He leaned over the bed rail to kiss her. “You’re doing an amazing job. The only thing that matters is a healthy mom and baby at the end.”

“I feel bad that the baby is going to have to share his or her birthday with game night,” she said, making him laugh.

“Hopefully, we’ll get to midnight, and he or she will be born on the twenty-eighth.”

“I think I can hold off another hour.”

Taking a seat next to her bed, he cradled her hand between both of his. “I love you so much, Hannah. I hope you know how much I appreciate everything you’ve done to bring our baby into the world.”

“You’ve taken such good care of both of us.”

“Least I could do. I can’t wait to see him.”

“Or her.”

“Either is fine with me.”

Chapter 11

We never know the love of a parent till

we become parents ourselves.

—Henry Ward Beecher

The next half hour passed in a blur of comfort even as the monitor recorded increasingly strong contractions. Thank God for drugs, Hannah thought. Right after two in the morning, the doctor returned to check her again and declared her ready to push. Once again, Hannah felt the twinge of panic. What if she couldn’t do it? What if she wasn’t strong enough or—

“Hannah.”

While the nurses scurried around the room, making it ready for delivery, she looked up at her husband, who watched over her with the fierce love she’d come to expect from him.

“Focus. You got this. You’re the strongest person I know. There’s nothing you can’t do if you set your mind to it.”

He said exactly what she needed to hear, but that was no surprise. He knew her better than anyone, even Hunter.

Oh God. Hunter! “I can’t do this without Hunter. He should be here.” She began to cry again at the thought of her twin hundreds of miles from her while she brought her first child into the world.

“Think about what a great surprise he’ll come home to,” Nolan said, stroking her hair. “You want your mom?”

“Just you,” she said, clinging to his hand.

“We got this, Hannah. You and me.”

The nurse directed him to get on the bed behind her to support her while she pushed. Her legs were raised on contraptions attached to the bed and spread so far apart as to be comical under any other circumstances. While she was spread-eagle, people came in and out of the room, focused on the individual roles that were routine to them.

“It’s funny,” she said to Nolan.

“What is?”

“I’ve got my hoo-ha out and proud for the whole world to see, and they walk around like it’s no big deal.”

“It isn’t to them.”

“It sure is to us.”

“Your hoo-ha is a huge big deal to me.”