Wild One | Bbangsaz

Chapter 24

Minji's

Seven Months Later

"Don't push yet." I take Hanni's hand and give it a squeeze. "You can do this, baby. Just a little bit longer."

"Are you fucking kidding me?" she snaps back, her voice sharp.

Hanni rarely swears. I hate that she's in pain, but I force a pleasant smile onto my face, doing my best to keep calm. If I stay calm, maybe she'll stay calm.

"You've got this, babe. I've never been more sure of anything in my entire life."

"I don't know, Minji." She winces again.

"Just a bit longer. I love you so much."

I'm trying to put on a brave front, but the truth is, I'm about to fucking strangle the anesthesiologist. He did Hanni's epidural an hour ago, but she's still in pain. The labor and delivery nurse is trying to be positive. She adjusts the stirrups where Hanni's feet currently rest and looks at the door again.

The door flies open and in strolls the ob-gyn who's on call—finally. He looks winded. Like he ran here.

"Sorry, folks. I hear we're ready to have a baby."

Hanni groans, and the nurse chuckles in an attempt to soothe the situation. I won't be at ease until Hanni feels better. I can't handle seeing her in pain.

"Can you do something about her pain level? I thought the epidural ..."

The doctor waves me off. "Nothing I can do now. Everyone takes to pain meds differently. But the good news is, we're about to get the show on the road."

Once he washes his hands, the young doctor sidles up to my wife's vagina, and I have a moment where I want to punch the motherfucker square in the jaw.

"Beautiful. Fully dilated. Nicely effaced. Let's get this baby out, shall we?" He grins, and Hanni offers him a weak nod.

I lean down so my face is near hers. Sweat dots her upper lip, and I dab at it with a cool washcloth. "This is just you and me, babe. We can do this. Are you ready to meet Chloe?"

The name we picked for our little girl almost brings tears to my eyes; it's either that or the way Hanni's determined gaze locks with mine as she gives me a firm nod. She looks resolute, strong, like she can do anything she sets her mind to. And I'm certain she can.

"Let's get this damn thing out of me!" she says, groaning.

I press a kiss to her temple and hike up one of Hanni's knees while the nurse does the same with her other leg.

Now, can we just press pause on this lovely, barbaric adventure?

Because it should gross me out, right? I should be repulsed and utterly distraught by the fact that my wife is about to squeeze something the size of a watermelon out of her lovely, tight kiwi. That should be a moment I want no part of. The thing is, I'm so overcome with emotion—love, elation, pride—that tears are freely streaming down my cheeks as I watch her grunt and push and shout out obscenities.

And then the doctor is saying something about crowning, and my gaze lowers from Hanni's face to her nether-regions and, yeah, it's like a fucking bloodbath down there, like there was less blood at the Red Wedding in Game of Thrones, and I probably shouldn't have looked but I'm full-on crying now at the sight of my baby—our baby—emerging into this world into the hands of the doctor.

Luckily, Chloe's wails drown out my own. I lean down, burying my face in Hanni's neck. We kiss and cry and hug as they whisk the chubby pink baby away to wipe her down and weigh her.

"We did it." Hanni beams up at me. "We actually did it."

"You did, sweetheart."

And then when they place the tiny, soft little creature who has already stolen my heart onto my wife's chest, I'm hit with a fresh wave of emotion. How did I ever think that I didn't want this in my future? This is the best moment of my life—by far—and I know how incredibly lucky I am.