“Baby… stay with me,” I beg.
“I can’t,” she whimpers. “I…can’t.”
Another contraction builds and I feel it in the way her fingers dig into my arm, the way her breath stutters.
“Big one coming,” the nurse warns.
“Push!” the doctor yells.
She screams, veins popping in her neck, and I’m praying to Jesus, Allah, Buddha, Odin, or whoever is listening. Please let this baby come already. Let this end soon.
But it doesn’t. Time stretches and I lose track of how long she’s pushing. All I know is that her strength shouldn’t be possible and somehow, she finds it again and again.
“I can see the head,” someone says.
I don’t look. I can’t. My entire world is this woman, breaking apart in my arms.
“One more,” the doctor says. “Give me one more good push.”
Katy shakes her head, crying. “I can’t
