There is a distinct difference between the ability to create life and the innate need to protect it, to cherish it. Appreciating that life is the one being you love most in the universe becomes duty, and as a direct result, one must neglect all else to preserve it.

The mother that throws herself in front of an oncoming car, the mother that eats a can of generic peaches when the last bit of food isn’t enough to share, the mother that wears a ratty dress to work so that she can keep much-needed shoes on those tiny, precious feet…that is the distinction of a mother’s love: self-sacrifice.

The moment I heard the cries of the tiny, gooey baby in Jared’s arms, nothing else mattered. Not even me.

“Is he okay?” I asked.

“Uh...yeah. She’s okay.”

“She?” I said, stunned. I had prepared myself for almost everything that could happen when I delivered. A girl was not one of them.

“It’s a girl?” Claire squealed.

“It’s a girl?” Bex groaned.

Jared wrapped her in a clean blanket, and carefully lifted the tiny bundle to look into her eyes. He had no expression except for the smallest hint of a smile. His eyes focused on me, and then put her in my arms as if he were passing on the most fragile, priceless, precious treasure in existence.

I nestled her in the crook of my arm, and until that moment the times I thought I had sacrificed seemed trivial. Everything and everyone in my life was less important, less urgent. My life was simply an extension of the tiny, soft, innocent wonderment before me. I knew how millions of other women before me could behave so erratic, be so forgiving, and so courageous. My heart was no longer on the inside of my body. It was in my arms.

“Jared?” Bex said. With one hand he held the door closed, with other, he gently slid Kim’s lifeless body away from the door and against the wall.

A loud bang vibrated the wall, and Bex flew back, skidding across the floor. The door blew open, and creatures filed into the room, immediately attacking. A foul odor filled the room, and I held my baby close to me. Jared stayed close, violently fending off any demons that dared get close enough to his family.

Every window on the opposite wall from the door exploded. Jared covered us with his body to shield us from flying glass. When the dust cleared, Samuel stepped into the room, standing next to a familiar face in full armor.

“Michael,” Jared breathed, stunned. It was Isaac’s father; his entire army of warrior angels behind him.

The demons snarled and shrieked.

“You shall not touch this child,” Michael said, drawing a long sword.

“Come!” Samuel challenged, raising his arms. “We welcome Hell’s most terrible wrath!”