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I ignore the pain. I ignore the fear.
I push with all that I am, ready to see our little girl.
So ready to hold her in my arms.
I’m vaguely aware of Janice telling me to keep going, of Zayn giving me words of encouragement, of Dax’s soft sobs, of Xeno holding York upright as he passes out. But I’m so much more aware of the strength I have despite the exhaustion, the love I feel despite the pain, and it’s with that strength and that love that I do what women around the world do every second of every day, I give birth to the most precious gift of all.
Sobs erupt from my throat as Janice lifts up my blood and mucus-smeared little girl and places her against my chest. She screams loudly, her tiny little fists bunched, her perfect little face scrunched up in anger as Janice grins, and all my men sob with me. Even York is back on his feet, supported by Xeno as they approach the bed.
“She’s here. She’s finally here,” I cry, clutching her to me, pressing my lips against her soft head as love blossoms inside my heart. It’s wild, this love. Pure. It’s the kind of love my mother should’ve felt for me. The kind of love that is endless and everlasting. The kind of love I share with my Breakers as they gather around us.
I look at each of them in turn, words failing me as her bleating cries abate and she nuzzles against my chest, knowing instinctively that I am hers as much as she is ours. And it doesn’t matter that none of us can form any words, because I know they feel the same way I do, that they feel as deeply as I do. I see it in their eyes, in the tears streaming down their faces, in their smiles, in their utter devotion to us both and to each other.
“Forever,” Xeno eventually says, his voice cracking with emotion.
“And always,” we reply in unison.
The End…
