A/N: This is the last chapter.

EPILOGUE: Mary Anne

It was now mid-February. We were sorry to miss Jessi and Manette's wedding, but that was something that was beyond our control. The doctor told us that at this certain stage of my pregnancy, traveling was not advisable. In fact, about two and a half months ago, we had to turn down the invitation to Bebe and Byron's wedding.

On the upside, we got to see each other for New Year's. You see, Kristy came home from the hospital with baby Daniel two days after Christmas. She said that on Christmas Eve, Jason went home to freshen up later in the morning, then brought their gifts to the hospital, and they had their gift exchange that afternoon. Some of us BSC members, namely the ones who lived in Connecticut and New York, had a New Year's Eve get-together at Kristy and Jason's house. The only ones who weren't there were Claudia, Mallory, Dawn, Logan, and I, so just like the BSC reunion over the summer, we used our WebCams—ours was a wedding present from Dawn and Sunny—to see how much each other's babies had grown.

The Hobart twins—Justin and Andrea, who were the spitting image of Mal—were now crawling. Daniel—or DJ, as Kristy says they call him—looked like both Jason and Kristy, right down to the green eyes; and little Sven, while looking like neither Sam nor Stacey, because he was adopted, could make even the most cold-hearted person melt. Even little Tina, Dawn and Sunny's foster child, was an absolute doll. She even showed me a picture she'd done in kindergarten, and I must say that she's become a girl after Claud's own heart. It was wonderful to see everybody, and we even got to watch the ball drop in Times Square, which reminded me of Stacey's story of being there with her mom during our freshman year of high school.

All in all, a great holiday.

It was dawn on the day before Valentine's Day. I was waking up to make sure I had Logan's gift ready for the next day—and to get his breakfast, since he'd be getting up in about ten minutes—when all of a sudden, I felt something wet on the sheet under me. Did my water just break, or did I wet the bed? I thought.

"Logan?" I whispered.

"Hmm?" he answered, rolling over.

"Logan, it's time."

"It is? Let's get to the hospital right away," he said.

We got dressed, and were soon on our way. During the ride, Logan called the school superintendent to ask for a substitute, as well as our parents and the doctor on his cell phone. I was lost in my own thoughts during the ride, thinking about the BSC babies, which is what I call the children of my fellow Baby-sitters. Mal's twins were now about eight months old, and last week, she posted on Facebook that they were now teething. According to her and Ben, Mal had passed out from blood loss during a C-section, and didn't wake up for almost 24 hours.

Like I said, Kristy actually had her baby on Christmas Eve. When I talked to her on New Year's Eve, she said that after she gave the first push, the baby turned breech. She had the option of either a C-section or manipulating the baby back into a proper position. When Jason teased her about not wanting a C-section after what happened to Mal, Kristy really let him have it!

As we rounded the corner, I was glad that Logan wasn't driving like a maniac, and I'm even happier that he didn't do 104 from the garage to the front door. (At least we own a Jeep, not a Ferrari.) If he had, I would've either made him pull over and let me drive, or even hitched a ride.

A nurse met us with a wheelchair at the hospital entrance. Logan and the nurse helped me out of the Jeep, and the nurse settled me in the wheelchair. When we got inside, Logan signed me in as Dr. Simmons came down the hall. "Hi, Mary Anne," she said.

"Hi," I answered.

"Your labor and delivery room is all ready for you."

"Good. I'll be glad when this is over."

When we got to the room, Logan and the nurse helped me to my feet as I felt the first contraction. Logan rubbed my back until it had passed. After I changed my clothes, Logan and the nurse helped me into the bed, and the nurse hooked me up to the monitors.

Around noon, when the contractions were starting to become seven minutes apart, I actually shouted at the nurse, "I WANT F- DRUGS NOW, BITCH!"

"Okay, okay," the nurse said, very slowly backing away. I guess I'd really scared the daylights out of her. If I'm not mistaken, I think my voice had deepened an octave or two. "Let me get the doctor."

A few minutes later, the doctor came in. "How about an epidural, Mary Anne?" she suggested.

"Sure, anything," I said. "Just give me something."

Dr. Simmons called the anesthesiologist, Dr. Perry, into the room. While Dr. Perry was giving me the epidural, I felt another contraction, so I head-butted Logan in the stomach.

"Ow!" he exclaimed. "Hey, I know this isn't fun, honey, but don't take it out on me!"

When he said that, I felt myself turn red as a beet. "Sorry," I whispered. "It was just the epidural, and that contraction."

"I know, sweetie," Logan said, patting my hair. "Just don't fall apart on me, okay?"

"I won't."

Around 6:00 that evening, the doctor examined me and said, "Well, Mary Anne, time to start pushing."

"I think I'm ready," I stammered. Then, turning to Logan, I whispered, "Well, I guess it's now or never."

After almost an hour of pushing and getting nowhere, the doctor said, "The cord seems to have wrapped itself around the baby's neck, so I'm afraid a C-section is our only option."

"Oh, God," I moaned, falling back against the pillow.

"I'll try not to pass out when the baby's delivered," Logan promised.

"Okay," I said, somehow managing to laugh.

Twenty minutes later, I was lying on my back on the operating table. Logan sat by my head and started stroking my hair and face. At least the doctor had the presence of mind to put some drapes around me so Logan couldn't see the baby being born.

About another twenty minutes later, we heard a baby's cry. "It's a girl!" the doctor announced as she cut the cord from around the baby's neck. "Born at 19:39."

Upon hearing that, I burst into tears. That was the best news I'd heard in a long time. "Can I see her for a minute?" I managed to ask through my tears.

"By all means," the nurse said. "Then I'll take her to the nursery to get her cleaned up, weighed, and measured, and I'll bring her to your room.

"Okay," I agreed.

The nurse held the baby so we were face-to-face with each other. She had my dark hair and Logan's facial features. I had a feeling that she'd be a younger version of me as she grew up. Not too long after I found out I was pregnant, Logan and I had a talk, and we agreed that if something happened to one of us, and the other person had to raise her alone, we wouldn't go overboard in raising her, like Dad did with me, so she has nothing to worry about. If that scenario ever did occur, our parents have every reassurance that we could handle it on our own, so we wouldn't have to prove anything to anyone. We also promised not to keep the baby from seeing both sets of grandparents, like I'd been kept from my mother's parents for twelve years.

"Hi, baby," I said. "We'll call you Mimi Josephine Bruno, after Claudia Kishi's grandmother."

"Mimi Josephine Bruno, after Claudia Kishi's grandmother," the nurse repeated, writing it down on the birth certificate, as Logan put his camera phone away. The two of us looked at her with expressions that said, Huh?

Then the nurse smiled and said, "Don't worry, I just wrote her name down."

Logan and I sighed with relief as the nurse signed the birth certificate and took little Mimi to the nursery to do as she'd promised. The doctor also finished and signed the birth certificate. Shortly after that, I was taken to the recovery room.

I just knew that little Mimi's namesake was up in heaven watching over her. I think we all did.

And so began a whole new generation of the Baby-sitters Club.

THE END