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Unexpected Love Story (Love 2) Natasha Madison 2022/8/3 13:51:06

“No,” I say, looking at her and then Gabe. “Override her. You’re a doctor, and she’s a nurse. Tell her she’s wrong.”

“Doll face.” He leans down kissing me.

“No,” I say, shaking my head, the tears coming now. “No, no, no, I can’t do this without drugs.”

“Yes, you can,” he tells me. “You’re the strongest person I know.”

For the next hour, the contractions come fast and hard, so hard, I’m crying out in pain. Gabe looks like he’s about to throw a shit fit with the nurse. “Time to see what’s going on down there,” Jackie says. “Perfect,” she says, getting up and going to the phone. “Dr. Sprung, it’s time,” she says, and then springs into action, turning the light on in the crib. She unfolds the blankets as Dr. Sprung comes in.

“I heard someone is ready to meet their parents?” he says all chipper and shit, and I swear I want to kick him in the balls.

“I need drugs,” I say, panting, the sweat dripping from my forehead. I’m so tired. I’m so, so tired; it feels like I just ran a fucking marathon without resting.

“Doll face,” Gabe says, grabbing my hand while Jackie puts my feet up in the stirrups. “We are going to meet our baby.”

Dr. Sprung puts on his gloves, sitting on the stool, and scoots over to me. “I can see the baby’s head, so when you have your next contraction, I need you to bear down and push,” he says, looking at the monitor. “Another one is coming so get ready. And push.”

Gabe, Jackie, and Hailey all count to ten while I bear down and push with everything I have. “Okay, now breathe. That was good,” he says, and for the next forty-five minutes, I push and push and push.

“It’s too much,” I cry, my body limp. “I can’t do it anymore,” I say, my eyes closing. “I just … it hurts so much,” I sob.

“The baby’s heart rate is dropping,” Jackie says, and my eyes spring open. “Dr. Sprung.”

Gabe bends down next to me, pushing my sweaty hair away from my face and looking in my eyes. “Doll face, I know you’re tired,” he says, his thumb catching the tear running down my face. “You’ve done so good.” He kisses my nose. “So fucking good, but you need to try one more time.”

I sob. “I can’t. I just can’t.”

I don’t hear what is going on around me until I hear Dr. Sprung. “We need to get the baby out.” He looks at me. “Crystal, it’s important we get the baby out.”

“Gabe.” I look at him.

“You can do this. You are so strong.”

“Push,” Dr. Sprung says. “Keep pushing, keep pushing,” he says, and I push with everything I have left. “Okay, stop pushing, the head is out,” he says while Gabe looks down and tears are flowing down his face. “Okay, one more big push. Go, go, go, go.”

I push so hard, I yell out while I push and then the most beautiful thing in the world is happening when the doctor places my baby on my chest and the tears rip through me. “Oh my god, my baby,” I say, grabbing the baby on my chest. Gabe’s hands cover mine, and the only thing I can say is, “My baby.” I laugh and cry all at the same time, the baby’s wails filling the room.

“Congratulations, you have a daughter,” Dr. Sprung says, and just like that, my dreams come true. The dreams that haunted me ever since I got here have come true.

I look up at Gabe, who kisses me. “I love you.”

“We have a daughter.” I look at Hailey who has her hand over her mouth and cries softly. “I have a daughter.” Words that I never thought I would say.

I look down at my daughter, her eyes blinking while she quietly looks around. “Hey, beautiful, it’s me, Mommy,” I say, smiling. The tiredness gone, the pain all worth this moment right here. With my daughter lying on my chest, and the man who I would move mountains for by my side, I have my love story. This is my love story. It may not be conventional, it may not be the way I would have planned it, but it is the right one for me.

We met unexpectedly, the universe already aligning our stars, and no matter what we did, it was always going to be us. No matter what we did, it was always our unexpected that turned into love.

Four Years Later . . .

“Daddy, Daddy, look, a seashell,” Savannah yells, running to pick up the shell she just spotted. Her blond curls blow in the wind when she finds it and turns to wave at her mother who sits with her coffee in her hand. We are taking our daily walk on the beach while Crystal sits on the sand, watching us. She never did come back to work. Nope, not my wife. She stayed home and made every single moment count. I don’t even think that Savannah has cried more than ten tears since she was born. Thinking about it makes me smile.