THE BIRTH OF THEIR DAUGHTER

The pregnancy journey wasn’t as difficult as she expected because she had the biggest support she couldn’t have asked for. Victor was always by her side; he would not let her do any stressful work. It felt like they were pregnant together. Just as he had promised, he was by her side all through.

Nine months went by almost quickly, and soon it was time to welcome their precious little child. It started with a dull ache; Rory sat in her home office, typing away at a proposal for a new project, when she felt a tight squeeze low in her abdomen. She frowned, pressing a hand to her belly.

Not now.

She still had three weeks left.

Shaking it off, she continued working, but then another contraction hit, this one sharper.

She gasped, gripping the edge of the desk.

Victor was in the living room, speaking to one of his gallery curators over the phone when he heard her. The sharp inhale, the chair scraping back. He turned just as Rory braced herself against the desk, her face paling.

He dropped his phone.

"Rory?" His voice was urgent as he rushed to her side. "What’s wrong?"

She let out a slow breath, trying to downplay it. "I think... I think it’s starting."

Victor’s eyes widened. "You think?" He placed a hand on her belly as if trying to feel the truth for himself. "How far apart are the contractions?"

"I don’t know, I wasn’t exactly timing them."

Victor pulled out his phone. "Okay, we time them now."

Just as he said that another contraction tore through her, stronger this time. Rory’s knees buckled, and Victor caught her, panic flashing across his face.

"Okay, screw timing, let us go over to the hospital!" He reached for his car keys and helped her to the car

Victor had never driven so fast in his life.

He kept one hand on the wheel and the other reaching over to rub Rory’s back as she groaned through another contraction.

"Deep breaths, mi amor," he soothed, even though his own breath was shaky.

Rory shot him a glare between clenched teeth. "If you tell me to breathe one more time, I will kill you before this baby comes out!"

Victor gulped. "Noted."

They swerved into the hospital driveway, and before Rory could even register it, Victor had the car door open, calling for help.

A nurse rushed out with a wheelchair. "Mrs. Dela-Cruz?"

"Yes!" Rory groaned, gripping the car door.

Victor helped her into the wheelchair, his hands shaking slightly as he ran alongside her. "Hang in there, cariño, I’m right here."

The hospital room was bright and sterile, the scent of antiseptic in the air. Rory was barely settled into the bed before another contraction hit.

"AHH!" She clutched Victor’s hand, squeezing hard.

"Okay, we are never having another baby," Victor groaned as her grip nearly crushed his fingers.

The nurse chuckled. "That’s what they all say, sir."

Dr. Patel, a calm, middle-aged woman with sharp eyes and a reassuring voice, walked in. "Alright, Rory, let’s see how far along you are."

Rory barely registered anything beyond the next wave of pain.

Victor wiped the sweat from her forehead, his lips brushing against her temple. "You’re doing amazing, mi amor. I’ve never been prouder of you."

"Shut up and give me drugs," Rory groaned.

Dr. Patel smiled. "Let’s check first."

A few minutes later, she nodded. "You’re about six centimetres dilated. It’s too soon for the epidural, but we can give you something mild for now."

Rory nodded weakly. "Anything. Just anything."

Victor held her hand, his thumb stroking her knuckles. "You are so strong, Rory. I don’t know how you’re doing this."

Rory gave him a weak smirk. "Neither do I, I think I might be dying."

Victor laughed, though his eyes were damp. "No, mi amor, you’re bringing our baby to life."

She was in labour for some hours while Victor stayed by her side, whispering sweet nothings and making jokes even as Rory threatened to strangle him.

At one point, she turned to him, eyes wild. "You did this to me."

Victor nodded solemnly. "I take full responsibility."

Rory groaned as another contraction came. "I swear if one more person tells me to ‘breathe,’ I’m going to—AHH!"

"You’re almost there," the nurse encouraged. "Just a little longer!"

Victor kissed Rory’s forehead, his voice hoarse. "You’re doing it, cariño. You’re doing it."

Then, suddenly, everything changed.

Dr. Patel’s voice turned urgent. "Okay, Rory, this is it. You need to push!"

Rory’s entire body was shaking. "I can’t—I can’t!"

Victor cupped her face. "Yes, you can, mi amor. You’re the strongest person I know. Just one more push."

Rory took a deep breath, gathered every ounce of strength left in her body, and pushed.

And then, the baby came forth with a loud cry.

A wailing, piercing, beautiful cry.

Victor’s breath hitched. "Oh my God…"

Dr. Patel smiled. "It’s a girl!"

Rory collapsed against the pillow, panting, exhausted, tears slipping down her cheeks.

Victor leaned over, pressing a kiss to her forehead, his own face wet. "You did it, baby. She’s here."

A nurse wrapped the tiny, wriggling baby in a blanket and placed her in Rory’s arms.

Rory stared down at her daughter, stunned. She had expected to feel exhaustion or relief but instead, she felt something new, something raw and overwhelming.

Love.

Deep, consuming, terrifying love.

She traced a finger over the baby’s soft cheek. "Hi, Amy," she whispered.

Victor rested his head against Rory’s, gazing at their daughter with wonder. "She’s perfect."

Rory swallowed past the lump in her throat. "Amy means ‘eternal.’ Because our love is forever."

Victor kissed her hand. "It always will be."

And in that moment, Rory knew she was meant to be a mother. She was meant to love this child with everything she had and she always, always would. 

The next day, they were discharged and sent home. Victor had arranged a surprise welcome party for his wife and child. Rory was very surprised to see Harriet in the house waiting for them. She was especially happy to have someone teach her the basics of motherhood.