Give Me The Greatest Peace I've Ever Known - 6
“Are you sure that you’re OK to fly?” Jean-Eric asks Jaime, the Spaniard carrying nothing but his laptop bag as Jean-Eric is refusing to let him carry anything remotely heavy. Jaime, at thirty five weeks pregnant is feeling it, centre of gravity way off, hips aching constantly, and his walk is most definitely not a walk - it’s undeniably a waddle. Alexandre is so big now that Jaime’s breathing has changed - baby pressing up against, and kicking his ribs, even as he’s head butting his bladder. It also makes it difficult to sleep, but they’ve been surviving, Jean-Eric has been learning to sleep far more heavily than he did, and Jaime just learning that mid-afternoon naps are not just for the elderly and Kimi Raikkonen
“I’m fine.” Jaime yawns, presses his hand to his back to balance him out a little. “Just tired, but we’ll be OK.” Jean-Eric raises an eyebrow, but doesn’t argue. Probably for the best actually, Jaime’s lack of sleep and general discomfort means he’s been snappy at the best of times, and quite frankly, and even the ever-patient-with-him Jean-Eric will admit this, horrendous irritating at the worst of times.
Canada, well, at least it doesn’t rain. Jean-Eric still gets thrown in the lake, much to Jaime’s delight - ambushed by his trainer - Jaime giggling so hard that he thinks he’s peed himself, and it turns out he has a little, which leaves him sulking and pissed off for the entire flight home. He doesn’t get out of his dark mood until three days later, when Jean-Eric drags him out to the cinema on a proper date, like the one they had in Malaysia only for no reason that he loves him. It’s nice to be just the two of them - even though no doubt, when Alexandre is born, they’ll love him instantly. They already do
Jaime’s sleeping patterns go even more wonky between their return from Canada and Valencia. Jean-Eric, despite the fact that their bed is massive, has to relearn how to sleep, because he can’t sprawl with all the pillows Jaime is making use of to find a comfortable position. Which he has to rearrange after every time he gets up for a pee, or a midnight snack, because it’s not just his lungs and bladder being crushed - it’s his stomach too. Still, Jean-Eric still loves him - Jaime knows this because despite being constantly woken in the night, despite Jaime snapping at him on a pretty regular basis because he’s tired and uncomfortable, he’s content to rub Jaime’s feet, he’ll gently rub moisturiser into his bump, kiss his stretch marks, bring him breakfast in bed, and he still tells Jaime he loves him at least every two hours, kisses him whenever he sees him as they’re living their lives around each other. He’s sat up in bed, watching Jean-Eric sleep, kept awake by Alexandre and his hiccups, which rams a bum into his lungs every couple of seconds, when he realises just what he’s gained. He’s gained something that’s absolutely perfect.
His medical care has been transferred to the UK, so after Valencia (where Jean-Eric crashes out, Jaime nearly curses at him live on the radio, and they go home only slightly more irritated than they started), they return and attempt to finish preparing for their baby. The nursery is mostly completed, and with a few gifts from their families (Jaime’s are still lukewarm, but Jaime’s sister did send a package for them, and has plans to come see the baby for the Silverstone GP, so she ‘can see Jean-Eric driving too’.), it’s pretty much finished. They have enough nappies to make a small fort out of, and plenty of clothes too, Jean-Eric spent three hours trying to fit the car seat, and resorted to (without telling Jaime, but what he doesn’t know won’t kill him) driving down to the factory and getting some of the boys to show him how to fit it properly, and Jaime’s bag is packed. The only things that aren’t ready? Jaime and Jean-Eric. Jaime is terrified of the surgery. Jean-Eric is holding it together, but is terrified for Jaime
It culminates in a silent drive to the hospital, Jamie staring out of the window with both hands cupped around his bump, Jean-Eric maintaining silence too. They actually maintain it until Jaime bursts into tears as they’re preparing to take him down to surgery. He cries into Jaime’s shoulder, a nurse quietly reassuring him, rubbing at his shoulder while Jean-Eric rubs his lower back, until he calms down, blinks wetly at them and giggles, still nervous but excitement building. “You’ll be fine.” The nurse smiles, helps him into his gown, “And you’ll get to meet your baby very soon.” She adds. “Do you know what you’re having?”
“Boy.” Jaime answers. “Alexandre Hugo.” He informs her, Jean-Eric also changing into his scrubs. The nurse ‘aww’s in response, but let’s them walk down to theatre in their own time - evidently, she knows not to rush you if you’re heavily pregnant, and reduced to waddling.
And then there’s a needle sliding sharply into Jaime’s back, but he uses Jean-Eric, clings to his hands while his lower body goes numb, and decides just to trust the doctors. At this point, he hasn’t got much choice. It’s uncomfortable, not that he expected it not to be, there’s tugging and god know what’s happening to his insides, but then there’s a thin wail, a louder cry and it’s a scant few seconds before a towel-wrapped baby is gently deposited into his arms, Jean-Eric leaning over, and god, it’s perfect. He cries, running fingers gently over Alexandre’s face, and the baby stops crying, blinks fuzzy blue eyes at Jamie and scrunches up his tiny nose. “He’s perfect.” Jean-Eric whispers, lets a tiny hand cling fiercely to his finger and gently kisses Jaime on the cheek, strokes his hair as he’s been doing for the entire operation. “Thank you.” He murmurs, and despite the chaos of theatre, the numerous doctors, nurses and other assorted medical staff, it feels so private, like it’s just the three of them
It takes them longer to stitch Jaime back up than it does to slice him open. Jaime dozes off for some of it, lets Jean-Eric bond with their son and remains pretty much half awake while they wheel him back down to the recovery ward. They take pictures, pose proudly and learn how to feed him, how to bath him. Jaime, still pretty much high on painkillers, manages his first trip out of bed a day later, to the loo, which is hardly a massive trip, but it’s massive when you’ve just had major abdominal surgery. Alexandre sleeps a lot, but then, he cries a fair bit too, but it doesn’t take them long to pick up the subtle clues of him being hungry, uncomfortable or just lonely, so their week long stay is fairly chilled out. Their walks get longer each day - they’ve progressed from the bathroom to the hospital café, baby in tow usually, and sometimes with relatives too
To say he’s only a week old, Alexandre has completely and utterly stolen Jaime’s heart. He’s half-him, and half-Jean-Eric, and Christ, Jaime loves him so much already. He’s blinking it that soft, baby manner he uses when he’s half asleep, yawning in his car seat while Jaime waits to be discharged with enough prescriptions to paper their apartment. Jean-Eric is finishing packing up the final few things, looking over Jaime’s discharge papers and quietly chatting to the nurse who’s going to walk them out and check they have Alexandre’s seat fitted properly. Jaime, still very much sore, and with his staples and stitches taken out just the day before, is not even allowed to carry the car seat downstairs. Probably for the best - he’s only just about up to walking really, so he doesn’t argue, just admires his boyfriend while Jean-Eric balances a suitcase and a car seat, but spends most of the walk down smiling down at their son
Settling in at home proves easier than they expect. In a way, the nurses had gradually withdrawn help over the week, so it proves fairly easy to work out Jaime’s recovery, while still allowing Jean-Eric to train and both of them to spend time caring for their baby. They may be running on little sleep, but when your child is as cute as Alexandre is, why would you mind? Jaime spends hours just staring at him, curled on his side with Alex laid out on his back on the bed next to him, counting tiny fingers and tiny toes, often with Jean-Eric curled up opposite him, normally with a hand stroking through his hair, while they talk to Alex and watch him respond to their voices
They take Alex to the British Grand Prix, show him off proudly. Jean-Eric takes him on the track walk while he’s fast asleep in his carrier, sleeping soundly with the rocking motion of his walk, and then he mainly stays with Jaime, sound asleep in the commentary booth, barely startled by the cars racing past. Dan completely adores him, enthralled by him when Jean-Eric shows him off to the team, even if he starts fussing when Dan is cuddling him, but he settles back with Jean-Eric and demands to be fed. Still, to say Jaime is still pretty doped up on painkillers, and unable to carry Alex himself, it was a pretty successful weekend. Even if the race wasn’t
Jaime’s sat in the Energy Station with a sleeping Alex propped against his shoulder waiting for Jean-Eric so they can drive home when he realises that yes, he may have lost his seat, but he’s gained so much. Even if he doesn’t get a seat next year, he doesn’t think that he’d mind. Yes, it’s a lot to sacrifice, but as Alex sleepily smiles (even though it’s probably gas, and smells quite a bit like gas), and Jean-Eric drops a kiss to the top of his head and another to Alex’s, Jaime thinks that he wouldn’t mind too much if it means he gets this