I can't breathe.
No, that's not fair.
I can breathe.
I just can't think.
Contractions are tearing through me like I'm being split in half.
My fingers are dug so tightly into Raphael's hand that I can see the whiteness of his knuckles even through my own haze.
He doesn't complain.
He just grips back.
"Breathe, Claudia."
"Don't,"I gasp. "Don't tell me to.., ah..,breathe. I'm trying."
He flinches like it's personal.
It's not.
I want to scream and cry and hit him and also hold onto him for dear life all at once.
He knows that.
"Okay,"he says, voice steady. Calm. Unshakable doctor mode. "Okay. Don't breathe. Who needs oxygen."
I bark out a strangled laugh that turns into another groan.
The nurse says something reassuring.
I don't hear her.
I focus on Raphael's face.
The lines around his mouth are tight.
He's trying to hide how scared he is, but I can see it.
"Hey,"I croak between contractions.
"Focus, love."
"No, you."
His eyes narrow. "What?"
"You don't love me anymore."
"What?"He looks like he might actually drop my hand.
I swallow against the tears pricking at my eyes. "Because.., I'm big now. And ugly."
It bursts out of me.
Stupid.
Childish.
True.
I feel huge.
Sweaty.
Raw.
Unmade.
This is the ugliest i've ever been.
For a second he just stares at me, stunned.
Then something breaks in his expression.
Raphael lets out a breath that sounds half like a laugh, half like a sob. He leans forward, forehead pressing to mine.
"Claudia."
I sniff, trembling.
"Hey. Look at me."
My vision swims but i try.
He cups my face, gentle even though i'm squeezing the life out of his other hand.
"I have never loved you more than I do right now," he says roughly.
I make an indelicate snort. "Liar."
"I'm serious. You're the most beautiful woman i have ever seen. Even when you're yelling. Even when you're threatening to kill me. Especially now. Having our daughter."
His voice cracks on that last word.
Another contraction hits and i scream. He doesn't let go.
He doesn't even flinch.
He just tells me over and over that I can do this.
That he's here.
That he's not going anywhere.
-
Time breaks apart.
There's crying.
Shouting.
Instructions i can't remember.
And then—
A sound.
Thin.
High.
Angry.
Alive.
My heart lurches painfully.
They place her on my chest.
She's slippery and red and perfect.
Her weight.
The heat of her.
The frantic rise and fall of her tiny chest.
She quiets at my voice.
I say her name for the first time.
"Anastasia," I whisper.
Raphael's hand is on my hair, trembling.
"Anastasia Isabela Gutierrez," he finishes for me, voice low.
He says it like a promise.
I look up at him through wet lashes.
I remember screaming at him.
Accusing him of not loving me anymore because i was "big and ugly."
He's crying now. He never cries.
I reach for his hand, so much softer now.
"You're stuck with me,"I say weakly.
He huffs out a laugh, kissing my forehead.
"I wouldn't want it any other way."
Sebi appears at the door, clutching his grandfather's hand, eyes huge.
He looks so small suddenly.
"Mom?" he whispers, afraid.
I beckon with exhausted arms.
"Come meet your sister."
He creeps closer, eyes locked on the bundle in my arms.
"She's... tiny," he says reverently.
"Be gentle," Raphael warns in that strict doctor voice that fools no one.
Sebi nods solemnly, touching her head with one careful finger.
"What's her name?"
"Anastasia," I say.
My voice wobbles.
I add, softly, "We used my name too. Isabela. For her second name."
Raphael's hand tightens on my shoulder.
Sebi blinks at us, wide-eyed. "Like you?"
"Like me."
He seems to think about that.
Then he smiles.
"Hi, Stasia," he whispers.
The nurse bustles in to check us over, but for a moment it's just the four of us.
Our family.
Not perfect.
Not whole in every way.
I can't smell her.
Raphael will never truly stop fighting for sleep.
But we have this.
We have us.
And as Anastasia's tiny fingers curl around mine, I know it's enough.
I lean into Raphael's side, exhausted, spent, happier than i ever thought i deserved to be.
He presses his lips to my temple.
"You're not ugly," he murmurs. "You're mine."
And that's all i need to hear.