oh Will, oh God, she’s beautiful.”
“She’s perfect,” Will murmurs, dropping a kiss onto the top of Mac’s head.
“She’s ours,” Mac can’t quite wrap her head around it. She gently touches the baby’s perfect, tiny fingers and toes and tilts her head up to look at Will. She never imagined she’d be here, someone’s mother, and the idea is dizzying and terrifying.
“I love you so much,” Will tells her. “I just love you so much.”
A baby was not in the plans.
Their professional life was still in upheaval, they had only been married for a little over three weeks, when Mac realized that she was late. She assumed it was due to stress, until she woke up for a week straight, stumbling from their bed to the bathroom.
On the eighth day, Will came in behind her as she dropped to her knees in front of the toilet, his eyebrows sloping in concern, and put his foot down.
“You’re making a doctor’s appointment,” he told her in a firm voice.
She was six weeks pregnant.
Mac wasn't sure how to break the news to Will. They had never talked about kids, not back before, and not now. When she arrived back at work, she went straight back to her office, but was unsurprised when Will appeared in her doorway moments later, his face creased in worry. He hadn't entertained the possibility of her being pregnant, his worse-case scenario mind instead convincing him that she was dying of some incurable, unimaginable disease.
“You okay?” was what he said as he hovered in her door.
“Can we talk?” Mac asked, and her husband's face paled. “I'm not dying, Will,” she reassured quickly. She decided it was like a band-aid, it would be less painful if she just ripped it off. “I'm pregnant.”
“Thank God,” Will breathed and then froze. “You're what?”
“I'm pregnant,” she repeated. “Six weeks.” He sat, stone still, and it was Mac's turn to panic. “Please say something, Will.”
“I'm...you're...how...” Will sputtered, his eyes wide. “You're pregnant.”
“Yes,” she stood up and walked around to the other side of the desk to stand in front of him. “I know it's a lot and I know we never talked about kids, and I don't know if you're happy, or what...but I think I'm happy. I think I am, at least, and I don't...” She was cut off when his mouth swooped down onto hers, effectively stopping her rambling.
“You're pregnant,” he repeated, a grin spreading across his face, and she bit her lip and nodded. “Jesus Christ. We're going to be parents, Mac.”
“I know,” she said, her voice catching in her throat. “It's fucking terrifying.”
“Yeah,” he acknowledged. His smile faltered. “I don't know if I'm going to be...I'm a selfish prick sometimes, and I've never even been around kids before, and it's possible that I'm going to be fucking horrible at this.” He took a deep breath and tipped his forehead so that it rested against hers.
“You're going to be a great dad, Will,” Mac's voice was thick as she intertwined their hands, locking their fingers together.
“I'm going to try,” Will said softly, brushing another kiss to her lips. “I'm going to try so fucking hard.”
Mac knows that she's supposed to be sleeping when the baby is, but she can't bring herself to stop staring at Charlotte, running a finger down the baby's perfect nose as she sleeps in Mac's arms. The television is on low, Elliott's face on the screen.
“I thought you were both asleep,” Will says as he comes into the bedroom, tugging his sweater over his head.
“We watched the show,” Mac answers, smiling down at the baby. “And Daddy looked so handsome, but he didn't push the Senator nearly as hard as he should have, and we were both very upset with him, weren't we Charlotte?” Mac raises an eyebrow in her husband's direction, and he rolls his eyes, coming over to the bed and taking his three week daughter out of Mac's arms.
“Jim's fault,” Will brushes a kiss to the top of Charlotte's head. “He backs off too easily.” It was Mac’s turn to roll her eyes.
“Uh-huh,” she replies, dryly. She’s stopped from saying anything else by a huge yawn, and Will’s gaze softens as he places Charlotte into the bassinet next to the bed and runs his thumb down Mac’s cheek.
“You should sleep,” he instructs, and she nods, sliding down under the covers and gratefully closing her eyes.
Despite their attempts to hide Mac’s pregnancy, the staff knows almost immediately, although in typical fashion, no one tells either McAvoy that they’re doing a terrible job keeping it a secret.
It takes Mac’s blood pressure tanking and her sliding to the ground in the control room during a show for the jig to be up, with Jim dropping to his knees beside her, a look of barely controlled panic on his face.
“You okay? Need me to call your OB?” He asked. “Or an ambulance? I should call an ambulance. Has this happened before?”
“You know?” Mac latched onto the word OB, and Jim blushed.
“Everyone knows,” Maggie reported from where she was standing just behind Jim, a small frown on her face.
“Don’t call an ambulance,” she requested. “I just need to sit here a minute. The doctor said low blood pressure happens. No need to panic.” She slid off the headset, handing it to Jim. “Finish up the show, tell Will to calm the fuck down. I’m sure his blood pressure is through the roof. He doesn’t know how to not panic.”
“Will? It’s Jim. Mac needed to sit down for a second, she says to tell you that she’s fine,” Jim reported, and Mac gave him a wan smile and a small thumbs up. The show ended and Will came pounding down the hall, throwing open the door to the control room and squatting next to his wife.
“You okay?” He asked, brushing a piece of hair off her face. “Get dizzy?”
“A little,” she conceded. “I’m fine. Everyone should stop hovering.” She glared at Jim and Maggie. “Cat’s out the bag, though.” Maggie snorted.
“The cat was never in the bag,” she said.
“They know?” Will was surprised.
“Apparently,” Mac answered dryly as Will helped her to her feet.
“And we’re so excited,” Maggie told them, her happiness transparent, rocking slightly back on her heels and grinning at them.
“Congrats, guys,” Jim added, ducking his head slightly. Will couldn’t help the grin that was spreading across his face, and tucked a kiss into Mac’s hair and tightened his hold on her. With his free hand, he dug out his wallet and pulled out a couple of bills and shoved them at Maggie.
“We’ve got to get home,” he ignored Mac rolling her eyes and her protestation that she was fine, “but go get the team a round of drinks on me. To celebrate.”
Mac slips in the back of the control room, the baby in her arms, and watches as Jim tries to corral Will back in line. She’s not due back from maternity leave for another week, but she needed to get out of the apartment and talk to adults who weren’t Will before she lost her mind.
She loves Charlotte. She loves being a mother. But no one told her how hard it would be. They told her it would be exhausting, but no one told her just how exhausting. She’s not cut out to be a stay at home mother, and she when she confessed to Will that she felt guilty about how excited she was to go back to work, he had done his best to reassure her.
“What’s best for Charlotte is a happy, satisfied mother,” he told her. “She’s going to know you love her, and she’s going to have incredibly strong, successful women surrounding her to show her that she can do anything, be anything. What could be better than that?”
Jim notices her and the baby at the break, and grins at her, coming over to give her a hug, mindful of Charlotte in the middle.
“Does Will know you’re here?” He asks.
“He does not,” Mac answers. Maggie swoops in on them as soon as she spots Charlotte, scooping the baby in her arms and giving Mac a break.
“He’ll be so happy to see you, yes he will,” Maggie coos to the baby, who blinks up at her, unimpressed. “All he does is talk about you, yes he does.”
“I heard Charlotte was here,” Sloan peeks her head into the control room.
“And Mac,” Jim points out, ever loyal. Mac gives his arm a squeeze.
“News travels fast,” she mutters as Sloan gives her a quick hug before descending upon Maggie.
“I just got her!” Maggie squeaks.
“I’m her godmother,” Sloan argues. “I have rights.” Maggie sputters, but hands over Charlotte.
“Want to do the rest of the show?” Jim asks Mac. “He’ll practically fall out of his chair when he hears your voice.” Mac grins.
“That’ll be fun,” she replies, greedily taking the headset and feeling her world, which in the past few months had been flipped upside down, right itself a little. “Back in thirty, Will.” Will startles on the monitor in his chair and Jim snickers.
“What are you doing here? Is the baby here?” Will asks.
“No, I figured she was old enough to stay home by herself,” Mac says. “Relax. Sloan has her. She’s trying to teach her Keynesian economics.”
“It’s never too early to learn!” Sloan pipes up in a sing-song tone. “She’s going to be an economist.”
“She’s going to be an executive producer,” Jim corrects firmly.
“Anchor,” Will shouts through the headset just as they come back from break.
“Shut it,” Mac instructs her husband. “And don’t go easy on the Congressman.”
Will was surprisingly calm during MacKenzie’s pregnancy.
He was worried, of course, worried about Mac’s health, worried about residual scarring from her wounds from Islamabad. Worried about her low blood pressure and then high blood pressure. He worried about her getting the right amount of food and vitamins and sleep, but he surprised Mac by being pragmatic about actually becoming a parent.
“What if we fuck her up?” Mac asked as they laid in bed a few weeks before her due date, Will’s large hand resting on her stomach, her smaller one on top of his.
“We’re going to,” he said bluntly. “We can just hope that we don’t fuck her up too badly.” Mac huffed, turning her head towards her husband.
“You’re being awfully calm about all of this,” she accused. He shrugged.
“I’m being realistic,” he argued. “When you first told me you were pregnant, I was scared shitless, and trying not to let you know that I was scared shitless because I didn’t want to add any more unnecessary stress. I knew that you were also scared shitless. I was worried about becoming my father, and I was worried because I’m on the wrong side of fifty and I drink and I smoke and I’ve been an asshole for the better part of my life. And then I talked to Charlie who told me that I needed to grow the fuck up.”
“I didn’t know you talked to Charlie,” she said softly.
“He poured me a drink and told me to make an appointment with Habib and work through my shit,” Will said. Mac had known he had gone to talk to Habib, knew that he was making a concerted effort to come to terms with his own childhood before he became a father, but she hadn’t known what had spurred him on.
“I just want to be a good mother,” her voice was soft as she buried her face in his chest. He dropped his free hand onto the top of her head and gently carded his fingers through her hair.
“You’re going to be a great mother,” he insisted.
“But we’re still going to fuck her up?”
“All parents fuck their kids up in some way,” he replied. “It’s inevitable. But I’ll tell you what, this little girl is pretty damn lucky to have you.” Mac doesn't say anything, she can't around the lump in her throat, but she kisses his chest and closes her eyes and thinks that she's the lucky one.
It’s quiet.
The apartment is dark and silent and Charlotte is fast asleep in the nursery. Will’s body is curled up around hers, and his breathing is heavy and deep. Mac slides out from under his arm and he barely stirs. She pads down the hallway towards the baby’s room.
Mac stands above her daughter for a few moments, watching the rise and fall of the baby’s chest before she decides she’s going to tempt fate and reaches down into the crib to gather Charlotte into her arms. The baby whimpers slightly but settles down immediately as Mac lowers herself into the rocker. She leans down and presses the lightest of kisses onto Charlotte’s head, breathing in her smell for a moment.
“What are you doing?” Will’s voice, though soft and quiet, startles her and the baby fusses momentarily as Mac shushes her. Once Charlotte is back asleep, Mac glances up guiltily at her husband.
“I couldn’t sleep,” she whispers. “I just needed to hold her. I didn’t mean to wake you up.”
“I don’t sleep well alone,” he shrugs easily and comes over, ignoring his groaning knees as he sits himself on the matching ottoman. “You okay?” Mac feels tears prick at her eyes at his concern. She cries constantly lately; she blames the hormones and a lack of sleep.
“I’m fine, really,” she sighs. “I just missed her.”
“She needs to sleep in her crib,” Will points out. It was the first night they had moved Charlotte from the bassinet next to the bed into her own room, and Will had told Mac earlier that while he thought the baby would do just fine, he wasn’t so sure about her mother. Damn if he wasn’t right.
Mac hates when he's right.
“I know,” she says. “I know. I just…” She shrugs. “She’s still so little. I’m going to hold her for just a minute and then I’ll put her back. Go back to bed. I’ll be there in a second.” Will shakes his head.
“I’ll stay here with you,” he tells her.
“You sure?” Mac asks.
“There’s no where else I’d rather be.”