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“You’re nearly there, Isabella. Just a few more pushes,” the doctor encourages, her voice calm and steady.
Isabella, with beads of sweat on her brow and a look of sheer determination in her eyes, nods weakly. “You can do this,” I say, kissing her brow.
Sarah, standing on the other side, wipes Isabella’s forehead with a cool cloth. “You’re the strongest person I know, Isabella. You’ve got this.”
With each contraction, her breathing becomes more labored, her efforts more intense. The room is filled with a sense of urgency, the medical team ready and waiting.
“Alright, Isabella, big push now,” the doctor instructs, her tone both encouraging and commanding.
With a deep breath and a cry of effort, Isabella pushes with all her might. I hold my breath. The room falls into a brief, tense silence, followed by the most beautiful sound – our baby’s first cry.
The doctor quickly and efficiently clears the baby’s airways. “Congratulations, it’s a boy,” she announces, her face breaking into a smile.
As she hands me our son, wrapped in a soft blanket, my hands tremble with a mixture of joy and awe. “He’s here, Isabella. Our son, Pietro.”
Isabella, exhausted yet radiant, reaches out to cradle our baby. As she holds him close, a look of pure love and wonder washes over her face.
“Hello, my little one,” she whispers, tears of joy streaming down her face. “You had me worried for a while there. Thought you’d never come out.”
I lean in, placing a gentle kiss on Isabella’s forehead and then on the soft, downy head of our son. “You’re both my everything,” I say, my voice thick with emotion.
As I cradle him for the first time, a wave of indescribable emotions washes over me. He’s so small, so fragile, yet his presence fills the room with an immense power.
I’m awestruck by the immediate bond I feel with him, a connection that’s both primal and profound.
“Isabella, look at our son,” I say, my voice choked with emotion. I carefully hand our baby to her, watching as she gazes at him with a mix of wonder, love, and sheer relief.
“He’s perfect,” she whispers, tears of joy rolling down her cheeks. “We did it, Dominic.”
I lean in, kissing her forehead gently. “You did it, Isabella. You’re incredible. I love you both so much.”
“We love you too, don’t we little guy?”
Sarah steps closer, her eyes misty with emotion. “Congratulations, you two. You’re going to be amazing parents. Now, when do I get to become the godmother?”
17
ISABELLA
Six months later…
As I walk down the aisle, enveloped in the soft rustle of my elegant gown, the guests turn their heads, their faces alight with anticipation. Sarah smiles, Pietro asleep in her arms.
The grandeur of the church, with its stained glass windows casting colorful patterns on the floor, adds to the solemnity of the moment.
My heart beats with a mixture of excitement and nerves, but as my eyes find Dominic at the altar, a sense of calm washes over me.
He stands there, the epitome of elegance in his perfectly tailored suit, his gaze filled with love and a quiet strength that reassures me.
Reaching the altar, I take his hand, feeling the warmth and certainty of his grip. The priest, with his kindly eyes and an easy smile, steps forward to begin the ceremony.
“Friends, family, we are gathered here today to witness the reunion of two people whose hearts have found a home in eachother,” the priest begins, his voice resonating in the hallowed space.
“I’ve known the Caruso family for many years, and I’ve had the pleasure of watching Dominic grow into the man he is today.”
He glances at Dominic, a twinkle in his eye. “I remember a young Dominic, always the adventurous spirit, climbing the highest trees, much to his mother’s dismay.
“But even then, he had a sense of responsibility, a care for those he loved. It’s that heart which has led him to Isabella, a remarkable woman whose strength and grace are evident to all.”
