I lay here panting and cussing out my Alpha for doing this to me while each contraction feels like I am being ripped open from the inside out. My hair is plastered to my face, and he keeps telling me how beautiful I am right now, bringing life into this world. Six hours into hell, the midwife tells me to give her one more big push, and she smiles and tells me the head is out.
I lay back exhausted until the next contraction, and then I give one more mighty push, and the midwife smiles and lifts the baby to allow Alpha Lucky to cut the cord.
As I lay there, exhausted yet exhilarated, Alpha Lucky’s voice broke through the haze of my emotions. “My son, you are perfect,” he whispered, his tone filled with awe and tenderness. I watched as he carefully swaddled our newborn in a soft, baby-blue
