Page 136 of Through the Storm

I cling to him like he’s the only solid thing in the room. And somehow, impossibly, my body listens. Everything narrows.

The room feels too bright and too far away at the same time, like I’m underwater. My body is exhausted in a way I didn’t know was possible—shaking, empty, spent.

The doctor tells me to push again and I laugh weakly. No. It’s impossible.

“I don’t have anything left,” I whisper.

Ben’s hand tightens around mine. “You do.” His voice is soft. “Just a little more. I’m right here.”

I look at him. His hair is damp with sweat, jersey wrinkled and stained, eyes red and focused entirely on me. Like nothing else in the world exists.

“Okay,” I breathe.

The next contraction builds slowly, giving me just enough warning to panic.

“Ben,” I whimper. “I’m so tired.”

He leans down, forehead pressing into mine. “I know. But you’re not alone. You haven’t been alone this whole time.”

The doctor’s voice cuts in gently. “Okay, Katy. Big push.”

I bear down with everything I have left.

The pressure is overwhelming and I cry out, gripping Ben’sshoulders as my body does what it needs to do.

“Good,” he murmurs urgently. “That’s it. I’ve got you. I won’t let go. And see? You haven’t mooed in this entire time.”

I don’t know how long I push. I lose track of the counting, the voices, the world.

Then suddenly?—

“Okay,” the doctor says. “One more. This is it.”

I shake my head, sobbing. “I can’t. I can’t.”

Ben cups my face, forcing my eyes to his. His voice drops low and steady.

“Yes, you can.” He steadies me. “This is the last one. We’re right there.”

I nod shakily.

When the contraction hits, I push harder than I thought possible. Everything burns. Everything stretches. I scream his name without even meaning to.

And then?—

A sound cuts through the room. Sharp. New. Alive. For a second, I don’t understand what I’m hearing.

Then the doctor smiles wide. “That’s your baby.”

My whole body goes slack.

I start crying immediately, huge, heaving sobs that come from somewhere deep and broken open.

“Oh my God,” I gasp. “Oh my God.”

Ben lets out a sound that’s half laugh, half sob. His hands are shaking now, even though he’s trying to stay steady for me.

“You did it,” he whispers, awed. “You did it.”