Epilogue 2
STELLA
Three Years Later.
“I never should have listened to you.” Grunting through the pain, I’d like to throttle my husband in the moment.
“I love you,” he smiles while brushing my sweaty hair off my face and rubbing a cool cloth along the back of my neck.
“Shut up!” I pant and drop back onto the bed, trying to breathe with my eyes closed when another contraction hits hard. Screaming through it, I push, and the pressure builds until it feels like I’ll explode before blessed relief and a tiny wail.
“God, I really fucking love you, sugar.”
I watch through slitted eyes as Vito cuts the cord of our sixth child. I want to kick him in the dick, but the asshole would only take it as foreplay before spanking me for hours on end.
“Take it out. Take all of it out. I don’t want this again,” I yell at anyone who’ll listen. The truth is, I love being pregnant but hate the pain and exhaustion of birth. Something has to give.
After his failed vasectomy and the birth of our fifth child, a little over a year ago, they said it shouldn’t happen again.
Spoiler alert: It did.
I’m now the proud mother of three girls and three boys, and Vito struts around like a proud peacock because nothing will stop his super sperm, it seems. We’ll have to see about that, though.
“He’s gorgeous,” the nurse says as she places him on my chest while the doctors deliver my placenta and decide if the tearing needs to be stitched.
“I’m going to take him for a bath and get him cleaned up, and then we’ll meet you in your room?” the nurse states. We discussed this beforehand, so I knew what would happen, but it doesn’t make it any easier to let him go.
“Okay.” I breathe through the tears. “Don’t feed him, though. I’m breastfeeding again.” It’s one of my favorite things to do with the kids. It’s allowed me special bonding time with each of them.
It might be a little more complicated feeding two now, but I’ll manage. Vito will help me too.
“We’ll see you soon, Momma,” she says, and I watch my son go, then glance up at Vito, and he’s immediately on it.
“I’ll go with him, find you some food too,” he promises. “Burger, shake, fries, mozzarella sticks?” That’s been my first meal request after every baby we’ve had.
After I nod, he leaves, and I close my eyes while the doctor finishes up the procedure. “You have a special one there,” he says, and I couldn’t agree more.
Especially when I’m brought into our room, and he’s there waiting with the food, a sleeping baby, my mom, and our oldest son, who has set up flowers, cards from his siblings, and a video call with Dark and Hael, who couldn’t make it to Florida in time.
This is so perfect. Life with Vito is everything I never knew I was blessed to have, and I couldn’t be happier.
The End!
Thank you for reading Be my Baby & C*me like a Dirty Girl.