It was utter chaos. You would think that even though there were only seven or so people that it wouldn't be as hectic but she'd thought wrong. She had to pray to God above to keep her tongue as her Aunt and mother both fussed about her hair and was she going to wear the dress without a hat? Taking deep breaths, she lowered her hands down to the slight wave that passed across the skin of her belly. The small flutters and butterflies that had made her feel strange now were full-fledged movements. 

Glancing down at her bare stomach, she watched with a gentle smile as a small lump appeared to her side. A soft finger poked back at it and it disappeared. Smiling increasing, she sat at her mother's vanity completely nude. Door shut. Just for a moment, it could be her and her child. 

"Are you excited too baby? I'm gonna marry your Papa today. Again." Looking up at herself in the mirror, she let her eyes roam her naked body. 

"The first time you weren't in my tummy yet. But this time it's extra special because you're here too." Tears began to well up in her eyes and she let them cascade down her cheeks. It has been strange... this whole pregnancy thing. Her body hadn't known what to think, what to do. And yet... it had. It adapted and grew. Big. Wide. Full. Slow and sure, careful. Perfectly nurturing and caring for the precious life it held inside. 

She hadn't actually stopped to think about it much; just let things happen... run their course. The emotions that crashed into her. The never-ending appetite. The tender breasts and legs that would give out. It wasn't easy... but was it worth it? Absolutely. Her momma's guidance grounded her. It gave her strength on the days when all she wanted to do was cry. When all she felt when she looked at herself in the mirror was big, fat and ugly. 'You getting more and more ready now Bea baby.' She hadn't been entirely sure what that meant but feeling her child turn, shift, and press against her stomach for the first time had been nothing short of miraculous. 

"Do you remember the first time you kicked me?" There, the shift. Listening. Attentive. 

"I was layin' down with your daddy. The mornin' was nice and bright but all we wanted to do was lay around in the dark. So we did. Just as your daddy put his hand around my belly, you kicked." Laughing out loud, she grinned wide. 

"He went all still and quiet. I was in such disbelief that I gasped real loud like somebody threw cold water on me. And then you did it again." Stroking the soft skin of her bump, she let the tears well up again. 

"He pressed his palm flat against you and hugged me tighter. It wasn't until I had my hand there too that you kicked one last time as if to say you were there and you were glad we were there too." With a small sigh, she lifted a hand to wipe her tears. 

"I wonder if this is how you felt, Ruby." She had been dreaming about her. Sometimes, they'd be sitting down on Momma's wraparound porch, dressed in casual dresses, and talking. Picking up from where they left off. Other times, she'd be back at that cell hand pressed to Ruby's belly from in between the bars. But then Ruby's hand would be pressed against her own. She'd cry and weep and her friend would just smile with resigned eyes.

 She was about as far along as she had been then. Everything engorged and big and more growing still to do. At 7 months now, had Ruby been ready? Of course, she'd already had children before... that hadn't been her first pregnancy. But...how had she coped with knowing that all these beautiful, painful and emotional moments with her child would come to an end? She imagined her being in that cell laying on that hard cold concrete, talking and confiding in the only thing that was there to listen... her baby. 

Thoughts of it broke her down and there were times when she'd cry for no reason... just out of nowhere. She was anxious. She was scared. She was increasingly uncomfortable and her sleep was disturbed. But even so, she was thankful. Grateful. Blessed.

"Bea baby, Pastor Bailey has arrived." Sniffling, she cleared her throat and hastily wiped her face now. 

"Yes ma'am."

"I'ma help you get dressed."

"Okay, Momma. Thank you." Sitting up in the chair, she waited until the door slowly came open and her mother peeked in before gripping the arms of the chair to prepare to stand. 

*** 

He'd been out on the porch smoking a cigarette when the sound of a throat clearing cut into the silence. Eyes turned to find a man by the door, hand still on the knob. The two of them didn't say much and he was the first to withdraw his gaze, focusing on the sprouts and leaves of the new vegetables Bea and her mother had planted. 

"You gotta nother smoke you can spare?" Placing his in between his teeth, he reached into his pockets and retrieved one, giving his lighter to the man, who accepted and thanked him. It was quiet out here, out in the early morning. For a summer day, the morning was cool but it felt good to him. The women had taken over the kitchen and it had grown stuffy inside the house. The older man glanced over at him as he blew out the nicotine in his breath. 

"Name's Mack. I'm Bea's uncle." He gave a single nod of acknowledgment. 

"What's yours?"

"Will." 

"Ah, okay. Well, Will. Nice to meet you. Pity it couldn't have been before today." 

"Hm." 

"Not much of a talker, huh?"

"No." Mack returned his earlier nod with one of his own. 

"I assume you're out here to tell me that you'll bury me ten feet under if something ever happens to her, right?" The man, to his surprise, actually laughed, smoke shooting out from his nostrils. 

"Ruth already covered that base it sounds like." He said in between chuckles. 

"I ain't gon lie to you, I'm overprotective over Beatrice. But, from what I've observed so are you. So, in that way, I guess we understand each other." Interest peaked, he turned to look at him. 

"Della and I don't know nothin' about you. Other than the fact you some Japanese guy Bea somehow found and brought way back here from outta nowhere according to her momma." His tone was calm and heavy, friendly even.

"Way I see it, if Beatrice wanted us to know about you, she woulda told us." More smoke wafted between them. 

"Unlike her Aunt and Mother, I feel different. Bea ain't no little girl no more. She a grown woman who lives her life the way she want to. Her decisions are her own and she got plenty good reason for some of 'em I reckon. Like why she ain't tell us about you. Sure there was a pretty big reason." He didn't answer outside of an exhale of nicotine. 

"Rightfully so, Will, I'm curious as all hell about you. You're one mysterious guy."

"Am I?" Mack grinned. 

"Yeah. Mista tall doom and gloom. Ya neva smile and half the time you look like you constipated." With a sigh, his entire body relaxed and the apprehensive tension left his shoulders. 

"There are never things that soldiers smile about unless you live long enough to take a shit."

"So you are a veteran?"

"Yes."

"Ruth mentioned that. Served in the Army?"

"Yeah." 

"Yeah, I reckon there are plenty things you saw that wouldn't make a man smile much." 

"Are you a veteran?" 

"No. It was pure luck. I have flat feet and by their standards, I was too short. Somehow, that didn't make me able-bodied enough to serve in the Corp." 

"Ah," Quiet hugged them for a while longer before, 

"I noticed you ain't got no kind of family out here. No man to talk to. Why's that? You'd think they would be here on the biggest day of their son's life."

"It's complicated." Is all he said, lifting his cigarette back up to his mouth. 

"Hm. Guess so then. Well, " To his surprise, he lifted his hand and gently clapped his shoulder. 

"How you feelin' bout everything? We men handle things different than women do. But, that don't mean we ain't feeling the same thing they are." Flicking the butt across the porch ledge, he just as quickly pulled out another one and lit it, an unspoken confirmation. 

"I been where you are, son. Young. Scared shitless. When you approaching fatherhood, everything scares you. You start thinking bout everything. Doubting everything." 

"Hm." 

"You see your woman go through her changes, watch her belly grow and her fear increase. So it make you just as scared. Though, you'd never tell her that. We try to be strong, solid, and supportive like a pillar. Cause that's what we been told to do. I reckon it would be okay to let that wall come down once in a while." He seemed to be digesting his words well though he still hadn't replied. Mack took the cue to continue, 

"Every one of us are scared, Will. Ruth is scared. Her only daughter about to become a mother in a few months. She sees herself in Bea... wants to try to prevent her from making some of the same mistakes she did. She's also grieving still. She neva got over the death of her husband, Joe or her son." 

"Hm."

"Della was there through it all. Tried to convince her sister not to run off with Joe but she did it anyway, causing a rift between their parents that neva was the same. It's like history repeating itself." The man ran fingers across his short hair. 

"Ruth told me about y'all conversation. Where you threatened her." Eyes now back on the growing garden, he was quiet as the man talked. 

"She didn't understand like I did... you wasn't threatenin' her cause you were some heartless bastard. You did it cause you were tryna do what you know best how to do. Protect what's important to ya. Besides, she doesn't think about the fact that men can be afraid too with these things. You're scared-"

"Out of my fucking mind. Yes." He cut in before blowing the last of the nicotine-filled smoke out of his mouth. Dropping the cigarette instead of flicking it he crushed it underneath his shoe. Mack didn't say a word, only smiled, nodded, and lifted his hand to his shoulder one last time before going back into the house. 

"Welcome to the family, Will. You'll be just fine, son." 

*** 

Excitement doused her body but nervousness was there to dry her off. Taking one last look at herself, she watched as the arms of her mother came around her shoulders. 

"I look like a whale in white Momma... Lord Jesus." Her mother's gaze was full of emotion and she shook her head against her. 

"You look like my pretty Bea baby. My smart, pretty Beatrice Grace." 

"You think he'll think I'm pretty?" It took her mother a while before she answered, watching her daughter analyze and pick everything about her appearance apart. 

"I know he will, Bea." Lifting her daughter's head, she made her look at her in the mirror. 

"Straighten up baby. You a Jones woman. Never let 'em see you lookin' down." Feeling pride hit her in the chest, she swallowed down her self-depreciating feelings and gave her mother a strong smile.

"That's right. Now, let's gon down here and get you married to that crazy man of yours." No argument to that, she turned to face the door. Giving her a small smile, her mother opened the door and waited until she walked out into the hallway before following her. As they came down the stairs, the chatter below started to wan. Her Aunt Millie and Uncle Darryl were here from North Carolina, Aunt Della and Uncle Mack from Michigan. Pastor Bailey. And then there was her man, sticking out from amongst them like a sore thumb. Their eyes cut into her and she tried to shoo away the feeling of self-consciousness as their gazes fell to her pregnant stomach. 

"Well, there's the pretty bride." Mack smiled big and wide and stood up from the couch. Aunt Millie wore her shock well on her face, and she kept looking back and forth between her and Ichiro. She didn't say much, just gave a tight pained smile as she got up to hug her. Uncle Darryl kissed her on the forehead but otherwise didn't interact with her. 

"Don't pay them no mind. They haven't seen you in a real long time. They just shocked." Mack whispered against her temple as he wrapped large warm arms around her. Her fingers started to pinch the backs of her hands. Pastor Bailey took a good look at her, her condition and cleared his throat. 

"If the bride and groom are ready then we will begin." All other family pulled away from her at that moment, leaving just the two of them. He watched her pick at her hands and with a couple heavy footsteps crossed the space in between them. Reaching for them, he grasped them in his hands, causing the action to cease. It was so quiet that you could hear a pin drop in the living room. But, somehow, as soon as he looked at her, all else seemed to fade into the background. He didn't say much, preferring to let his touch speak for him. 

Letting go of her hands, he lifted both of his own and took hold of her face. Eyes downcast now met his. The silent conversation that seemed to take place between the two of them, her hands lifting to press against his chest, the life that lit a small warm fire in his eyes as he looked down at her, the lips that pressed a single kiss against her forehead, the entire exchange left everyone breathless. Whatever he said in his actions she received with a breath and small smile and soon their hands dropped to entangle themselves. Turning towards the pastor, they stood side by side and never once let go of each other. 

"Bea, are you ready?" Bailey asked, smiling at her. 

"Yes, sir." His gaze firmed up a tad but still warm as he looked at Ichiro. 

"And you, son?" A single nod. 

"Well then, let's begin." 

*** 

Screaming filled the house in the wee hours of the morning. The agony of a woman etched itself into the walls and neighbors were awakened. Knocks on the door and hurried concerned footsteps entered. 

*** 

"How you began is of no importance, really. What matters is that you have a story. A history. An unbreakable bond. In just minutes, the two of you have shown us all that you have just that." 

*** 

"Millie, get towels from the linen closet! Della, you call the midwife yet?"

"She said she on her way. She 30 minutes out." 

"Poor girl, she need somebody now." 

"I birthed babies before. I fill in till the midwife get here." One of the neighbors next door spoke up but there was no time to argue or debate. 

"Good enough, come on." 

*** 

"Family can be funny sometimes. The unit can be twisted up and dysfunctional. It can be large and warm and understanding. Plenty of questions. Plenty of curiosity. Fear. Worry. Just how are we going to do this? Are we going to survive? These questions we all ask ourselves at times. For those about to become new parents, it is frightening." 

*** 

Opening the door, they found Beatrice on the floor naked as the day she was born, her nightgown ripped off and thrown away from her and in tears. 

"Bea baby...momma's here." She knelt over the sobbing woman and tried to get her to sit up. 

"Momma..."

"I know, my girl. Let's get you comfortable. Come on." Her and her Aunt helped her sit and lift to stand. 

"She can't be naked like this, Ruth." Millie.

"It's her choice. Bea baby, you want something on?"

"No!" 

"There we have it. Come on, up, girl, up. Let's lay you down." The women helped move her back to the bed and laid her on her back. 

"Looks like we well past early labor now. She almost ready to start pushin." The woman from next door, now known as Loretta, said as she accessed the appearance of her dilated cervix. 

"How open is she?"

"Bout as big as she can get." 

"How long early labor last her?"

"Bout 8 hours already." They ceased speech as a contraction ripped through her, long and short breathy wails escaping her mouth. 

"Breathe, Beatrice. In through your nose now, come on." Soaked with sweat, her body trembled from the pain and she couldn't do anything but weep. 

"Where's my husband...where...is...he?!" She grunted, trying to fight against the urge to push. 

"I ain't... pushin' till he... get... in... here." 

*** 

"God works in mysterious ways, don't he? He knows what we need and when we need it. Without us even havin to tell him or ask him. He knew you would need this man. He's your backbone, he's your strength when you get weary. As strong of a woman that I know you to be, Beatrice Grace Jones, sometimes you need a moment to be weak." 

*** 

"ICHIRO! Oh Godddddd ICHIROOOOOO...." 

"Who the hell is Ichiro? What she goin' on about?"

"Who the hell else, Millicent? That must be Will middle name or somethin' get him in here before she passes out." 

"Men ain't allowed in the woman's birthin room. She gon have to-"

"Gawddamn it, if you ain't gonna get him I'm gonna do it. Move the hell out my way!" Beatrice hissed, trying to get up, amidst the arms strugglin' to hold her down. 

"Now, now Bea, focus on ya breathin baby. We'll get ya man. Focus on ya breathin." 

"If you ain't gonna help her birth this damn baby then git the hell out the room, Millicent Lee. GIT!" Ruth hollered, causing the woman to flinch. Turning on her heel, she flung open the door and ran down the hallway and down the stairs, her heavy footsteps thumping on the way down. 

"Loretta, can you go and get Will?"

"Sure thing. Um..."

"You'll know him when you see him. Big tall Asian man."

"Yes ma'am." 

*** 

"Sometimes, it ain't good for a man to hold all of his pain inside. It ain't good to be alone. That's why God made a woman from the rib of Adam. He formed and molded her into flesh and blood, a gift for Adam. A helpmate. What's your name, son?"

"Will." 

"We as men can be lone wolves sometimes. Our big wide shoulders carry so much of the world. What I see is that you need a safe space. You crave it so bad and I'm sure for years, being in the military, you didn't feel like you had any place to go where you could just... let all the weight fall. I get it. I see it. Beatrice is your safe place. God knew you needed her to be your peace. That's why he made her. Just for and only for you." 

*** 

Coming onto the front porch, the heaving woman scanned the men sitting in a little cluster on the porch, all with cigarettes mashed up into their mouths. All but one sat. He stood up and stood still, composed. Except his hand revealed his anxiety as it lifted a shaky nicotine stick to his firm flat mouth. That had to be the one. Like a needle in a haystack, he was most obviously different from the others and yet he seemed to blend in just as well. 

"Is Will out here?" She took the liberty of asking even though she knew. His dark gaze lifted and for a moment, she stared into his bewitchingly intense monolid eyes. 

"S-She...She wants you." Is all she could utter, watching as he took one last inhale and snuffed out the remaining stick, slipping it into his pocket. Without a word, he brushed past her, entering into the house behind her. Swallowing, the woman cleared her throat and soon followed him, who was nearly up the stairs by then. 

*** 

"It gives me hope seeing you two. The journey hasn't been easy. I don't have to know you to know that. And maybe the journey ain't gonna be easy moving forward. But when times get rough and you don't know how you are going to make it another day, Beatrice, grab hold to him. Will, grab hold to her. Don't let go." 

*** 

It reminded him of a battle scene. All the blood. The pain, the agony, the suffering. A battle that only his wife was fighting. For a moment, he couldn't move. It was like his feet were nailed to the floor and all he could do was watch her writhe and scream, tears, blood, and sweat. All he could do was witness the miracle, the power, the divinity that existed within her little naked body, as it contorted and stretched, trembled and thrust to bring forth the tiny being that had been but a seed breathed and made from their love. 

"Will! She needs you now. Come here." The firm voice of her mother smacked him out of the reverie and he came into the room. The woman who had fetched him now knelt on the bed, in between her legs. Drawing closer, his chest felt like a balloon and at any moment, with one prick, it would explode open. Jaw clenched tight, he neared her until the contraction passed and she for a moment relaxed. 

"We should move her to another position now. Gravity will help." The woman from the porch ordered, getting up from the bed. The small cluster of women helped her rotate to the edge of the bed and it was then that she finally noticed him. 

"Ichiro... you're here..." 

"Would you like to try upright, Bea?"

"Yeah..." On three, they stood her up and she reached for him.

"Hold me daddy... please hold me..." Their fingers entwined and a sigh of relief hushed through her as his arms came around her. Light gentle fingers brushed back her hair from her face and lips pressed kisses against her brow. 

"You're unlike anything I've ever seen." His voice spoke softly against her temple. 

"I am in awe of you, my beautiful little fox." Language lost on the others, whatever he'd said made her smile and open her eyes to look up at him. One of his hands drifted down her back and began to slowly rub her tailbone. She seemed to melt under his touch and accepted it well with a tired closed-mouthed smile and content-closed eyes. 

"Rag." His hand requested and was given and he lifted it to blot the sweat from her hairline, nose, forehead, and chin. Bending down a tad more, he kissed her lips. 

"Are you ready to push?" He asked against her mouth, tiny loving pecks against her bottom lip. 

"Yeah..." Her breath had started to change and her brow now furled up. Pain started to enter her face and at once, she slipped her hands up the backs of his biceps and gripped his shirt. 

"I'm...I'm ready..." 

*** 

"With nothing left to be said, I proudly take your hand, Beatrice, and join it to this man, Will. Under the sight of God the Father, The Holy Ghost, and the Son, you are husband and wife. Yoked together until your souls depart from your mortal bodies, through trouble and calm, peace and illness, don't let go." 

*** 

Nails embedded themselves into him. 

"Push Beatrice!" Her screams and moans sent chills through his body. 

"Good girl, pushh...good now breathe." Blood soaked the towels that had been placed underneath her and she grunted, teeth clenched as she worked through the last of the contraction. As it passed, exhaustion weakened her and she fell against him, nails finally departing from his skin, taking with it the blood of his sacrifice. 

"Bea, we almost there. Baby's head I see it. Try grabbin' that chair and squatting." 

"No.... I can't...." She breathed, voice depleted and empty. 

"I'm so tired..." 

"Don't quit on me, Beatrice." It sounded harsh and hard coming out of his mouth and the woman coaching her flinched. 

"You ain't gotta talk to her like that, she's tryin' the best way she can." 

"No... no he...he right." Breathing hard through her nostrils, she tried to stand upright. 

"You right Papa..."

"No quitting?"

"No quitting." She agreed and he helped her get to the chair. Taking a seat behind her on the bed, he reached for her hips and slowly held them steady as she lowered herself down onto the plush cushion. Relaxing against him, she welcomed his hands as they slid up her shoulders. 

"When you ready, Bea baby. When you feel like you gotta push, push with everythin' you got." 

"Deep breaths, here?"

"Yes... okay..." It didn't take long for the contraction to start and she did her best to breathe through it but the intense pain incapacitated her and she gripped the sides of the chair, soon a sobbing mess. 

"You're doing so well. I'm proud of you." He encouraged her, dabbing her face of sweat. 

"So tired daddy... I want it out.... please..." As close as the chair would allow, he pressed his body against hers. Prying her hands away from the sides of the chair, he kissed her fingers. Her wrists and forearms received the same and he took hold of her arms just underneath the elbow. Pulling her back, he lifted her arms up and around his neck, forcing her hands to hold one another. 

"You gave me your word that you wouldn't quit." He whispered against her temple. 

"You're almost there. It's almost over." She sniffled, chin trembling as he pressed his face against hers. A wail rose up from her throat as she pushed and she gave it all she had, with the remaining strength she had left. 

"Her legs bout to go out, hold em' open for me, Will." He reached down and grabbed her under the knee and held fast, the muscles in her thighs trembling and unstable. 

"Good, a little more! Baby is halfway out. Push, push push!" With an almost enraged grunt, she hugged him close and bared down until the last of the baby finally came out. The shrill piercing cry of her child, despite her haggard breath, made her break down. Body going completely slack, only the arms of her husband kept her up and her exhausted sobbing made his throat heavy. 

"It's a girl! A beautiful little girl!" Emotion high, her mother began to cry and she rushed to hug and cover her daughter. It took a while before the umbilical cord was cut and the baby was cleaned and wrapped in a couple of blankets. By then, all Bea wanted was to see her. Gladly giving the woman her child, all stood in awe as she held her tiny little form against her chest, dipping her nose to smell her and press kisses against her head. 

"I think we should give the parents time with their baby now, what you think?" Teary eyes and smiles agreed and soon the two of them were left to themselves. 

*** 

As soon as the door closed, I remember starting to cry. I was in disbelief. Shock. Awe. A tiny human looked up at me, confused watery eyes trying to take everything in. I was instantly afraid... so fucking scared in that one moment that I wouldn't ever be worthy to love something so small and precious. I rummaged through Bea's drawers to find something comfortable for her to put on and settled on one of her robes. For just a moment, she separated from her as I helped her into it, pulling her back to rest against her breast. As happy as the moment was, watching the two of them, I felt a pang of intense guilt rip me open at the stomach. 

Memories of bellies housing children, innocent babies that did no man any wrong, knives I held in my hand, watching others in other hands... rip and cut and tear, silent bloody lumps, others almost fully and fully formed, enough that they had lungs to take in air, mouths to cry. The moment between the mother and the child... so many I'd crushed and stolen. I wasn't worthy. I didn't deserve to have my beautiful wife look up at me with happy tears. I didn't deserve to have her beckon me closer, to call out to me with that damned soft sweet voice of hers. But even so, I came closer like a defeated dog, tail in between his legs. 

*** 

"Ichiro," He stood in front of her but he didn't move, didn't do anything but weep, the emotion of everything too much for him. He hung his head low and his shoulders shook under the weight of his past. She knew it was tormenting him.... trying to steal and rob him of this moment of fatherhood. 

"Ichiro, look at me." He said not a word, just shook his head no...his breaths ragged and choppy. 

"You gon hurt my feelins if you don't look at me. You're gonna make me think I did somethin' wrong, Papa..."

"No." His voice was gruff and hard. 

"You have done everything right. Everything...more than what I could ever ask for..." 

"Then why won't you do as I'm askin'?"

"Because." The word was biting and harsh. 

"I don't deserve it." 

"Said who?" Tears now dripped onto the floor. 

"After everything I have done, who would think I'm worthy of this?"

"You ain't answer my question. I asked you who told you that?" It was quiet for a while before, 

"No one."

"No one. Right." Reaching for his hand, she took hold of it and he let her. 

"It wouldn't matter even if somebody did said it. My momma. My Aunt Millie. It don't mean a damn thing, not to me it don't." 

"Beatrice,"

"I decide what you're worthy of. You hear me?" Jaw clenched, finally, his eyes lifted and met her own teary ones. 

"You're more than enough for me, Ichiro. As you are... the man you are right now... that man deserves me." His fingers closed around hers. 

"This little girl deserves you as her father. No one else." Shaky breaths and sucked-up tears filled the room and he lifted his free hand to try to wipe them away. 

"I'm gonna fuck up, Bea. I'm terrified of fucking this up."

"We're both gon fuck this up, Papa. You ain't perfect and neither am I. We gon make mistakes. We been making mistakes. But haven't we always figured our way out?" He gave her a nod. 

"Right. We figure this out like everything else." 

"Mm."

"I ain't gon give up you. Don't you dare give up on me. I'll never forgive you if you do." He took in her words and finally closed the space between them, pulling her against him in a hug. His eyes looked up at the ceiling, the last of his tears slipping down his cheeks. To their surprise, the baby was quiet, choosing to sleep rather than cry.

"You wanna hold her?" Letting his fingers glide down the mess that was her hair, he allowed himself a smile, teeth and all. 

"Yes." 

*** 

I didn't know what the hell I was doing... how even to hold the tiny thing they called a baby. But looking down at her as she pressed against my chest, I felt my throat tighten. The sight of her nestled against my bare skin melted me into an endless sea of light and joy. A feeling I let myself feel. Taking a careful finger, I traced her little nose, a nose that she got from her mother. Small yet plump lips too from her mother. The shape of her eyes, her chin, the full head of hair. That... that I recognized as belonging to me and it made me laugh. What was certain was that this tiny little thing they called a baby... was most definitely mine. She was all mine. 

A/N: This whole entire chapter made me emotional. Like... I started thinking about my own mom (who is deceased) and what she must have been feeling while carrying me. It really was a personal chapter for me, so much of my heart went into this. The beauty and blessing of a mother... to be able to give life, bring life into the world. Yeah, I'm getting choked up. I miss my momma lol. I ADORE Bea and Ichiro's entire interaction, I love them together. How they talk to each other, how they act around each other. Just love THEM. My favorite part beside the privilege of writing Bea bringing their baby into the world was Ichiro receiving her at the end. I legit cried writing it... his fear, his guilt... his overwhelming love. This chapter is so powerful to me. I hope you enjoyed hehe. 

Love you all. 

DL

Bea's wedding dress:

Ichiro's look: