Prologue
"Damn it, John! How could you do this to me?!"
"It'll be okay, babe. Just a little bit longer, and it will be all over."
"I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU! I HAAAAARRGGGHHH…. I hate you."
"I know, Hannah. I know," he said with a smile.
As John looked down at his wife, he could not have imagined a more beautiful sight. Where others would see a woman in agonizing torment with beads of sweat dripping down her redden face from exertion, he saw a serene goddess. Where others would see the white knuckles and vice-like grip that she had on the bed railing and her husband's hand, he saw a loving embrace that allowed him to share some of her pain. Where others would see a woman spitting venomous daggers disguised as words, he saw tenderness and caring.
"If you ever do this to me again, I will kill you and have you mounted in our home so the kids will still have their father figaaAAARRRGGGHHH."
The doctor buried under the sheets that wrapped Hannah's legs broke her train of thought. "The baby is crowning! One more push, Hannah, and his head will be out."
"Can't you give me something, Doc? Anything to ease the pain?"
"Hannah, you've been in labor for 12 hours now. We are a little past an epidural or other analgesics now. You're almost there."
John wiped the sweat off his wife's face with a cool washcloth. "You're almost done, hun. We're almost there."
If she could, Hannah would have shouted at him, "WHAT DO YOU MEAN WE!?" Unfortunately, all she could do was bare her teeth and look at him with such a vindictive, fiery stare that it sent a shiver down the nurses' spines. But John just stood there, looking back lovingly with a smile on his face, that disarming, charismatic smile that made her melt.
As she felt another contraction come, she squeezed every muscle in her body to get this little demon that not only made her carry it through last 10 months, but also took its sweet time being delivered. Hannah heard a gasp escape her husband's lips. She squeezed down harder on his hand, to remind herself that he is there supporting her and to cause him as much pain as possible for putting her through this.
As the contraction lessoned, the Doctor said, "The head is out. One more and this will all be over."
John turned to his wife and opened his mouth to speak, but was quickly halted Hannah's commanding tone.
"I swear to God, John. Say one thing and I will crush all of the little bones in this hand."
John took the hint and simply nodded, still grinning. He wiped away the beads of sweat that had begun to form and watched her as she drew in shallow breaths to get ready for the next and, hopefully, final contraction. He felt the contraction before he saw her push as her hand squeezed his. Never before had he felt such a force and feared that his bones would not be able to take the pressure and be pulverized into dust.
As John noticed the stress on his hand lessen, he caught the doctor whisking the newborn away to check on its vitals and suck any remaining fluid out of his or her lungs.
"You did it, babe. You did it. It's over," John whispered softly as he placed his forehead on his wife's. He felt the fire and sweat emanating off her and the deep, gasping breaths as she tried to recover from the amount of work she had just been put through.
After a few moments, the new parents heard a sound that, at the time, brought joy and pride. They heard their baby cry, intense, loud, and strong. Within a week, they will grow to hate the sound, but it demonstrated the strength and health of their newborn for now.
"Congratulations. It looks like Mindoir has another boy to celebrate," the doctor said as he handed the new baby boy to his mother. "Have you picked out a name for him yet?"
John looked down at their new bundle of joy and then to his wife. With a slight nod and the brightest smile he has seen her give since their wedding day, she gave her consent to the name he chose.
"We're going to name him after my dad. Troy. Troy Rexford Shepard."