Chapter Two
Birth Certificate Mishap

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tatianaarenas Ocean's Mom.
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The hospital had become a second home over the last couple of days. After the whirlwind of delivering Ocean in that parking lot, I felt like I'd been through a rite of passage. My baby girl had already changed my world, and now, as we were finally discharged, I thought the hard part was behind us. The doctor handed me the paperwork, and as I glanced down, my heart sank.

"Tatiana, is everything okay?" my mother, Darya, asked, noticing the sudden shift in my expression.

I shook my head, feeling a knot tighten in my stomach. "No, it's not." I stared at the birth certificate in disbelief. "Joe is listed as the father."

"What?" Darya exclaimed, her eyes widening. "How is that possible?"

"Apparently, they assumed that because he was in the room and he was the one who delivered the baby, he was the father," I explained, still in shock. It felt absurd. Joe had been a kind stranger, but a father? That title belonged to no one but me.

Darya threw her hands up. "See? That's what happens when you let anyone in the medical field make assumptions! It's ridiculous!"

My father, Tristan, who had been quietly listening, chimed in. "What are you going to do about it, Tatiana?"

I took a deep breath, trying to gather my thoughts. "I have to track Joe down and get him off Ocean's birth certificate." The words sounded resolute, but inside, I felt the familiar flicker of anxiety.

"Do you know how to find him?" Tristan asked, concern etched on his face.

"Yeah, I can direct message him on Instagram. He's a celebrity, he's accessible," I replied, trying to sound confident.

"Sweetie, just because he's a celebrity doesn't mean he runs his own Instagram page," Darya interjected. "He probably has a team for that. He's not as accessible as you think."

I sighed, the weight of the situation pressing down on me. "I'll figure it out," I insisted. But deep down, I felt the first pangs of doubt creeping in. How on earth was I supposed to contact someone like Joe, especially after such an unusual encounter?

The car ride home felt surreal. Ocean was nestled in her car seat, her soft breathing a soothing rhythm amidst the chaos swirling in my mind. I couldn't help but glance at her, feeling that fierce protectiveness wash over me. I wanted her name to reflect our bond, not some fleeting moment with a stranger.

Once home, Darya fussed over the baby while Tristan settled into the couch with a sigh. I felt caught between two worlds: the joy of motherhood and the frustration of bureaucracy. The living room was filled with the warmth of home, yet my heart was heavy.

"Maybe you could call the hospital and explain?" Tristan suggested, his tone gentle.

I nodded, but a part of me knew that wouldn't solve the problem. "They said I need a DNA test to prove paternity and a signed affidavit from Joe saying he doesn't want to be listed. It's so ridiculous."

Darya shook her head, her brow furrowed. "You shouldn't have to jump through all these hoops just to correct a mistake. It's outrageous!"

I paced the floor, feeling restless. "What if I can't find him? What if he doesn't respond? I can't let this be how Ocean's life starts."

"Tatiana," Darya said, her voice firm but soft, "you will find him. Just give it some time. But for now, focus on your baby. Enjoy this time."

As evening settled in, I felt a little calmer. Ocean's tiny hands curled around my finger as I rocked her gently, her presence grounding me. I lost myself in her delicate features, the way her dark hair framed her perfect face. She was everything I had dreamed of and more.

The next morning, after a restless night, I resolved to tackle the situation head-on. After some deliberation, I pulled up Joe's Instagram.

It was sleek and professionally managed, filled with posts of him in the ring, training, and appearing at events. Scrolling through the photos, I marveled at the life he led. But I felt a pang of nervousness. How would he react to my message?

Taking a deep breath, I clicked on the direct message icon and began typing.

Hi Joe, it's Tatiana. We met at the parking lot where you helped me deliver my baby, Ocean. I just found out that you're listed as her father on the birth certificate due to some misunderstanding. I need your help to correct this. Can you please reach out?

My heart raced as I hit send. There was no turning back now. I put the phone down, willing myself to focus on Ocean instead. We spent the day playing with her colorful toys, cooing and laughing as she explored her tiny world. But in the back of my mind, I couldn't shake the anxiety of waiting for Joe's response.

Hours turned into a day, and just as I began to lose hope, my phone buzzed. I nearly dropped it in my haste to check the notification. It was a message from Joe.

Hey Tatiana! I remember you and the crazy situation we found ourselves in. I'm so sorry to hear about the birth certificate issue. What do you need from me?

Relief flooded through me. I quickly typed back, outlining what the hospital had said and the steps needed to rectify the situation.

I need you to sign an affidavit stating you're not Ocean's father and a DNA test to prove it. I can send you the details.

I hit send and felt a flicker of hope. Maybe this wouldn't be as complicated as I had feared. Joe responded almost immediately.

Of course. Just let me know where to send it, and I'll take care of it.

I felt a rush of gratitude and relief wash over me. Joe was willing to help, and for that, I was thankful.

As the days went by, Joe and I exchanged a few more messages. He was surprisingly friendly and accommodating, asking about Ocean and how we were settling in. I found myself sharing bits of my life, and in return, he opened up about his wrestling career, the challenges of being in the spotlight, and how he valued family.

"Crazy how our lives intersected, huh?" I typed one night, as Ocean slept peacefully in her crib.

"Yeah, it really is. Life has a funny way of connecting us," he replied.

The connection felt strange yet comforting. I never expected to form any sort of bond with the man who had assisted me in such an unusual circumstance, but here we were, communicating like friends.

Finally, Joe sent over the signed affidavit, and we arranged for the DNA test to be taken. He offered to come to my local clinic to make it easy, and I was both surprised and grateful.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" I asked him over text. "I don't want to put you out."

"Not at all. It's important to get this sorted out. Plus, I'd like to meet the little one!" he replied.

The thought of Joe actually meeting Ocean made my stomach flutter with nerves. I realized I hadn't really processed how this would unfold. Would he want to be involved in her life? Would he expect anything in return for his assistance?

The day of the test arrived, and I was a bundle of nerves. I had prepared myself, but I couldn't shake the unease. When Joe walked into the clinic, he looked as confident and composed as ever, but there was a warmth in his smile that eased my tension.

"Hey, there she is," he said, crouching down to peek at Ocean, who was nestled in her carrier.

"Hi," I managed, feeling a mix of emotions.

"Ready to get this done?" he asked, his eyes twinkling with humor.

"As ready as I'll ever be," I replied, chuckling nervously.

The procedure was quick and painless. We sat in a small room afterward, waiting for the results.

"Thanks for being so cool about all this," I said, breaking the ice.

"Of course! I didn't deliver a baby to just disappear. You both deserve to have this sorted out," he said, genuine in his words.

We chatted lightly, discussing everything from our favorite movies to the challenges of parenthood. I felt myself relaxing more, enjoying the easy banter between us.

When the nurse finally returned with the results, she smiled at both of us. "The results came back, and it looks like everything is in order," she said, handing me a form.

I breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank you," I said, feeling the weight lift.

Joe leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, a satisfied look on his face. "See? Easy peasy."

As we left the clinic, I turned to him. "Thank you for everything, Joe. I can't tell you how much this means to me and Ocean."

"It was my pleasure. And I hope to see you both again," he said, his tone sincere.

I looked down at Ocean, her tiny fingers reaching up as if sensing my thoughts. "We've got this, little one," I whispered. And for the first time since that day in the parking lot, I truly believed it.