This is the chapter you all have been waiting for! I have been waiting for it too, to be honest. Read, read, read! (I am glad you guys liked her being a girl)

The doctor wheeled me over to the glass column and I peered in cautiously. Inside, wrapped in a swath of soft pink blankets, was this perfect little baby. She had an unusually pale face, with little brown freckles scattered across her nose. Peeking out from in the blankets were two large, curious eyes, the exact shade of the sky at noon. Lashes the color of buttered toast framed her blue. What set the whole look off, though, was very thick black hair that was spilling out from under the shade of her blanket and tickled her forehead.

I found myself crying. "She's…"I sniffed and looked up at Peeta. "She looks just like you."

Peeta looked as happy as I felt. "She has your hair."

I pressed one of my hands on the glass and watched as my babies' eyes followed my every move. "Where are Mother and Prim?"

"Out in the waiting room." said the doctor who wheeled me in.

"Are you kidding me? Get them in here. They must be dying…" I scowled at the doctor and looked back at the tiny newborn in the glass column. She was staring inquisitively at me and Peeta with her pretty blue eyes.

"She has your eyes…" I said to Peeta.

He nodded and put an arm around me. "She actually looks a lot like me… except for the hair. And the prettiness."

"You're pretty." I laughed through my tears.

"I'm not a girl." He pointed out, smiling with me. "She may be pale and have freckles and blue eyes, but she is very pretty. Just like her mother."

I sniffled again and leaned my head against Peeta. "I wonder if—"

"Katniss!" someone cried behind me.

I twisted around and was rewarded with a sharp pain through the cut in my stomach. My mother and Prim were all but barreling towards me. I caught Prim with one of my arms and she hugged me around my neck.

"Primrose, look." I pulled her gently away and pointed through the glass.

My little sister pressed her face up against the glass and gasped. "He's beautiful!"

I laughed. "It's a girl."

As I expected, she squealed with excitement. "Have you named her yet?"

"I promised you could name her if it was girl, didn't I?" I smiled as I watched Prim giggled.

"I-I don't know!" she laughed, and to my surprise, Prim actually threw her arms around Peeta and hugged him.

After a second of hesitating, Peeta patted her on the head.

"Oh, she is beautiful!" My mother exclaimed, and turned to the doctors, who were standing near the door, smiling. "May we hold her?"

That is when the doctor shook his head sadly. "We can't let you do that yet, I'm afraid."

I frowned. "Well, why not?"

"Your daughter is not in the best health."

I immediately switched to my nasty defensive-teenager mode. "What do you mean 'she is not in the best health'?"

"We were very nearly almost late saving her." The doctor began. "You knew that she was in risk of getting the umbilical cord around her neck and dying, but no one thought that you would have another attack so soon. Her heart stopped twice already, so she has to be monitored until we are positive she is safe to go."

I started crying again, but this time, I had reason. "But why can't I hold her?"

"She is hooked up to half a dozen different machines." One of the other doctors nudged some of the tubes hanging out of the column. "Until we can unhook her from those machines, she is not able to be held."

I coughed. Well, my life sucks. All of this crap has been happening to me, and when things finally settle down (or so I thought), I just had to have a daughter that might die at any second and I couldn't hold her until she got better. I resisted the urge to tell the doctors how much I hated them. Instead, I had an idea. "Well, you guys are going to have some trouble because I am not leaving this room until I can take her home."

The doctors exchanged weird looks. "This room is closed to public from ten o' clock in the evening to four in the morning. Between those hours it is only monitored by cameras."

"That is going to cause some problems for you then, won't it?" I glared at each of them in turn.

Then one of the younger doctors piped up, "We have control of your drug supply and your wheelchair."

"Well, whoop-dee-do you for you." I said sarcastically.

"Katniss…" Peeta put his arms around my shoulders.

"She's my baby, Peeta!" I cried, shrinking away from his touch.

"And mine, too. We can't take any more risks. She could—"

I interrupted him. "Why are you always like that?" I cried, hugging my arms to myself. "'Don't take risks' you say. 'Be careful'. 'Think of what will happen to you'. I don't always have to act as though I need to be wrapped in bubble wrap! Stop being such a pessimist." I sniffled.

Peeta frowned. "I'm just concerned about what is best for you."

"Well not all of it is about me! I'm fine! What about our daughter, huh?" Tears were flowing down my face, and it was all I could do not to scream at the top of my lungs at him.

"Katniss," He looked away, face hard with hurt. "I love our daughter as much as you do, but I need to think about the consequences as a whole."

I stifled a sob and wiped my eyes. "I'm going to go now. Nobody should try to stop me."

The doctors watched me as I turned away from Peeta and my family, and shuffled out wearing only the thin hospital gown and a horrified face.

I am having quite a battle with myself, here. See, I didn't really think about making Katniss and Peeta fight. It just sort of happened. Don't worry. I will fix things later. PLEASE DON'T HATE ME FOR DOING THAT!