“You do.”
“Now,push, Harper,” Dr. Solano directed.
Harper’s face pinched in concentration, her mouth snapped shut, and her hand clamped down on mine. With the last of her breath and the pushing, Harper let out a loud yell.
“Okay, breathe in between contractions,” said the doctor.
“Can I push in-between the contractions?” Harper pleaded.
“Hold off until I tell you to. You’re almost there. I can just about see the baby’s hair color.”
Harper’s back straightened and a faint light lit her eyes. Hearing confirmation that our baby was almost here seemed to renew her strength.
“Here comes another one. Are you ready?” Dr. Solano asked.
Harper gave a terse nod and closed her eyes. She bore down with a grunt.
“I have her head. One more good push and you’ll be done, Harper,” the doctor said, encouraging her now that the burst of strength had seemed to pass.
“Is she okay? What if she’s stuck, and I can’t get her out?” Harper’s voice broke.
“She’s completely fine, Harper. Focus on my voice. It’s time to push again.”
“Just one more, babe. You can do it.”
Tears streamed down Harper’s cheeks. “Okay, one more.”
With a cry like a warrior running into battle, Harper squeezed my hand, drew in a deep breath, and pushed. As soon as the contraction was over, she slumped back on the bed, and the sweetest sound was heard in the room.
Our daughter’s cry.
“You did it. You amaze me every day,” I whispered to Harper, hardly able to believe our sweet girl was here.
“Dad, want to cut the cord?” The nurse asked.
Pride puffed out my chest. They’d called me Dad. I let go of Harper’s hand, took the scissors, and cut where the nurse pointed. My gaze fell on the squirming bundle in the doctor’s arms. Her face was squished, and her eyes shut. When her mouth opened and let out another wail, my heart clenched.
The doctor passed our baby over to lay her across Harper’s chest. Her arms instantly wrapped around the baby, and she murmured too soft for me to hear, but what I imagined were words of love.
Our daughter opened her eyes, and captured my heart. Tears pricked at my eyes. “Hello, baby girl.” I said. She looked so tiny in her mother’s arms.
“Have you thought of a name yet?” The nurse asked quietly from beside us.
“Harmony,” Harper whispered. We’d decided to keep the H name tradition alive. “Isn’t she perfect?”
“She is.” My heart swelled with love I’d never imagined possible. I’d lay down my life for both Harper and Harmony. With one glance my little girl had me wrapped around her little finger just like her mother. My world, my life felt complete. We were truly a family.
