The room slowly shifted from chaos to a soft hum of quiet voices and gentle movements. Nurses cleaned instruments, adjusted blankets, and dimmed the lights a little. The storm had passed.
Rebecca lay back on the pillow, completely exhausted — but glowing in a way I’d never seen before. Her chest rose and fell in quick breaths as she stared at the tiny bundle resting against her.
Our baby girl.
Her little fingers curled instinctively, gripping onto nothing but life itself. Her small cries softened into faint whimpers as she felt the warmth of her mother’s skin.
Rebecca whispered, “She’s… so tiny.”
Her voice trembled, breaking on every word.
I wiped my face — I didn’t even remember crying that much — and stepped closer. My legs were weak, but something stronger pulled me forward.
A nu
