Page 59 of Justice

My mom ends up being the one to drive us with Christopher in the back seat with me.

The drive to the hospital feels like an eternity, each bump in the road sending shock waves of pain through my body. I grip Christopher's hand tightly, trying to focus on his soothing words of encouragement as my mom navigates the busy streets.

As we pull up to the emergency entrance, a team of nurses and doctors are already waiting for us, alerted by my mother'sfrantic phone call during the ride over. They quickly whisk me inside, settling me into a wheelchair and rushing me toward the maternity ward.

The next few hours pass in a blur of pain and confusion. The contractions are coming faster now, each one more intense than the last.

Meadow shows up and I feel relieved that she is here. She is totally relaxed, and it makes me feel better.

Amelia and my mom are in the room with us, sitting in a chair in the other side of the room.

The whole entire waiting room is filled with bikers and their ole ladies. My dad is coming in and out of the room, checking for updates and making sure I’m okay. I told him he could stay if he wanted, and I saw the relief he felt knowing he didn’t have to leave me.

Christopher hasn’t left my side, holding my hand and wiping the sweat from my brow as I labor. "You're doing great, Elle," he whispers, his voice strained with emotion. "Just a little longer, and we'll finally meet our baby girl."

I nod weakly, too exhausted to speak. The pain is all-consuming, radiating through every fiber of my being. I close my eyes, trying to focus on Christopher's voice, on the thought of holding our daughter in my arms.

Meadow checks my progress, her brow furrowed in concentration. "All right, Elle, you're fully dilated," she says, looking up at me with a reassuring smile. "

“I really need to push.” My body is screaming at me.

Tears slide down my cheeks. The pain is horrible, and I’m scared because this is actually happening.

Fear and anticipation course through me as I grip Christopher's hand tighter. My father steps closer to the bed, his presence a comforting anchor in the chaos.

With each contraction, I bear down, channeling all my strength into bringing my baby into the world. Christopher and my father offer words of encouragement, their voices blending together. My mom and Amelia are right next to them, holding my legs.

“I’m so proud of you, angel, you’re doing so good,” Christopher praises me, his lips on my forehead.

Meadow is sitting between my legs, grinning. “I can see her head. One more push is all we need,” she encourages me.

I gather all of my strength, Christopher helping me lean forward. Time seems to stand still, the world narrowing down to this single moment. And then, with one final push, I feel a sudden release, followed by the most beautiful sound I have ever heard—the cry of my newborn daughter.

Her little arms are flailing around in the air and her legs are the first things I see.

Tears stream down my face as Meadow places the squirming bundle on my chest. I look down at my baby girl, her tiny features scrunched up as she wails. Christopher leans in close, his own eyes glistening with tears as he gazes upon our daughter for the first time.

"She's perfect," he whispers, pressing a gentle kiss to my forehead. "You did amazing, Elle."

It’s insane that she is my baby, her little fingers and toes are so tiny. I place her on my bare chest, pulling the blanket over her so she doesn’t get cold.

My dad is crying, his eyes are so full of tears I can barely see his pupils, and Christopher looks like he is utterly in love with her.

My father steps closer as he looks down at his granddaughter. "She's beautiful, Elle," he says, his voice thick with emotion. "Just like her mother."

I cradle my newborn daughter against my chest, unable to tear my eyes away from her. She is the most perfect thing I have ever seen, with her tiny button nose and rosebud lips. Her cries have now softened to gentle whimpers as she nestles into me, her little hands grasping at the air.

Christopher gently strokes her head, marveling at the soft wisps of dark hair. "I can't believe she's finally here," he murmurs, his voice filled with awe.

"Our little miracle."

“You did it, angel, you were so strong.” Christopher leans down to kiss me sweetly on the lips then on our angel’s forehead. He gently strokes our daughter's cheek, his touch featherlight. "Welcome to the world, little one," he whispers. "We've been waiting for you."

I never knew what love at first sight was until the second she was laid on my chest; it’s a love that’s pure and nothing can replace it.

Meadow and the nurses bustle around us, checking vitals and cleaning up, but I barely notice their presence. My entire world is the precious bundle in my arms.

“What did you name her?” Mom asks me.

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