Page 48 of Pucking Christmas Triplets Surprise

Marissa flinches, dropping her phone to her side and nodding quickly, her face apologetic. "Sorry, but your babies need this. You’re going to thank me later.” She winks, as I growl but she isn’t phased and stays by my side, hovering like a protective shadow.

I don’t know how much longer I can keep going. The pain is unbearable. It’s like a constant crushing pressure, tightening around my chest, making it hard to think, hard to breathe.

“I need to push,” I gasp, my body starting to tremble with the pressure.

“Okay, baby, then push.” My mother smiles, gripping my hand tight as she wipes the sweat from my brow.

Dr. Mason’s eyes lock with mine, her expression both serious and reassuring. “You’re doing great, Josie. You’re strong. Just take a deep breath. The first one’s coming now. Big push.”

I nod, breathing hard as I close my eyes, trying to calm my panicked mind. Christopher leans in closer, his voice steady in my ear. “You can do this, Josie. I’m right here. We’re in this together.”

Tears well in my eyes.How did I get so lucky to have him? How did I fall in love with--Another contraction hits. He wipes the tears from my cheek with a tender touch, never once leaving my side.

“Push,” the doctor instructs, and I do, my entire body straining with the force of it. The pain feels like it’s going to tear me apart, but I push again, harder this time. A gasp fills the room as a baby’s cry echoes through the walls.

Abby lets out a shriek of joy and relief, her hands pressed to her face. “Is that… is that one of them?”

I can’t even process what’s happening. It’s too much, too fast, and my mind feels like it’s spinning. But then, a doctor places a tiny bundle in my arms, and for one fleeting moment, the world slows. The small, wriggling form in my embrace is the answer to everything I’ve ever wanted.

“It’s a boy,” Dr. Mason confirms, smiling softly.

Christopher leans over, his eyes filled with wonder as they work to pump air into his little lungs. “That’s our little Asher.”

I look down at the tiny baby, his face scrunched up in protest against the world he’s been thrust into. His little hand wraps around my finger, and my heart shatters with an overwhelming rush of love and awe.

“I did it,” I whisper through the tears, my voice trembling. “I did it.”

But the moment doesn’t last. A second wave of pain crashes over me, and I gasp as I feel the next one coming.

“Stay with me, Josie,” Christopher says, his grip tightening around my hand. “You’re doing so well. Just two more, okay?”

Two more, I tell myself. Just two more.

The doctors move swiftly, and a nurse gently takes Asher from my arms. “We need to bring him to theNICU,” she says, her voice kind but urgent. “Because he’s premature, we need to make sure he’s stable.”

I nod, as the next wave of pain rushes through me, and it doesn’t take long for the second baby to make his appearance, and again, a piercing cry fills the room. I have no idea how much time has passed since the first one was born, but this time, I’m ready. I breathe through the pain and push with everything I have left. Another tiny baby, another boy, is held up for me to see, and then quickly rushed to the NICU.

“Leo,” I whisper, my head falling back against the pillow. I look to the side to see him with his small, perfect face and feel his little hand curl around mine. He’s perfect, just like his brother.

Tears blur my vision as I try to take it all in, marveling at how much my heart has already expanded to make room for them.

But I know there’s still one more. Christopher and my mother grip my hands as they hold me up and cautiously push me forward. “Come on baby one more push. I got you.”

My body, exhausted beyond belief, still manages to push with all the strength I have left. The final push is harder than the others, but it’s also the sweetest. A cry pierces the air, louder, more insistent, and relief washes over me.

I collapse back against the bed, trembling from exhaustion, as the doctor holds up a baby girl.

“And there goes Ivy,” Christopher says softly, kissing my brow. Tears spill freely down my face. My daughter, my sweet girl, my third baby. “Good job, baby. Good job.”

I gaze up at her, her little face scrunched up from the effort of being born so early,but she’s here—perfect and strong.

“You did so good baby,” my mother whispers, kissing my sweat-drenched skin. “I am so proud of you.”

Abby stands in the doorway, her smile wide through her own tears. “They’re so beautiful, Josie," she says, her voice shaking with emotion.

I manage a tired but joyful smile. “They’re everything,” I whisper.

I watch as Ivy is carried away, my chest tightening with fear and longing. The same has happened with Asher and Leo; all three of my babies are now fighting in the NICU, so small, so vulnerable. The thought is almost too much to bear.

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