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Epilogue
Natalie once believed she’d never become a mother.
After ten miscarriages, her body bore scars–too many, too deep.
Doctors had warned her the chances were slim–nearly impossible.
But fate, in its quiet mercy, had one final gift in store.
In the fourth year of her marriage to Ethan, she became pregnant.
When Ethan took her pulse and confirmed the signs, the man who had always been composed and
calm–actually teared up. He pulled her into a fierce embrace, voice shaking.
“Natalie… we’re having a baby.”
Natalie froze, one hand instinctively covering her lower abdomen, tears falling silently down her
cheeks.
She should’ve felt joy… but instead, a wave of fear gripped her chest.
She was terrified that this baby, like all the others, would leave her.
During the pregnancy, Natalie was haunted by nightmares.
Over and over, she dreamed of lying in a pool of blood, helplessly watching life slip from her body.
She would jolt awake drenched in sweat, fists clenched in the sheets–until Ethan pulled her close, whispering softly, “It’s okay. I’m here.”
He reassured her every night:
“This baby is strong. You’re going to be fine.”
Still, Natalie remained anxious.
One night, after another dream, she got up and found the light on in the study.
She opened the door–and froze.
She found Ethan hunched over his desk, buried in stacks of medical tomes and frantic notes.
His eyes were bloodshot.
He was researching prenatal care, looking for every possible way to protect her.
Hearing her enter, he turned around in surprise. “You’re awake? Are you okay?”
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Natalie shook her head, but the tears wouldn’t stop.
Ethan rushed over and held her. “What’s wrong?”
She choked out, “I’m scared… I’m afraid I’ll lose this baby too…”
He gently wiped her tears and looked into her eyes.
“Natalie, you’re not the same as before.”
“This time, you have the best care. You have someone who loves you. This baby will make it.”
He kissed her forehead.
“Trust me. Trust yourself.”
Maybe it was Ethan’s medical brilliance as a doctor, or maybe it was the peace Natalie finally
settling over Natalie’s soul-
but this baby was different.
He was calm. Gentle. She barely had morning sickness, and the baby’s movements were soft, as if
he didn’t want to trouble her.
Ethan checked her pulse every day, cooked nourishing meals, walked with her, and even learned to massage her swollen legs and feet.
Gradually, Natalie’s fear melted away, replaced by cautious hope.
On the day she went into labor, Ethan delivered the baby himself.
He held her hand firmly, his voice steady.
“Don’t be afraid. I’m right here.”
Natalie gritted her teeth through the pain, drenched in sweat, clinging to his hand.
Finally, the room filled with the piercing cry of a newborn.
“It’s a boy,” Ethan said as he cut the umbilical cord and placed the baby gently in her arms. His eyes
were red–rimmed.
“Natalie, look. He’s perfect.”
Natalie trembled as she held her son, tears pouring down her face.
The little one was wrinkled and pink, healthy and warm. His tiny hand gripped her finger tightly-
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as if saying:
Mommy, I’m here. And this time, I’m not going anywhere.
During her postpartum recovery, the Sinclairs came to visit with gifts.
