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Cypress takes a step back, her eyes scanning me thoughtfully. "You're glowing, Pia. Honestly, those video chats didn't do you justice," she exclaims, then shifts her tone slightly. "But you look like you're ready to be done with being pregnant."
I can't help but laugh, agreeing wholeheartedly. "Oh, I am more than ready," I say, resting a hand on my belly, feeling its tightness, then glance at Marco with mock accusation. "And you," I point at him with a playful frown, "you knew Cypress was coming, didn't you?" Marco just gives me an innocent shrug, but I know him too well by now. Rolling my eyes, I turn back to Cypress. "You're staying here, right? Please don't tell me you got a hotel."
Cypress replies with an exaggerated “duh,” cementing that she's staying with us. As Marco slips away, giving us space, Cypress leans in, her voice lowering to a sincere tone. "You're truly happy, aren't you?"
The question makes me pause, and I reflect on everything that's changed—how Marco makes me feel, the life I've left behind versus the one I've gained and the unconditional love and support of my new family. Meeting Cypress's gaze, I answer with a profound, undeniable certainty: "I am. But I do miss the Philippines…and you."
Our embrace is warm and filled with shared memories and unspoken understanding. But then, a sudden sensation, like a gentle pop, pulls me back to the moment. I feel warmth trickling down my legs and quickly pull away from Cypress, who immediately yells for Marco.
He's by my side instantly, his concern etched across his face as he sees the liquid pooling at my feet. Tears of joy and the reality that our baby is on the way overwhelm me, and I say, "I think it's time."
The moment is raw and real, blending excitement, nervousness, and the profound realization that we're about to welcome our child into the world. It's a moment I'll never forget, the beginning of something extraordinary.
Rushed through the glass doors, the world blurs into a swirl of motion and light. My heart pounds, echoing the fear gripping me, a stark reminder of my mother's fate. Cypress and Marco's voices float to me, muffled and distant through the tunnel of my mounting panic. The nurse's calm instruction to breathe deeply reaches me as if from far away. I try to recall the breathing techniques from our classes. Another wave of pain crashes over me, demanding all my attention.
As I'm assisted onto the bed, the suite transforms into a whirlwind of activity. Cypress retreats to give us space while Marco remains steadfast by my side, his hand in mine a lifeline. His steady and sure voice guides my breathing, offering a brief respite from the pain. "It's working," I manage to say between breaths, "but they're getting closer."
The doctor sweeps in, her confidence reassuring in the chaos. "Are you ready to deliver this baby? Because he or she is coming any moment now," she announces after a quick examination. The nod to her team signals the beginning of the final phase. "You're almost there. Unfortunately, we're past the point for an epidural, so you'll be delivering naturally," she informs me, her voice a mix of apology and encouragement.
Another contraction grips me, and I find myself holding onto the bed rail and Marco's hand with a vise-like grip. His voice becomes my anchor, pulling me through the pain. The doctor's team moves with practiced efficiency, their presence a constant background to Marco's guiding voice.
In a final, monumental effort fueled by fear, determination, and Marco's unwavering support, I push with everything I have. The room's intensity peaks, a crescendo of voices and movement, until suddenly, a new sound pierces the air—a loud, healthy wail.
Tears stream down my face, intermingled with relief, joy, and a profound love that washes away all fear. "It's a healthy baby boy," the doctor announces, and in that moment, everything changes. My world shifts, centering on the tiny, fierce life we've brought into the world. Marco's face, mirroring my tears and joy, is the last piece of the puzzle, completing this picture of our new beginning.
Chapter Thirty
Marco
Watching Pia with Giancarlo is a moment I never tire of. There's something about how she holds him, feeds him, that adds another layer to my deep love for her. Despite her protests, the nannies we hired are invaluable, especially after including a Filipina nanny, ensuring Giancarlo grows up knowing both sides of his heritage.
The challenge Pia faced with breastfeeding was a hurdle we hadn't anticipated. Seeing her so distraught, doubting her ability as a mother because her milk was slow to come in, was heart-wrenching. I did everything I could to support and remind her of her strength and the incredible job she's already doing with our son. The reassurances seem to have worked; she's more confident now, the glow of motherhood radiating from her.
Today's baptism is a blend of our cultures and a celebration of Giancarlo's dual heritage. The decision to have multiple godparents, despite it being unconventional in Mexican tradition, was something Pia was adamant about. And honestly, I couldn't find it in me to argue. The happiness in her eyes when we discussed it made everything else insignificant. The more love surrounding Giancarlo, the better.
Watching her prepare for the ceremony, I'm struck by how quickly she's returned to her pre-pregnancy form. But it's more than just physical appearance; there's a strength and resilience in her now, a captivating beauty that's even more profound than before. She's not just the woman I fell in love with; she's the mother of my child, my partner in this incredible journey of parenthood.
The day promises to be filled with love, family, and celebration. As Pia finishes multitasking between feeding Giancarlo and readying herself, she starts preparing him for the day; I can't help but feel a surge of pride and joy. Our family, our son, this day—it's more than I could have ever hoped for. My, how my life has changed.
As the nanny carefully takes Giancarlo from our arms, ensuring our morning can proceed without interruptions, I glance at the ornate clock adorning our wall. With two hours until we need to depart for La Basilica de Zapopan and the inevitable traffic to contend with, urgency nudges my side. Yet, as I turn to Pia, a different kind of urgency takes hold, one that speaks of love, connection, and the precious moments we steal for ourselves amidst the chaos of new parenthood.
Striding towards Pia with a purpose only love can define, I wrap my arms around her, drawing her close. She tilts her head, her eyes searching mine with amusement and curiosity. "Marco?" she queries, her voice a melody that quickens my heartbeat. "What are you doing?"
I respond with a playful lift of my eyebrows, the corners of my mouth tugging upwards into a knowing smile. "I've heard that to stay connected, we must seize every opportunity. And the way I see it, Señora Cervantes," I emphasize, letting each word drip with intent, "this is one of those golden opportunities."
Her response is a narrowed gaze, though the warmth in her eyes belies any feigned skepticism. Yet, without a word, she rises to the tips of her toes, her arms encircling my neck, pulling us into an embrace that speaks more than words ever can.
I gently cradle Pia in my arms, her laughter filling our bedroom and echoing through me like a symphony of joy. It's a sweet melody, full of life, love, and a deep understanding that only exists between us. Her eyes sparkle with excitement as she gasps for air between giggles. I can't help but smile at how adorable she looks. "You're impossible," she manages.
Lowering her onto our soft bed, I lean to whisper against her lips, "You know I can never resist you." And with that, our lips meet in a passionate kiss that speaks volumes of our deep connection. Our bodies move together seamlessly, fueled by desire, tenderness, and an intimacy that has only grown stronger since becoming parents to Giancarlo.
My body aches to be inside hers, and the outside world fades away as we lose ourselves in each other. We explore each other's skin with eager hands and hungry kisses. As new parents, these moments alone are a rare luxury we savor deeply. At this moment, there is nothing else but us, our love and passion igniting like wildfire.
Pia's hands roam over my back, igniting a fire within me that always burns for her. "We should really start getting ready," she whispers teasingly, though her actions betray her words as she pulls me closer while my arousal presses against her.
I smile against her skin, murmuring in agreement before adding, "But let's not rush this moment." We give ourselves to each other in blissful abandon, stealing these precious moments before returning to the whirl of family life and responsibilities.
Grasping these fleeting instants where it's only Pia and me, I realize they're what I value above all. It's in the quiet that we find our strength, a reminder of the core of us against the tumult of the world. These moments serve as our bedrock, a reminder of what counts the most.
