Vulnerable.
But powerful.
“Rest now,” the midwife said gently during the short break.
“Breathe. Let your body recover.”
I collapsed back slightly against the pillows — chest rising and falling rapidly.
“Next contraction,” she continued softly, “we get her out.”
Her.
My heart skipped.
A girl?
The word echoed in my mind.
I hadn’t asked.
I hadn’t allowed myself to assume.
But hearing it confirmed made something inside me crack open.
The next surge hit harder than the previous ones.
My body reacted automatically.
“Push, Elena!”
I grabbed the rails again.
Held my breath.
And pushed.
“Hold it — ten seconds!”
“Nine!”
“Eight!”
“Keep bearing down!”
I screamed.
Not from pain alone.
From power.
From release.
From years of fear collapsing into this moment.
I curled forward — forcing my body to cooperate.
I felt it.
