"It's done, Teresa. You'll be fine, I promise".
She didn't answer, feeling too drained to utter a single word. She didn't let go of his hand though.
Jane's firm yet gentle grasp was the single thing that had pulled her through those last painful hours – along with his soothingly warm voice, of course.
She regretted not being able to thank him properly at the moment. Had she not felt so weak and lightheaded she would probably be in his arms right now.
How silly of her. She had never understood how much she actually needed him.
Well, now she knew it. And all she wanted was to hold him tightly and never let him go.
"Patrick…", she began in a whisper – a moment before a nurse entered the room carrying something that just resembled a bundle of clothes.
She hadn't even the time to panic. Her baby boy was placed in her arms, and the nurse disappeared out of the door.
Gathering all her strength, she forced herself to look at him. What she saw simply took her breath away.
The baby's features were a delightful blend of both of his parents'. He had blond curls just like his father – and his eyes were as green as his mother's.
He was so tiny and so perfect… A kind of a miracle, in a way.
Teresa felt a sudden rush of affection for her son. She had carried him for nine months, and now he was there in her arms.
Her son. She was a mother now.
It took her a few moments to notice her husband smiling fondly at them. Surely he deserved to hold his own son too.
She tucked the little boy in his father's safe arms. Jane rocked him gently, his eyes brimming with tears.
That's when Teresa realized there were tears on her cheeks too.
The walls she had carefully built around her heart were finally crumbling to dust. For the first time in years without count, she just allowed herself to be truly happy.