Page 90 of Mafia Pregnancy

“I’m not sure they’re contractions yet.” I try to stand and feel a sudden gush of warm fluid that soaks through my clothes and drips onto the office carpet. “Oh. Never mind. My water just broke.”

The words transform the peaceful afternoon into pure chaos. Radmir is beside me instantly, one arm supporting my weight while he pulls out his phone with the other. Carmen disappears to gather the hospital bag we’ve had packed for weeks, and Andrei moves toward the door with promises to handle anything that needs attention while we’re gone.

“Dr. Martinez? It’s Radmir Vetrov. Danielle’s water just broke, and she’s having contractions.” He pauses, listening to instructions while I lean against him and breathe throughanother wave of pain. “Understood. We’ll be there in twenty minutes.”

The drive to Scripps Memorial takes exactly eighteen minutes, with Radmir navigating traffic while I focus on the breathing techniques we learned in childbirth class. The contractions are coming every seven minutes now, being strong enough to require concentration but not so close together that I panic about delivering in the car.

“You’re doing great.” His voice is calm and steady, anchoring me through each wave of discomfort. “Just breathe through them like we practiced.”

“Easy for you to say.” I grip his hand during the next contraction, squeezing hard enough that he winces. “You’re not the one whose body is trying to turn itself inside out.”

“True, but I’m the one who gets to watch you do the most incredible thing a human being can do.” He brings my hand to his lips and kisses my knuckles. “I’m so proud of you.”

The words make my eyes fill with tears that have nothing to do with pain. “Save the pride for when I actually deliver her. Right now, I’m just trying not to have a panic attack. I don’t know why I’m so alarmed. I’ve been through this before.”

I know the origin though I don’t verbalize it, worried in in some superstitious way that speaking it aloud will make it happen. Leo was born six weeks early and spent two weeks in the NICU. The thought of repeating that experience makes my chest constrict each time I think about it. She’s full-term but could still need a NICU stay if something goes wrong.

“You won’t panic. You’re the strongest person I’ve ever met.” He pulls into the hospital parking garage and kills the engine. “Ready to meet our daughter?”

The next eight hours pass in a blur of medical procedures, breathing exercises, and pain. Radmir never leaves my side, coaching me through contractions and advocating with the medical staff when I need additional support.

“I can’t do this.” The words escape during a particularly brutal contraction that makes me feel like my spine might snap. “I’m not strong enough.”

“Yes, you are.” He wipes sweat from my forehead with a cool cloth. “You did it with Leo, and you’ll do it for her. Besides, she’s almost here.”

Dr. Martinez appears between my legs with encouragement and instructions. “I can see her head, Danielle. Two more pushes, and you’ll be holding your baby.”

The urge to push overwhelms every other sensation, and I bear down. Radmir counts through the effort, his voice providing rhythm and structure when everything else feels chaotic.

“One more.” Dr. Martinez’s voice is excited now. “Give me everything you have.”

I push with desperation and determination and love for the little girl who’s been growing inside me for forty weeks. The sensation of her body sliding free is one of overwhelming relief and completion and the most incredible feeling I’ve ever experienced for the second time.

“She’s here.” Dr. Martinez holds up a slippery, squirming bundle of arms and legs and indignant cries. “You have a beautiful, healthy daughter.”

They place her on my chest immediately, skin to skin, and I get my first look at the face I’ve been imagining for months. She’s perfect, with dark hair that’s already curling slightly and eyes that are tightly closed against the bright lights of the delivery room. She resembles Leo at this age, but bigger and with more plumpness since she’s full term. “Oh, my god.” The words come out as almost a whisper. “Look at her.”

Radmir leans over both of us, his expression transformed by wonder and love and awe. “She’s so small.”

“Seven pounds, two ounces.” The nurse provides statistics while checking our daughter’s vital signs. “Perfect size for a full-term baby.”

“Leo was four pounds, five ounces,” I say, feeling the phantom sensation of holding his tiny body in my arms for the first time for a second. That fades when our baby girl wriggles and squirms, opening her mouth wide to cry out her protest at this invasion.

Our daughter opens her eyes and looks directly at me with the unfocused but intense gaze newborns have. Her crying settles to soft whimpers as she adjusts to life outside the womb. “Hi, baby girl.” I trace her tiny cheek with one finger. “I’m your mama.”

“And I’m your daddy.” Radmir’s voice is rough with emotion as he touches her hand, which immediately closes around his finger with surprising strength. “We’ve been waiting so long to meet you.”

The next hour passes in a haze of medical procedures and newborn assessments, but all I can focus on is the warm weight of our daughter against my chest and the expression of complete devastation and love on Radmir’s face every time he looks at her.

We’re moved to the post-birthing suite after the procedures are followed. An hour after that, a soft knock on the door announces the arrival of our extended family. Carmen enters first, followed by Andrei, Molly, and finally Leo, who’s been bouncing with excitement since we left for the hospital eight hours ago.

“Can I see her?” Leo approaches the bed with careful steps, his eyes wide with curiosity and wonder. “Is she really my sister?”

“She’s really your sister.” I adjust my position so he can climb onto the bed beside me. “Do you want to meet her?”

He nods solemnly and peers down at the bundle in my arms with the focus he usually reserves for dinosaur documentaries. “She’s so little.”

“Mama said you were even smaller when you were born.” Radmir settles on the other side of the bed, creating a circle of family around our newest member. “What do you think of her?”

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