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Anna looks up at me with tears glimmering at the tips of her lashes. Her usually bright blue eyes are grey and dull after hours of prolonged effort. Her hand searches for mine and I take it firmly but gently, as if I held a precious treasure.
Her voice is a coarse whisper, “Kristoff, I can’t—”
“Anna, don’t even think you can’t do this,” I assure in a voice more steady and resolute than I feel. ”I’ve seen you take on Earth Giants, run into fire — throw a bunch of carrots at me and demand to be taken up the North Mountain!”
A weak smile brightens her cheeks at the memory. It feels like ancient history and just yesterday.
”And you saved me from a ravenous pack of wolves.”
”I nearly set you on fire!”
”But you didn’t! And this? This you can do too.”
Anna doesn’t get the chance to respond as her breath is taken away by the next wave of contractions that course through her body. She’s trying to be brave, not let it show, but this flash of pain comes quicker than before and overwhelms her, a visceral moan forcing her to double over.
My resolve is beginning to crack as I witness my wife in so much agony, but there’s no time to worry about my personal discomfort as she suddenly grips my hand hard, crushing my fingers. Her scream is desperate and raw.
”KRISTOFF!”
”Anna!” Both my hands envelope hers, holding it steady against my heart. Squeezing back in reassurance, the combined force turns our knuckles white.
Before I know what’s happening, Anna flops back into the pile of pillows, tears streaming down her face, chest heaving but all tension in her body released.
A sharp cry pierces the air and the strangest, most wonderful thing appears from below the sheets across Anna’s thighs.
My wife’s hand slips from my cocoon and holds the tiny being to her bare chest. I hold them both in my arms, with just enough room to breathe but intended to never let them go. For a moment everything else is fiction, our laughs and sobs defining our new reality.
Tending hands, towels, instruments and calls for hot water quickly crowd our intimate space and I stumble back, my head spinning, throat dry, heart full.
………..
“While the doctor is here, you might want to ask him to take a look at your hand — I think I broke it!” Again my Anna’s smile is bright. Her fingers swirl over my wrist, pausing to caress my knuckles before coming to rest on the swaddled bundle held close in the crook of her elbow.
I can’t hold back the genuine smile on my face when I take in everything before me — not that I’d want to.
”Worth it.”
Pressing a tender kiss to her cheek, I brush a stray lock of sweat soaked hair behind her ear and softly stroke the length of her arm. My hand finds the same destination as hers. Our fingers lace together.
“You did so well, but you must be exhausted. Do you need anything? More blankets? Hot tea? A sandwich?”
Her free hand traces the stubble of my jaw as she takes in every detail of my face. Her eyes become glossy and lock with mine — like the flick of a switch they suddenly burn intensely with both protective ferocity and infinite love.
“I already have everything I need, Kristoff. Right here.”