Luckily, Liss loses her McDonald's cravings about the time we're headed back home. I can see how reluctant she is to leave---that's one thing that's always concerned me, taking her away from everything she knew here to be with me---but I think it's more so now because of the pregnancy than any lasting effects of our marriage. Still, her family and hopefully, some of her friends, will be making the trip to be with her as her time draws near, and I think that'll help her not be so homesick. She's very protective of Angel now, all of her maternal instincts starting to take shape, and I feel she'll do good to get back settled in at the farm with nothing more to do than prepare for the birth.

There's only just a scant two months to go; on the one hand both of us feel ready, eager to meet the little one and begin a brand new life as a threesome; but on the other, I think we're both a bit freaked out and scared. I know I am, anyway. Still, Lissy's had such an easy time of this pregnancy thus far that I'm hopeful this small girl will be easygoing and calm once she's here, too.

The bond between me and the baby is strong. My so-called 'caveman instincts' that Liss teases me about now extend to her; I'm like this fierce tiger or bear out to protect his cub. But I get a sneaking suspicion that our daughter's gonna hold her own; she's already proven to be feisty and strong. It's funny how, even without seeing her, she's seemed to develop a personality already, when either one of us speak directly to her, she always wriggles and kicks to show us she knows we're giving her proper attention. Sometimes, when we DON'T give her proper attention and she thinks she should be getting some. When Lissy lies there all quiet and I'm lying beside her, and I'm aware that Angel is awake, I'll tease the baby like that first time, gently prodding and poking her into giving a reaction, and she always responds with a well-placed, well-timed thumping and bumping underneath my fingers. It's become a sort of game between us. I like to think she's definitely aware of all that's going on out here where she's concerned and that's why she delights in playing with me. Either that or I'm irritating the hell out of her. Haven't quite decided.

Somehow, I seem to constantly irritate the hell out of my wife; as she gets more and more uncomfortable, she has these mood swings that come and go at will. It fucking makes my head spin. I know it's 'cause of the pregnancy, because I read that in one of the books I bought for her, but it makes life increasingly difficult to be around her seeing as how you never know what will set her off.

Lissy and I don't fight too often. Of course, when we have they've been huge, but for the most part I can honestly tell ya that we quite usually get along companionably, peaceful and harmonious. Not lately, though. I can tell it's hard for her to control and I know damn well that she really does feel badly about it but it's like I've suddenly found myself married to a completely different woman. I love her so much, though, and hope that this, too, shall eventually pass. I have to feel badly for her; since we've come home it seems that now she's really starting to expand and it's not got to be the most pleasant thing to go through. I'm not meaning that in a cruel way at all but Angel's growing and crowding in there and I'm sure it's not making life for Liss any easier, either.

One day we're putting together the nursery, my brother and I, when we have a bit of a struggle with the furniture. Now, to this point, we're both quite proud we've done a fine job, painting and putting up paper, but now that we're nearly done, this part of it seems to be fucking cursed. Of course, we're both doing a lot of the fucking cursing, ourselves. Thought we were keeping the noise down but when I look up, there's Liss and she looks completely livid. I brace myself for Hurricane Lissy when she snaps, "What in the hell do you two think you're doing?"

I feel like a sick bastard because even then, all pissed off and tired, she's still so damn beautiful. Is it wrong to think of her that way when she's mussed up, with her great swollen belly and fire blazing in her eyes? Guess it just goes to show you how head over heels in love I am with her. Both of her hands are wrapped 'round the curve of her tummy; she's been having those false contractions lately and I'm hoping it's not the case now, as they wear her out even worse. She says they're normal and nothing to be concerned about, but, when you haven't yet even experienced them for real, how would you know the difference? I know I'm being a bit leery but it's getting close now and I don't want anything to go wrong.

Seeing as how tensions and nerves are still high in here, I snap right back, "We're trying to put the damn fucking crib together, that's what we're doing." See Lissy's eyes widen a bit, then narrow, as she continues to glare at me and Terry. Then I soften my tone and add, "We're trying to make sense of all this mess, sweetheart. Why don't you go back to bed and relax?"

"I would if the two of you WOULD KEEP IT DOWN, DAMN IT." The demon woman within her is beginning to come out fully, and it's not a pretty sight at all. If looks could kill, at this point, we'd be dead on the spot. Absolutely. She presses her palm against her belly and I worry that she's gonna stress out both her and the child within her. You know, though, there's just so much I can take of this...I'm getting sick and tired of being blamed for everything whether it's my fault or not. "What's wrong with you, Liss?" I ask her, and I can see the guilt and shame flash through her eyes. But then, she's still frowning, and I am too, despite it all. This is gonna stop, right here and now.

"She's pregnant, Russ. Lay off her, mate, all right?" My brother breaks in but the two of us, Lissy and I, we're now both glaring daggers at each other and it's like he's not even there.

Now, you know, it's a proven public fact that I have a hard time keeping my mouth shut when I should. You'd think that I'd learn eventually to control this, but I doubt by now this is ever gonna happen. Without taking my gaze from Liss, I tell Terry, "Good god, I know she's preggers, but that's no reason to become this psycho holy terror, now is it?" As soon as I say this, I realise how incredibly fucking stupid that was, how very wrong, but there's no taking that back now. Christ. "I'm a WHAT?" Lissy is incredulously outraged, and though I can't blame her for that, she needs to know that this can't go on any more.

"Lissy, I didn't mean that, all right? It's just...you need to take things easy, calm down. Now look, I'm sorry we're being loud but we're trying to get this ready for the baby, okay? How is Angel, by the way?" I try to ease the tension by reminding her we need to be concerned with our daughter more than anything, but when I attempt to place my hand on her she actually backs off, which hurts me. "Don't touch me."

Further putting my foot in it, I snap, "Oh, Christ, Lissy, don't start this fucking mess all over again." Now she has both hands pressed snug against her and I'm worried I'm going to set her off into premature labour or something like that. "What mess might that be?" she asks in this totally frosty voice. I try, once again, to get both of us calmed down by softening my tone, attempting by the way I'm looking at her to get her to understand. "I can't deal with it, your mood swings and fits like this. I don't know what I've done, but..."

"Russ..." my brother breaks in again. Before I can say anything to him, Lissy turns her ire on him and tells him to stay the hell out of this. He knows how to deal with all of my shit, but I think Liss intimidates him far worse than I ever could so he tries to make himself as invisible as possible short of throwing himself out the nursery window.

"You got me pregnant, that's what you've done!" Yep, can't deny my part in that, all right. Not gonna apologise for that one, however. "And so I think the least you can do now is try to give me a little bit of peace and quiet."

"Lissy..." I have to fight down the irresistible urge to chuckle at her accusations. I claim utter responsibility for her current physical state, am quite proud of it, in fact, and that's one thing I WILL take the blame for. I can now clearly see she's slightly confused, embarrassed, humiliated even, but she's trying to maintain the upper hand and that's the least I can give her at this point. "All I want is some peace! And I want someone to care about me for a change." Tears well up in her huge brown eyes; I want so badly to just hold her and let her get it out, but I'm not certain she wouldn't take a swing at me just now. "I do care about you, love. Why do you think...?"

"No...I don't want to hear it. I don't. I just want to have her and be done with it all. And I want to go back to sleep, and I DON'T want to hear any more racket from you two." She turns and flees back to the relative safety of our bedroom. I can only stand there in shock.

"Go after her, Russ," Terry urges. 

"I don't know what I should say," I tell him. Me, Mr. Shoot-Off-Your-Mouth-and-Worry-About-the-Consequences-Later at a loss for words? With Lissy especially? What is wrong with me?

"Just tell her you love her, mate. That's all you can do." 

"She knows I love her."

"Do you tell her that? As much as you can? She's going through a rough patch of it, you know. It's getting close now, her time. And I'll bet she's terrified. She's gonna need you, more than ever, and you have to let her know that she's got support from you."

"She knows..." but the look in my brother's eyes stops me. I KNOW Liss has to know this, but I think he's right about her fears and doubts. It won't hurt to tell her that again, as much as I can, as he says. So I leave and go off in search of her, to make things right between us again.

When I enter our room, she's lying on her side---it's getting more difficult to do that as her belly grows, but that's the position she usually sleeps in and so she's still tried to stay that way, an extra pillow propped up beside her to take some of the baby's weight---with her back to me. She's so still that I know good and well she's not sleeping. I sit down on the edge of the bed behind her and I can hear a barely suppressed small shuddering sigh. Then without another thought I lie next to her, spooning into her as always, and take her into my arms, covering her and the baby with my own hands. "Good thing I'm the only actor in this family, love. I know you're faking it and you're not asleep." Kissing the side of her face, she relaxes against me and I also know she's not angry with me anymore.

"I'm sorry..." she whispers, and I smile and hug her. "No worries, Liss." When she tries to apologise even more, I stop her. It's not her fault, truly; the more I think about it I think she lashes out to cover up everything else that's whirling through her now. "You're getting so damn big," I comment, my hand stroking over her, over Angel.

Defensive now, Liss says, "Yeah, well, thanks for pointing that out." I laugh and explain, "I'm not making fun or making light of it...I just know it can't be easy, carrying her around with you all the time, what with it getting closer to the birth and all." She lets out a tiny sob then and I know I've hit upon the source of the problem. Very, very gently, I add, "You're getting scared, aren't you?"

"Yes." She swipes at her tears with one fist; I catch it in my own hand and bring it up to my lips, kissing each hollow and rise of her knuckles softly. 

"So am I." I wouldn't admit that to anyone but myself before, not wanting to burden Lissy with all of that. I'm not the one going into labour, the one who has to struggle to give birth and bring this girl into the world. My worries seem so insignificant compared to hers, but now that she's confessed her own fear, I realise that this is something that we both have in common. And maybe, in sharing that, we can find a new strength with each other, instead of fighting it separately. "Do you know how helpless I'm gonna feel, watching you go through that, feeling that pain, and knowing that I can't really do anything to take that away from you?"

She sighs and I think in that moment she's just realised the same things I have about sharing our fears and sticking together.  I carefully turn her over so that I can see her face, see the expression on it. "I felt that way when we lost the other baby, you know."

"I know you did. I wanted so much to help you, but I couldn't do anything." That's my wife for you; always concerned more about me than herself. Tears are still glimmering in her eyes but I feel, so much, the connection between us once more.

"I wish I could do more for you, Lissy. I wish I could take that from you." Watching Liss give birth will be, I'm sure, one of the most wonderful and yet, one of the most helpless things I'm ever gonna go through. "But I can't...the only thing I can do is be here for you. And try to love you through it."

She nods. That's more than enough for her. I feel good that I can do that much for her. Rubbing over the taut mound of her stomach, I remind, "And we're gonna get something so good out of it in the end."

Right on cue, Angel kicks and stirs, making both of us laugh. You can't tell me for sure that she doesn't know what is going on. "She's probably getting so cramped in there," I tell Lissy, actually able to see her shirt ripple with the baby's movement. "Yeah, she's going to be glad to come out of here," she says, finally smiling, her fear subsiding, at least for now. Both of us rub and pat her, reassuring, until she quiets down again. "We'll be glad to have her," I comment. Really, me and Liss, we're very eager to meet her and get to know her as our own. That overshadows anything negative we feel.

Liss agrees and I tell her that Terry and I have decided to let her nap first, then when she wakes, my mum wants to take her out for a bit, and we'll finish off the room for the baby then. I tell her I love her...as promised, and these seems to be the healing words for both of us...and then I hold her, as she falls asleep in my arms. 

After that, things are much more even with us. The baby's room is done, and I'm very proud of it. It's all pink and cream-coloured, with lace and floral patterns, very girly and pretty. Liss is delighted with it, and I hope our daughter will be as well.

We begin taking prenatal classes; at first we weren't going to, figuring there really wasn't much that we hadn't already learned about from reading all those books anyhow, but then we decided to, after we both discovered we shared a lot of the same questions and trepidation about the birthing process. The instructor comes here, to the farm, and it's very informal and comfortable; with just the both of us we're able to cover anything and everything we have issues or curiosity about and the instructor is able to concentrate strictly on us as well. I feel we're beginning to relax some; after all, having a child is a life-altering event and we'll have to make adjustments along the way from here on out, not that Liss and I haven't had to do that as a married couple as it is. Being parents, we understand completely, will be a growth process, we'll be learning things right along with our child, and I know the young miss will probably teach us a thing or two as well. Mostly, it's the birth itself that's the source of our anxiety. The classes help with that, though, as we begin to be focused on all that is coming up and all we'll need to know to get by all right.

One night we're lying there as always, discussing anything and everything, as is our ritual before we go to sleep. Being with Liss like this, here in our bed, somehow always seems to break down any barriers to conversation we might have during the day; we're able to face things head-on and speak freely and from the heart. Anyhow, ever since we broke up before we've both worked hard at communicating more, at trying to keep our marriage open and honest, and I'm proud to say that it's worked. We hope to pass that openness, that closeness and ability to be able to speak of anything to this child and any children we might have in future.

"Are you okay with helping to deliver the baby, sweetheart?" Liss asks. Some time ago, her doctor suggested that if all goes well with Lissy's labour, I can be the one to actually bring the baby into the world; that is to say, once her head and shoulders are out, I can help her out the rest of the way and be the one to hand her to my wife. It's not that I'm squeamish or anything like that, but it's one thing entirely to deliver a foal or a calf; quite another when it's your own child and your own wife's body. Liss has never had any doubts about my ability to be able to do this; she has that serenity concerning it that always astonishes me to witness within her.

"I don't know," I tell her. I've struggled off and on with the prospect of this for some time, ever since it was first presented as an option. "I should really be there for you, love."

"But you WILL be there for me. You will...and then, when the time comes, you'll be there for her, too. Think of it, Russ, what an honour that will be for you. How many men can say that they delivered their own child and helped them enter the world? Imagine what a story you can tell her when she's older." She reaches up and cradles my face in between her hands. "You don't have to if you don't want to. I'll understand. It's entirely up to you. But I think it's a wonderful, incredible opportunity and I would be pleased and proud to have you be the one."

"You would?" Sometimes, a bloke just needs reassurance, ya know. 

"Russell..." she gets that of-course-don't-be-ridiculous look. "I think it would be an awesome, moving experience if you were to help me deliver our child." Hell, no pressure, right? But I reckon, even if I DID refuse, Liss might be a tiny bit disappointed but she's being honest when she says she'll definitely understand. This is one huge responsibility. Then, I think to myself, I AM this baby's father, and giving her life itself, the chance for her to be a part of MY life, with Lissy, having the chance to guide her, watch her grow, and teach her things, isn't that a huge responsibility, too? I vowed once I found out Liss was pregnant, that I would be there for her, every step of the way. And that I would be there for our child, too. When you think about it, she's the ultimate expression of the love Lissy and I share for each other; wouldn't my being the first person to hold her, to comfort her and give her to her mum be the ultimate expression of my love for her? I know the answer to that one in my heart. And looking at Liss, seeing her expression of simply unconditional love and trust that she holds for me, I see that she does as well.

So I tell her, "Yes. I want to do it," and she brightens, happy and full of pride. "I'm glad. I'm so glad," she whispers, as we hold each other close. "Thank you."

This is going to be the biggest thing yet that Lissy and I have done together as partners, no doubt. But I feel good about this and it gives me yet another reason to be excited over the baby's impending arrival.

After that, there's even more stuff to learn and be prepared for, on my part especially, because I want to be able to do my part capably and not let Liss down. Don't want to muck about with this in any way. It's too important and too special a moment for me to fuck this up.

Liss has gone back to being very relaxed and at peace; I think when I made up my mind to help with delivering Angel it took a lot of worry from her. Her trust in me is implicit; it humbles me that she puts that much faith in me even as it fills me with such love for her, too. And she's right; I WILL be there for her in any way she might need me: emotionally, physically. I can't take some of the pain from her but I can ease it somewhat, by doing this for both her and our daughter.

We're entering the final stretch of this now; we can count the time until the birth almost by days. I don't want to make Lissy crazy by hovering around her all the time; but I'm constantly worried that it'll start and I won't be there when it does. Not that the baby's gonna come right off when labour DOES begin; I know that this is a pretty irrational concern I've got, but it's in my mind all the same.

One night it's very late; I just lie beside Liss watching her sleep. This is something I've always loved doing; but even more so now with the baby nearly here. She just looks so lovely, still delicate-looking to me, all this beautiful soft curviness about her. I told her that once and she looked at me as if I'd gone stark raving mad. She's gotten so she's now more comfortable sleeping on her back, usually with my hand and hers resting over Angel, me pressed against her side as close as we can be.

This time, when I rest my hand on her, Angel kicks, hard---there's not much room anymore for her to move about inside her mummy and I feel as badly for her as I do for my wife. Liss lets out this quiet sleepy moan and then rubs the spot, moving over just a bit to rub a new one as the baby kicks her again. Then she opens her eyes and looks over at me. "You really ought to get some sleep, Russ."

"I'm afraid something will happen if I do." I voice my worries out loud. 

She reaches for me, draws me to her, and kisses me, at first gentle and light, then deep and heartfelt. We haven't been able to make love for several weeks now, the pregnancy finally getting too advanced to make that truly comfortable for her...but we've indulged ourselves in plenty of touching and kissing, and let me tell ya, that can be almost as satisfying and intimate as sex. Note I said almost. Seriously, though, we're as emotionally intimate as two people can be right now. "Trust me, honey, I'm not going to give birth to her right here in bed without you knowing about it," she teases, and I just fix her with one of my solemn intense gazes. "That's not funny, Lissy," I tell her seriously.

"I'm sorry." She's been so indulgent of my own moods where this baby's been concerned. She understands what this means to me---hell, to both of us---and she puts up with my fretting and fierce protectiveness with an infinite lot of patience. Not that I'm doubting her own strength and determination...she's by far one of the toughest people I know, would have to be to put up with me...but after all we've endured together I just want this to go well, want so much for her and this child.

"You should get some sleep, too," I tell her, but beneath our hands Angel's happily thumping away. "She's restless tonight," I comment, wondering if all this activity is her trying to tell us something. But, I reckon, Lissy'd know if something WAS going on. It's her body, after all, and as I said earlier, being pregnant has somehow blessed her with this uncanny sixth sense about things that I know not to question.

"I love her so much," is my wife's rueful response, as we both rub circles round and round the baby, trying to soothe her into settling down, "but I really wish she'd choose a better time to be awake, herself."

"I know it's getting harder and harder for you, baby. I'm sorry for that. Not much longer now." Sliding down to plant a kiss on her tummy, I speak directly to the little one. "Not much longer now, you hear me? So calm down and stop pestering your Mummy." There's another direct thunk, as if she's deliberately defying me, and then she must have found a comfy spot, for she's mellow within Lissy once more. Liss sighs, gives her a fond, grateful pat, and then shifts a bit, trying to get comfortable herself.

"Russell? What do you think she'll be like?" Her question catches me off-guard a bit; not that I haven't thought about this plenty myself. 

"I hope she has the best parts of both you and me, sweetheart." Snuggling her close, I add, "But I hope for her sake she looks like you." 

Liss laughs and then says, "All I want is for her to be happy. And to grow up secure, knowing how much we love her." I can hear the underlying sincerity in her tone. She grew up the product of divorce; not knowing her father for most of her formative years, and while I know she's long ago come to terms with that, I also know how much it still hurts her, deep down. Now I've been lucky that my own mum and dad have been together all this time; but with the demands of my job and all that, I've done a lot of long, hard thinking and discussing with my wife about how this will affect our children. Don't want them growing up roaming from place to place without having a true spot to lay down roots, you know. But we'll work that out as it comes along and I have confidence we'll do right by them. "No worries there, love," I tell her. "I can assure you I plan to give her all the love she could ever know. And I know you will, too."

She smiles at this, as we link fingers and I tuck her in even more secure to me. "I just want her to get here soon," she laments, as we try to work out the best position for the two of us to cuddle in.

She'll be here sooner than we think. And then we're gonna embark on the most fascinating journey of our lives. 

Lissy's family and a couple of her really close friends arrive to be there for her and support her when she gives birth, and we're able to fit all of them here and nearby. There's always lively conversation, laughter and above all else, a lot of love going 'round, and I'm grateful they could all share in this with us. Surrounded with all this warmth and good will, Liss is calmer, although I still observe in her moments of anxiety and concern, waiting for it to happen. At this point, most of that is concentrated on the anticipatory factor, really, rather than doubt or fear. Me, too, as I get more and more eager to meet this tiny baby girl for the first time and begin to establish my relationship with her.

One afternoon, just scant days before the due date, there's a bunch of us eating. Lissy's mum made some wonderful chicken dish and we're all appreciatively digging in; all except her, that is. I got concerned because she said she wasn't that hungry; so her mum fixed her some soup and toast. Now she pushes that away, half-uneaten, and stands, rubbing her lower back and then her round belly, stretching a bit. "You okay, love?" I'm the first one to ask, as she comes to me and I rub her, too.

"I'm fine." She smiles, though a bit tiredly---she's not been sleeping well the last few nights at all. Every night, I give her massages, backrubs, rub her tired, swollen feet---but she still can't get too comfy to settle in anymore. Wish Angel would decide to make her grand entrance just to take the stress off her mummy. She leans down to kiss me. "I think I'll just go lie down for a while." When she sees the look in my eyes, she kisses me again. "Russ, I'm fine. I promise." And then she goes off, walking with that swaying gait of hers since she's so big out in front.

I catch both my own mum and Lissy's exchanging knowing looks. "What?" I demand, needing to know what they do and I don't. 

"Her time's very close now," Mum explains. 

"I remember that feeling," her mum reminisces. "Yep, it's getting real close." 

I must look alarmed because both of them quickly reassure, "Probably not today. But soon...very soon." 

Dear God. I don't know how much more of this I can fucking take. I wonder if Lissy feels it, too; wonder if even the baby knows. 

The due date arrives, a perfect, sunny, beautiful day. Ideal for giving birth, I silently communicate to the child still peacefully residing snug in Lissy's tummy. I wish this would start, at an agreeable time for all concerned, we'd have a nice, almost pleasant labour---just enough to do the job and get Angel here safely without wearing on Liss too much---and then, bingo, home the next day and ready to begin our experience as new parents with our new little girl. 'Course, this is real life, so I know it won't happen that way. But it's lovely to think about.

I'm still trying not to hover over my wife; let her go on about her business and not jump every time she moves or touches her belly. But it's difficult for me. I can see that Liss is hoping something will happen, too. Still, she gives no sign that anything's begun, and I know I'd be the first one she'd tell.

We don't speak of it until we're getting ready for bed and we realise with a pang of disappointment it's not going to be today, anyhow. When we're both tucked in next to one another, I just hold her close and try to be as comforting as I can.

Lissy glances over at me, then down at our daughter---it's a miracle I can't see Angel clearly outlined under her skin, she's that full and ready---then back at me again. "She's definitely inherited your stubbornness," she tells me, with just a hint of sarcasm. But she smiles and I smile at her, too, kissing her and resting my hand over the baby. "Christ, Liss," I observe, feeling her, "you're as hard as a rock. Are you absolutely sure nothing's going on yet?"

"I think it's a start...but I don't feel any pain, just the tightness." She sighs. "I promise you, I'm not going to NOT tell you, and I'm not suddenly going to give birth right here, so don't worry, okay?"

I nod. 

"I'm glad you're here," she confesses. "I couldn't do it without you, sweetie." 

"You damn well WOULDN'T be doing it without me, anyhow," I tease, and she laughs. "Yeah, I needed you for the first part of it, didn't I?" Then her expression grows soft and reflective. "I just need you, always. So much." She kisses me. "Thank you for everything you've ever given me."

"Thank you, too, baby." Holding each other, then, we fall asleep, and it's the best sleep we've both had in days, at least---secure in our love for each other, and what we've found together again.

Next day, it's the same thing all over again...I try to go out and work a bit around the farm, just so I'm not bothering Liss, but ready to jump at a moment's notice and be right there by her side should she need me. By the time we eat supper, she mentions that she's still got that tight feeling in her lower abdomen---it comes and goes and she's fairly certain she's in the very early stages of labour, so early that you might not even truly call it that yet---which gets me excited and hopeful but also starts that concern for her and the baby all over again. It's too soon yet to take her to the hospital; with just feeling like this, they'd probably send her straight back here anyhow, but now that the birth of our daughter can be measured in hours rather than days even, everyone's in this heightened state of awareness.

We both go to bed but it's hard to sleep. Liss because she's so damn bloody uncomfortable this late out, and me because I'm worried about her, but finally we both do plainly out of sheer exhaustion. When I wake, she's still out cold, and I slip from bed and let her stay asleep. If the baby's coming soon, she's gonna have to conserve all her energy and all her strength for the delivery and I don't want to take that from her when she needs to build it up most.

I'm talking to my mum, and she's telling me her own experiences giving birth to me and Terry, but back then they pretty much knocked you right out and you woke up to find you were a mum with a brand-new baby, so there isn't much personal experience to draw from. And having a dad there with the woman was almost unheard of. But she's remembering all she can when Liss comes in, moving very slowly and carefully.

"How are you feeling today, love?" I ask her and then she raises her head, looks me dead in the eyes and I see what's going on. "Now?" Both of her hands are curled protectively around Angel and she sinks into the chair I put out for her. "Ten minutes," she says, and even though there's a tiny spot of fear in her expression, there's also extreme elation.

"The baby's coming in ten minutes?" She smiles, tries to laugh and then gasps as another pain comes over her. "No...Oh, wow...the contractions are coming every ten minutes." I cup her face, gaze into her eyes, will her to concentrate on me, focus just as we practiced in our classes, until it fades and she can breathe easy again. "Let's get you to the hospital."

Suddenly everything's abuzz with activity, everyone scurrying about, but all I can focus on is Lissy and getting her taken care of. With any luck...today we'll finally become parents and get to meet this tiny young miss that's become the centre of our world.

Once there, they quickly get Liss settled in bed; the pains are still coming with evenly spaced regularity, but they advise they want them closer together and stronger before they'll give her anything for them, if she can hold on. She's doing very well, when one hits, I let her grip my hand and we just focus on each other to bring her through. I've gotten so I can see on the monitor the baby's heart rate start to climb as one's beginning; a split second before Lissy begins to feel it building, so I can warn her and she can hold onto me.

I wonder what the baby must be feeling, inside of her; if she's confused and scared, or if she realises that all of this means she's about to come out and meet us, if she's as excited for that as we both are.

Watching Lissy in labour is every bit as difficult as I imagined it would be. She truly is handling all of it with amazing courage and strength; when she has a contraction, she doesn't cry out, but I can see the tension and the pain in her eyes and around the tight set of her mouth; she's not even to the worst of it yet, but I'm astonished at her will and how very brave she is. I honestly wish I could, as I told her, take it away from her, but I can't, and it's awful to feel so impotent, to want so much to be able to do so much more but know that you aren't able to.

So far, just like her pregnancy, the labouring process is almost by the book; the pains are increasing steadily, in volume and intensity. Finally, she can't take any more and asks for her epidural. I hold onto her while they get that set up; once that's done and it starts to kick in, she says she's a lot more comfortable and I feel relieved. Anything to make this easier on her. Anything to just get her through this all right and bring Angel safely to us. That's all I ask.

Not too long thereafter, they come in to check her again and we're both surprised when they tell her she's gonna be ready to push and deliver the baby. It's only been barely six hours since we arrived; we were both sure we were going to be here longer than that before the baby decided to be born, so this is welcome news. Liss has been so much better since the epidural that she hasn't much discomfort at all; bravo to the women who go through it all naturally; but can't say I blame anyone for needing a bit of help. Once again, I'm torn between wanting to have Liss hold onto me through it all and wanting to be the one to deliver Angel. She must see this in my expression, for she reaches for me, holds my hand in hers and then lifts it to her face to kiss it. "You're gonna be fine, sweetie," she whispers. "I love you," and I feel her confidence and faith in me lift me up and let me know what I should do. So I get ready, move down near her feet, where I can see what's happening, be able to still touch Lissy, but be out of the doctor's way until it's my time to do my part.

The sight of Liss this way only puts me even further in awe of her. Childbirth isn't by any means a pretty, neat thing, necessarily, but it's incredible and wondrous and beautiful in its own right. She gathers strength, looks into my eyes and then fights, her first big fierce push, and I feel tears spring into my eyes, both of joy for what's happening and empathy for my wife. "Liss...I can see the top of her head," I tell her, and there's a spark, a light of happiness and then of struggle within her face as she takes a deep breath, rests for a moment, then begins again. She closes her eyes with the strain of it, her whole body shuddering with effort, and then she opens them and tries to focus on me, finds me, locks onto me, as I see Angel there, so close now. Her head falls back, as she breathes hard, trying to gear up for yet another push. I stroke her leg, reach to take one of her hands in mine as she starts once more, feeling the clench of her fingers around mine as she gives a great mighty one this time, and then I watch in awe as Angel's head is out. The doctor warns her not to push for a moment---the umbilical cord is wrapped 'round the baby's neck---and Liss looks to me with fear in her eyes, but I just look steadfastly at her, offering her my own strength and all my love, then the doctor gets it off of her and then asks if I'm ready. My heart's pounding as I look at my daughter, not quite yet fully out of my wife; and know it's my turn to move in and be there for both of them. They both trust me so much, with such love, and I look at Lissy, tired pride in her face as she actually manages to smile at me, even through all of this.

"Please, don't drop her," she teases, and I feel the unity between us, both of us working to bring this child into our lives, into the world. 

"I won't, Liss, I promise." The doctor shows me what to do, where to place my hands to help ease the baby out, and I smile back at her. "Ready?"

She nods, ready to fight once more. "That's my girl," I tell her, and then I feel Angel move forward, as Lissy pushes again. It takes two more, as I make sure the baby's supported, watching in wonder as she slowly emerges completely from Lissy and into my two outstretched hands.

I carefully turn her over; can see her for the first time, as I place her on top of Lissy and nurses move in to help wipe her off and draw her first breath. Though it's hard to see her in any great detail, 'cause I'm unashamedly crying by now. She's beautiful, smaller than I thought at first, especially since she was crowded inside her mum for such a long time. I thought she seemed bigger than she actually is. Her arms and legs are waving about, as she starts to cry and Liss reaches to touch her with tears streaming down her face, too. Pleased to say, I can already tell, she's a small replica of her mum. Got her mummy's dark eyes and dark hair, what a beaut of a baby girl. They let me cut the cord that connects the two of them still, and now she's totally free from Liss, and she's finally HERE. Thank God. I come up to stand close to Lissy as she cuddles the baby close, a rosy, healthy shade of pink, still fretting slightly as she wonders where she's at. I kiss the two of them and then we both look down at this child that we made---how incredible is that? Nothing I've ever done up until this time compares with creating this little girl with my wife. This is by far the most special, perfect thing I've done in my entire life. My heart swells with absolute pride.

"Hi, baby," Lissy tells her softly, and she stops crying as she hears her and finally puts a face to that voice she's been hearing all this time from within. I place a hand on her downy head. "Angel..." I coax, pleased when she turns towards me as well. "She definitely knows us," Liss says, smiling. God, this child is gorgeous. And Lissy; well, she's completely beautiful as well, even tired and a bit dishevelled; she's so radiant and happy. 

"Got to take her for a bit." One of the nurses apologetically moves in and lifts the baby off of her mum; she starts to fuss again at the feel of her tiny self leaving the security of Lissy's warmth and the shelter of her body. "You can come over here and watch," she invites me.

Don't want to leave my wife at this point; the emotions between us at an all-time high, but she senses my reluctance, reaching up to stroke my cheek. "Go with her, honey," she encourages, and so I kiss her and move to the other side of the room to watch the baby get weighed and measured. Angel's not sure who's got her now; her fussing's beginning to intensify, so I move in as close as I can, careful not to get in anyone's way and talk to her, reassure her I'm here and that her Mummy is close by. I know she recognises my voice because as soon as I begin to murmur to her, she calms, trying to find me with her slightly unfocused, huge brown eyes. I glance at Lissy and she's just lying there, her work finally over, watching us with her own lovely dark eyes, smiling, teary, loving the both of us with all she's got. She brought an outfit from home that she wants the baby dressed in; so I help her find it in the bag full of the baby's things we brought, and as the nurse dresses her in the soft pink gown and cap we picked out for her, I reach and touch Angel anywhere I can, her tiny hands and feet, the velvety curve of her cheek. Then they've got her all wrapped up in a blanket and they place her in my arms so I can bring her back to Lissy.

She's a small warm bundle, fitting easily in the crook of my arm, and as I look down at her she's quiet and just gazes back at me with this knowledgeable expression that takes my breath away. Sorta like, "so, you're the one who's been talking to me and playing with me all this time. You're my dad." I always said that she knew who I was when she was within Lissy's womb, and vowed that she would know me before she arrived, but until this moment, when she's looking at me with such acceptance and familiarity, I wasn't aware it was truly so. This overwhelms me and I begin to cry once more, standing there in the centre of the room cradling my daughter to me. When I lift my head and look at Lissy, she's still lying there observing the two of us with this wondrous lovely smile and tears falling freely down her own face. I bring the baby to her and place her gently and carefully into Lissy's waiting arms.

"She looked right at me," I explain, as Liss looks from her to me and then reaches with one hand for mine, "just looked right into my eyes, as if she knew exactly who I was. It's the most amazing thing."

"It is." The baby's now watching Liss with the same expression. She's not very old yet, but she's got this astounding wisdom in her gaze that floors me. "And of course she knows who you are. You're her Daddy."

"Yeah, I am." Neither one of us can resist now; we tug aside the blanket to marvel at her tiny fingers and toes---ten of each, so small but perfect---stroke her velvety cheeks, admire her little nose, her lips, lift her cap off to ruffle her lot of silky, dark curls. Through all of this manhandling by her parents, Angel just lies there, content to let us touch her all over and happy she's finally here as well. I kiss her and then Lissy. "You were incredible," I tell my wife honestly. "You had a strength in you I didn't know you had."

"I have you to thank for that." Suddenly, we realise it's just the three of us, alone in this room, for a few brief blessed minutes. "Who told everyone?" Lissy wants to know, also suddenly remembering we probably have an entire waiting room full of family outside who haven't a notion the baby's finally arrived.

I have to smile sheepishly. "They're going to kill me...I had one of those nurses do it. I wanted us to have some time together before they all come in here. So we've got just a bit before the great family invasion."

Liss looks down at our daughter, who's almost asleep in her arms. "We can't keep calling her Angel, Russ." 

"Sure we can. Can't we, little one?" I kiss her and she peeks sleepily at me before closing her eyes again. "She is one, you know." 

"Yes, she is...but we've got to name her so we can introduce her properly to everyone." Lissy smiles, though, as we both watch her peacefully sleeping now. I reach at the bedside table where I set the notebook in which, throughout this entire pregnancy, the two of us jotted down names that struck us as possibilities. Glancing over the list, then at the tiny pretty girl in my wife's arms, I know which one I personally like. Not sure what Lissy's thinking, though, so I hold the list up to remind her. She looks over them, reading silently, then she says, "I liked the first one we came up with."

I don't have to check back on the list to know which one that was. Laughing, I admit, "That's what I was going to say." 

We look at her some more, and the name, I can tell, definitely fits her. Then everyone is spilling into the room, quietly exclaiming over our new bundle of joy, and Liss nudges me, wanting me to be the one to introduce our daughter proper to the world.

"I'd like everyone to meet Liliana Jade Crowe. Lily, for short." 

Next day, we take baby Lily home and she seems to simply fit in so well with Lissy and me, as if she'd always been a part of us. And, if you think about it, I suppose she has; she's the physical embodiment of the love that we have between us.

I just love holding her and looking at her with wonder. I think about all that's happened to us, how much we've grown, both separately and as a couple, and then I look at Lil and realise how much more growing we'll do together, right there along with her. Everything about our daughter intrigues us. Sometimes, we'll lay her in the middle of us on our bed, when she's asleep, and the two of us will just watch her breathe. She's a miracle and a blessing, a gift beyond compare, and we're lucky to have her.

Liss has settled into motherhood with ease, embraced it, just as I suspected she would. Never having a child before kind of made me nervous the first few days out, 'till I realised that I wasn't gonna break Lily in two by touching her tiny self; Lissy, on the other hand, seemed to pick up on everything with this knack that made me wonder at it. Like I mentioned once before, maybe that's something women have instinctually that men somehow have to learn to acquire. Don't know, but now I think the two of us are turning out to be pretty good parents; Lily doesn't seem to mind that we're new at this; she's never been anyone's kid before, either. We learn something wonderful about her, from her, every single day.

Lil's a week old today; I can hardly believe it because on the one hand, it seems like we've known her forever; on the other, she's still so fragile and new. Liss has been breastfeeding her; while she's still so small we've decided it's easier to let her sleep in our room. I get up when they do if only to try to change Lily and give Lissy some sort of support and comfort. Needless to say, both of us are pretty sleep-deprived, but happy as hell and we wouldn't dream of complaining or wish life any different for us.

Today, Lissy was exhausted by mid-afternoon--- Lily's not too demanding on her, but it's still hard to get used to waking up in the middle of the night to feed her---and I told her I'd take care of the little one while she took a bit of a nap. She gratefully took me up on that.

I've got Lil in the nursery, sitting with her in the rocking chair, holding her in front of me in my two hands. She's so small, she fits easily like that, and she seems to enjoy it. Guess she realised I wasn't gonna break her in two, either. Anyhow, we've been cuddling and talking...okay, I've been doing all the talking...telling her all sorts of things, singing softly to her...and she's been lying there quietly, watching me and absorbing it all in. I think she either finds me fascinating or ridiculous; haven't quite made up my mind there. Seriously, we're already very close. Liss says she's gonna be a Daddy's girl; and that pleases me like mad. Every so often Lil will make a soft little sound, like she's trying to respond and I really wish I knew what she was thinking and feeling right about now.

Holding her like this, the chair rocking lazily back and forth, is lulling her to sleep, I can tell by the way her eyelids droop and she struggles to keep focusing on me. Have to say it's starting to affect me, too...we could all use some rest. So I ask if she wants to go lie down with Mummy...she waves her small fist in agreement...and I take her back to our room to go to sleep with Lissy.

Liss is curled up in her favourite position, on her side, able to do that now that she's not got that belly to contend with anymore, and I settle next to her, placing Lily on my chest. Like her Mum, she curls up, into me, content and warm and loved, and goes completely out on me almost immediately. If I lie real still I can hear both of them breathing, my wife and my daughter, and can feel Lily's tiny heart beating against me. It's a wondrous sensation. I reach up and brush my hand over Lil's silky head, marvelling as I always do at the beautiful perfection of her.  Lissy's sleeping with her back to me but I reach over with one hand and run my hand down her dark hair, too. She makes a small satisfied sound and then is still again.

I smile at that and then hold Lily close to me and let myself drift off to sleep. Am nearly out when I feel the bed shift and know, without even opening my eyes, Liss has turned over and is watching the two of us, the baby and me. I'm almost back asleep when I feel her close, know she's touching and kissing Lil and then I feel her own gentle kiss, light and soft as a butterfly, on me. So I reach for her and draw her close, loving the way her body, as always, moulds right into mine, and then, connected to each other by touch and by the ties that bind us together as a family, we all fall asleep once more.