I've decided to write this chapter from Martin's point of view. Hope you don't mind the change.

Chapter Twenty Four

My wife is absolutely incredible.

Now that it was all over, I watched her as she slept peacefully in the hospital bed, looking more beautiful than I had ever seen her. I couldn't believe how amazing the whole thing had been, especially since, as a doctor, I had seen the process countless times before. This time, I was made to look at it through a husband's—and a father's—eyes. It made me love and respect Anna all the more, that her body could go through so much pain and trauma and how she took it all in stride, in the end giving birth to an actual tiny human being…our daughter.

I have a daughter.

It had begun quite anti-climactically enough the morning before. It was mid-August and hot—stiflingly hot—and my eight months pregnant wife was understandably miserable. She came into the consulting room between patients, approaching me behind my desk and kissing me.

"You're very flushed," I commented, feeling her forehead with the back of my hand. "Are you feeling all right?"

"I have a rotten headache…I actually came to see if you thought it would be okay to take some paracetamol," she answered. She rubbed her forehead absently, and I knew she wouldn't be asking about the pain reliever if she didn't really need it.

"Sit down here and let me take your blood pressure," I instructed, gesturing to the chair across from the desk.

"I'm sure it's just the heat," she protested, but did as I asked. "I feel fine otherwise."

"Any change to your vision?" I asked. She looked off into the distance for a few seconds.

"A little blurry," she admitted.

I strapped the cuff to her arm and squeezed the bulb to inflate it, listening to the sound of her pulse in my ears. I didn't like what I heard.

"Anna, your blood pressure is one fifty over ninety five," I announced, dismayed. "It's no wonder you have a headache…that is much too high."

"Do you think there's something wrong?" she asked, worried. "Could it be pre-eclampsia?"

"It's very possible it could develop into it if we aren't careful. Let's wait a few minutes and take a reading again…in the meantime, I want you to drink some water and put your feet up."

Anna moved to the living room and reclined on the couch while I got her a glass of tap water, and she drank it dutifully. I examined her feet and ankles, but there didn't seem to be much swelling. In a few minutes, I took her blood pressure again, and this time the reading was 151/94.

"I think we should call Dr. Hall and find out how to proceed," I told Anna. I noticed the tears start to well up in her eyes, and I quickly kissed her on the forehead, adding, "there's nothing to worry about yet…let's just see what Dr. Hall says, all right?" She nodded, sniffing.

I immediately called Dr. Hall, who told us to meet her at the hospital in Truro. "I'd like to admit her and monitor her for a while, check her urine for protein…and we'll go from there," she said. I was relieved, because it was exactly what I would have done in the situation.

It took a little while to get Anna settled into a private room, but by that afternoon, she was resting comfortably. I, on the other hand, was trying very hard to hide my anxiety about the situation. This was my wife, not just another patient, and I was worried about her. She was still complaining of a headache and her blood pressure continued to be far too high for my liking. When the nurse came in, I am afraid I was very abrupt with her.

"When are you going to give her something for the pain she is experiencing?" I barked. "And have the urine tests come back yet?"

Anna put her hand on my arm, frowning. "Sorry," she said, turning to the nurse. "If it's okay, could I get some paracetamol or something for this headache?" The nurse nodded at her, gave me a distasteful glance, and left the room.

"Martin, I don't need another doctor…right now I just need my husband, okay? So if you could not be so rude to the nurses, I'd really appreciate it," she said wearily. "Let them do their job. Your job is to…I don't know…feed me ice chips and rub my back or something."

I blinked at her. "Do you…want me to do those things for you?" I asked curiously.

She laughed. "Not yet. I was only joking. Right now what I want more than anything is a cuddle, but I don't think we'll both fit in this bed."

I pulled the chair as close as I could to her bed and took her hand, kissing it. "Will this do for now?" I asked.

She beamed at me. "Yes, this is perfect." She sighed. "Do you think Dr. Hall will induce me?"

"It's very possible, yes."

She smiled. "Can you believe we might be leaving here with a baby?" she said softly.

The very thought made my stomach flip nervously. "Are you…prepared for that scenario?" I asked haltingly.

"I guess as much as I can be," she laughed. "It just seems so surreal. And there's something oddly romantic about us being here together, waiting…this may be the last night it will just be the two of us." She looked at me wistfully.

What a strange thought. It wouldn't be just Anna and myself anymore…we would be three, a proper family. I let my mind wander, imagining what it would be like to take our baby home, it sleeping in the crib at the foot of our bed. Anna's pregnancy seemed to have gone by so quickly.

I leaned over and kissed her, breathing her in, and placed my hand on her round belly. I could feel our baby kick and roll underneath my hand…a sensation of which I never could get enough. "I love you," I whispered.

"I love you too," she answered, her eyes shining.

By late evening, the tests on Anna's urine had come back and Dr. Hall had decided it was time to induce, starting a Syntocinon drip—a common drug used to encourage contractions. It only took a few hours before Anna was experiencing them every few minutes.

"Ow…ow…why does my back hurt so badly?" she exclaimed through gritted teeth as another contraction hit her.

"It could be back labor…it's when the uterus is in a posterior position and…" I began, but she glared at me.

"I. DON'T. NEED. ANOTHER. DOCTOR," she growled, breathing hard. "Please, Martin!"

"Yes…sorry," I answered sheepishly, wincing as she squeezed the feeling out of my hand. "What can I do to help you?"

She blew out through the last of the contraction and took a deep breath. "Could you sit behind me and rub my back, please?"

"Of course," I said. I began to sit down, and then realized the suit coat and tie I was wearing were not going to be conducive to the situation. I quickly removed them and rolled up my sleeves, sitting behind Anna on the bed and rubbing her gently between the shoulder blades.

"No, lower back…my hips," she instructed, "and push as hard as you can."

"Are you sure? I don't want to hurt you."

"You won't hurt me, I promise," she smirked. "Just rub really hard next contraction."

I did as I was told, and it seemed to help a tiny bit. I felt helpless and useless as the woman I loved was in such obvious discomfort. I was extremely relieved when Dr. Hall came in to examine Anna and recommended she get an epidural.

"Each contraction is making your blood pressure go up, and it's not good for you or the baby," she told her. "An epidural will make you more relaxed as the labor progresses. I strongly recommend it." Anna was all too happy to oblige.

And not long after, in a whirlwind, Anna was pushing…and there was a cry…and our daughter was here. Harper Joan Ellingham was born at dawn, weighing seven pounds and with a head full of golden brown hair. I could feel tears burning in my eyes as I kissed my remarkable wife, amazed at her strength, awed by her beauty. My hands shook as I cut the umbilical cord, and Harper showed us just how strong her lungs were. I smoothed my hand over her head and murmured to her, and she quieted, looking up at me with huge, dark eyes. My daughter.

And now I couldn't stop looking at the two of them. Anna was awake now, and Harper was at her breast, having a feed. I sat next to them in the chair, feeling the effects of being awake all night and the adrenaline that had been surging through me. But despite my weariness, I had never felt so happy.

"Martin, look at what we made," Anna whispered, awed. "She's perfect."

"Yes," I answered. What I wanted to say was my heart was almost bursting in my chest from the pride I felt. Now we were three. I had a family.