The ache in my back sharpens as I pace the length of our new bedroom. John is at the office with Alex, and Peggy is with me while Eliza tends to Philip, who has been fussy with teething. The pain increases, comes on faster.
"Peggy," I gasp out and she looks up at me. "Fetch the midwife and John. Hurry!"
She looks at me with wide eyes, insists I lay down on the bed, and then she does as I ask, I hear her run down the stairs of my new home, a wedding gift from my father, that I am still surprised John was willing to accept. The maid we have managed to hire checks on me every now and then, though I continue to send her to check for the midwife and John's arrival.
The aches grow sharper, more pressing, and I grit my teeth as my door opens, the midwife making her entrance, and then I hear the heavy footfalls on the stairs. John is at the door his foot stopping the midwife from closing the door on him.
Please, let him enter. I need him with me. She relents and then takes her place at the foot of the bed, lifting my nightgown. John is at my side, and I reach for his hand, and he grunts at the strength of my grip.
"If he is to be here, he may as well be useful," she says, and he asks, "What do you need of me?"
"Get behind her, help her sit up, it makes the bearing down easier," she says.
He's quick to get behind me, leans back against the head of our bed, and as gently as he can pulls me against him to help me sit up. I cry at the movements and as the pain, ache, and pressure combine.
The child is close she says, and something feels like it ruptures within me and as the bed becomes wet, she tells me to bear down.
John gives me his hand to clutch, leaning forward against me, his lips at my ear as he murmurs encouragement, his other hand keeping my hair from my face. I grit my teeth, grunting and trying to contain my urge to cry out, bear down, again and again, every time the midwife orders. I give one more push and feel a release as something slides free of me.
The midwife makes quick work of clearing the baby's mouth, as John kisses the side of my neck and tears slip down my face as we watch the child move and finally cry out. The midwife passes the child to me, and John helps me hold our little girl as the midwife helps to deliver the afterbirth, a much quicker process than the birth.
"You are the best of women, and she is beautiful," John whispers against my ear as he holds out his finger to our daughter's tiny hand.
I turn my head to see his face, the look of wonder makes my heart stutter for a moment. I barely recall the midwife cleaning me and the baby up, helping me to feed the baby for the first time, and seeing to my recovery. When it is time to clear away the bedclothes, I hold the baby as John lifts me up and holds me as the linens are taken care of and our bed cleaned.
He's careful as he returns us to the bed, and we share kisses and look at the baby.
"She needs a name," I whisper. We have discussed several, but now she is here, and my heart swells with the need to give him the gift of naming her.
"Alexandra?" he suggests, and given how our Alexander is the reason we have this moment, I cannot think of a better name.
"Alexandra Eleanor Laurens," I whisper, and I meet his eyes.
"Thank you," he replies, "Thank you for allowing me to be here, be a part of this. Seeing her enter the world."
I smile at him, "I needed you here. We needed you here. Thank you for her, and for being here, helping me bring her into the world."
We are lost in our own world, time seems suspended, and we are abruptly pulled back by a soft knocking at the door. John looks at me and I nod, knowing the knock is Eliza.
"Come in," he calls to her.
She is surprised at John holding me as I cradle our child, and beyond her is Alexander, a sleeping Philip cradled in his arms. My breath catches at the intensity in his dark eyes and I wonder what he is thinking as he sees John and I together with our child.
"We would like for you to meet Alexandra Eleanor Laurens," I say, and both Eliza and Alexander draw closer.
Eliza's eyes sparkle with tears, and it is to no one's surprise that Alexander breaks the quiet, "She's beautiful. How long did you have to wait to see them, John?"
A grin spreads across John's face as he looks up with pride and meets Alexander's inquiring gaze.
"I didn't wait. I was with Angelica the whole time. I helped with the birth. We saw her enter the world, take her first breath and cry for the first time together," John replies, and the love and pride in his voice for our child makes my heart swell.
Alexander looks bewildered. "You were in here during the birth?"
I look up with a smile, and turn my head to kiss John before I reply, "He was, he held me the whole time, gave me his hand, encouraged me."
"I will be here every time, anytime you or little Lexi needs me," John responds.
I do not miss the sadness in Eliza's eyes, and I say, "Alexander, your opportunity to see the birth of your child is a possibility now that the war is over."
"John, I fear you've set the bar on this," Alexander says with a wry grin, and then he turns to Eliza and says, "Hey, they are doing well, we've seen our beautiful niece and I trust that John and Angelica are more than capable. Let's give them the night. Oh, and John, if you don't make it into the office, I will have the documents for the Harkens estate delivered for your revisions. You have a better eye for sorting estate affairs. Actually, I don't want to see you in the office this week, I'll have the documents sent to you for revision, take your time."
"Thank you," John says, and I do not miss the shared look between them.
"Sure, and when you get back to the office, I will let you know about Washington's offer."
"The Constitutional Convention?" John asks.
Alexander nods and they share a grin between them. Eliza, Alexander, and Philip take their leave of us after, and I sigh, so tired but overjoyed.
John carefully settles us into the bed. I wince, my body aches, but with the baby resting between us, the ache is more than worth it.
"I hope she has your eyes," I say softly as I yawn.
He smiles, presses a kiss to the corner of my mouth, and then a kiss to the top of Alexandra's head. "Get rest, my dearest, compassionate Angelica. I'll stay up, and I'll wake you if she's hungry."
Feeling safe I drift to sleep, holding our daughter, and listening as he whispers, "You'll come of age with our young nation… We'll give the world to you and you'll blow us all away…"
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