When her breathing finally began to steady, I turned to the nurse.
“Can we… can we hold our baby now?”
The nurse smiled and stepped forward, placing the baby gently into my arms. She was light, feather-soft, barely real, and I stared at her face, memorizing every crease, every flutter of her lashes, and every sound she made.
Her warmth seeped into my chest, anchoring me to something I hadn’t fully understood until now.
I turned to June.
“Here,” I said quietly. “Meet our daughter.”
June hesitated. Then, slowly, she reached for her. Her arms were still shaking, but she didn’t pull away. When the baby was finally in her arms, June stared down at her like she was looking at something sacred.
“Hi, sweetheart,” she whispered. “I’m your mom.”
Her voice broke, and a few tears fell, but she smiled through them. That was the moment everything changed.
We named her Victoria — Tori, for short.
