Chapter Thirty - Our Kid Looked Just Like Her

CHAPTER THIRTY

Our Kid Looked Just Like Her

THE ROOM WAS loud.
Beeping. Breathing.
Nurses moving like a dance they’d done a thousand times.

But all I heard was her.

Breathing through the pain, hand squeezing mine like she was trying to pass some of the storm into me.

And then, it happened.

A cry.
A scream, really.

And then silence.

And then, me.

I saw the baby before she did.

Held my breath.
Waited for the panic.
Waited for the what if I mess this up to hit.

It didn’t.

Because when I saw that little face, wrinkled, wild, and blinking at the world like it had questions, I laughed.
Tears and awe all tangled up.

Because that kid… looked just like her.

The same eyes.
That little tilt in the nose.
The pout she gets when she’s pretending not to be mad.

Even the way they looked at me.

It was her, in miniature.

Like the universe wanted to make sure I never forgot what love looks like.

I brought the baby over.
Placed them on her chest.

She was still shaking.
Tears already flowing.
Hair stuck to her forehead.
Absolutely wrecked.

And still, the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.

She looked down.
Looked up.

And whispered, “Oh my God. It’s me.”

And I whispered, “Yeah. But louder.”

We sat there, the three of us.
One breath.
One moment.
One universe realigned.

Our kid looked just like her.
But somehow, it felt like all of us were born that day.