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“No, the baby is coming now,” the doctor said. “I’m going to need you to start pushing.”
I looked at Cato, like I expected him to fix this somehow.
He stood at my bedside and held my hand. “She doesn’t like to waste time. She’s definitely my daughter.”
“I don’t think I can do it.” I looked into his blue eyes and admitted my weakness. I was usually strong, regardless of the situation, but right now, I was terrified. “My mom’s not here, and I always thought she would be here… I can’t do this. I can’t push this person out of my body. It’s not physically possible.”
“Baby, baby.” He gripped my hand. “Calm down.”
“You calm down,” I hissed.
“I’m sorry your mother couldn’t be here, but I am here. We’ll get through this together. There’s no time to be scared, Siena. Our daughter needs you to push, so you need to start pushing. Think about her.”
That seemed to be the exact advice I needed. Now that she was coming into the world, I wasn’t important anymore. She was the most important thing in our lives, and instead of giving in to the fear, I needed to get her into my arms as quickly as possible. “Alright…I can do it.”
“I know you can, baby.”
Hours later, she arrived.
The doctor cleaned her up and wrapped her in a warm pink blanket before he carried her to me. She was crying at the top of her lungs, but the sound didn’t irritate me at all. It was a normal reaction when entering the cold air of the world. “Here she is.” He handed her over.
My body was exhausted from the labor. My legs shook from pushing so hard, and I was tired from not sleeping well for the last few nights. But the hard part was over—and my reward was finally given to me.
I would never forget this moment, holding my daughter for the very first time. “Martina…” I held her with both arms and looked at her tiny fingers. She still cried hysterically, but my ears seemed to automatically morph into mom ears, able to handle the high-pitched cries. Her eyes were closed because she hadn’t opened them just yet, and I waited to see their color. I hoped she had Cato’s eyes. I wanted to see him every time I looked at her.
Her eyes opened—and they were blue like the ocean.
“Just like your father.” I brought her head to my mouth and kissed her forehead. “You’re so perfect.” I stared into her face with a permanent smile on my lips. Slowly, her cries stopped as she became just as entertained by looking at me as I was looking at her.
I’d had a special relationship with my mother, and it broke my heart that she wasn’t here for this moment. I’d always assumed she would teach me everything about being a mom—because she was the best mom in the world. I knew she would be overjoyed to see her granddaughter, to babysit her as much as possible so I could have time off with Cato. But she wasn’t here…and I was starting my own family without her.
Cato stood over me and stared at Martina in silence. He was silent and still, taking in the moment with an expression that was impossible to read. He didn’t seem happy or sad. He seemed…overwhelmed. One moment, it was just the two of us, and then it became the three of us. This little girl had been the result of an accident, but that accident turned into the best thing to ever happen to us. She saved my life…and she made Cato into a better man.
“You want to hold her?” I whispered.
Like he hadn’t heard a word I said, he continued to stand there. He didn’t extend his arms or give any indication he’d heard me. His breathing was deep and heavy, the emotion clearly flooding his veins. He finally came to terms with his thoughts and extended his arms to make the transfer.
I placed her in his arms and let go.
Cato held her with a single arm because she was so small in comparison to his size. He moved his other hand under her head then lifted her toward his face so he could get a closer look at her.
Martina didn’t cry. Only faint coos came from her little mouth.
I watched them together, watched the weight of the moment overcome Cato. The instant I went into labor, the reality of my life hit me hard. But it didn’t happen for him until he saw her face for the first time.
“Sweetheart, you’re beautiful,” he whispered to her, having a private conversation between father and daughter. “Just like your mother.” He brought her forehead to his lips and kissed her the way I had.
I felt the tears burn in my eyes. It didn’t matter how much pain I was in or how exhausted I was. This scene moved me to tears.
