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But I don’t care.
I’d let her break every bone in my body if it meant that I was taking even an ounce of pain away from her.
The obstetrician kneels nearby, her presence calm and steady, her voice soft but firm.
“You’re doing beautifully, Chiara.” She praises. “The baby is almost here. Just a little more, and she will be right here with you, bundled in your arms.”
Chiara lets out a small, choked sob as she drops her forehead against my shoulder.
“I can’t.” She gasps, her whole body shaking. “I don’t think I can.”
Nikolai shakes his head behind her, moving in closer towards her to press his lips against the side of her neck.
“You can, darling.” He murmurs as he keeps her grounded, pouring every ounce of love he has into his voice. “You’ve got this. You’re so strong, Chiara. You’re doing so well. We’re right here, and we’ll be here with you throughout it all.”
I tighten my hold on her as she lifts her head, then I tip my forehead to hers.
“Just a few more pushes, beauty. We’re almost there.”
Chiara clenches her jaw, nodding weakly at me, but I can see the sheer determination flickering back into her eyes.
My chest tightens with pride.
That's our girl.
Another contraction hits as she bears down, a deep, primal sound ripping from her throat.
“There we go.” The doctor encourages. “There’s the head crowning. All we need is a little more now.”
I shift slightly, adjusting my grip on her, and that’s when I see it.
Pale hair, slick with water.
It’s the smallest glimpse of the life we’ve all created together, and it’sours.
Fuck.
My vision goes blurry, my throat tightening as my heart slams into my ribs.
“You're doing it, beauty.” I whisper, my voice thick. “Our baby is almost here, just one more push, and we’ll meet our baby.”
She sobs with her forehead still pressed against mine, and she pushes with everything she has.
And then, everything changes.
A rush of warmth.
A sharp inhale from the doctor.
A pause, thick with anticipation.
The doctor is gentle, swift as she lifts our baby from the water.
Chiara opens her arms at once, taking our child onto her bare chest.
And finally, a cry.
High, sharp, and perfect.