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“I can tell when one’s coming!” I yell.
I push with everything I have, desperate to get her out.
“It hurts,” I whine. “Get her out,” I beg.
“One more push,” Dr. Hawkins tells me. “One more and she’s here.”
I begin to sob. “It hurts. I can’t do it.”
Xander grabs my hand and I turn to look at him. “You can do this. You’re a warrior. You’re the strongest person I know.” He presses his forehead to mine. “Lean on me. You can do this.”
Another contraction comes and I take a deep breath, bracing myself.
I push as hard as I can, my eyes squished closed.
And then …
Her crying fills the air and they press her warm body to my chest. My eyes pop open and I instantly start sobbing as my eyes land on my daughter.
My daughter.
She’s tiny and pink and wrinkled and perfect.
So damn perfect.
She reaches out with an open fist and grabs Xander’s finger. I look up at him in awe, and tears are streaming down his face.
“You did so good, sweetheart,” he confesses. “She’s perfect.”
She lets out another cry, blinking wide blue eyes up at us. She opens and closes her mouth and I laugh.
“She looks exactly like you,” I tell him. From her dark hair, to her pouty lips, she’s one-hundred percent Xander’s daughter.
“She has your nose, though, thank God for that,” he jokes.
“I like your nose.” He broke it when he was younger and it’s never been the same since. I think the crookedness gives him character.
She stretches out her hand and he chuckles. “She has big hands. Maybe she’s going to be a football player like her daddy.”
I narrow my eyes on him. “And maybe she’ll want to be a stripper? Did you ever think about that?”
He glares back at me. “My daughter is not going to be a stripper—anything but that.”
I shrug and kiss her warm head. “Mommy says she can be anything she wants. Even a stripper.”
“And Daddy says we’ll discuss this more later.”
I laugh, rubbing her plump cheek. “She’s so chunky and perfect,” I murmur.
“Come here, Dad,” Dr. Hawkins instructs. “Why don’t you cut the cord?”
Xander takes the strange looking scissors, looking at them quizzically. “I don’t want to hurt her.”
“It’s fine. Just cut there.” Dr. Hawkins points to the area and Xander cuts the umbilical cord.
The baby gives a little cry and Xander rubs her head. “I’m sorry, baby girl. I know it’s probably so scary here.”
“We need to clean her up,” one of the nurses says, covering the baby with a blanket and plucking her off my chest.
