CHAPTER 36
“We need to lose ourselves in order to truly find who we are…”
MARIA GAbrIELA
“Push, girl, you’ve got this!” Carol’s voice echoed beside me, firm and steady, while I took a deep breath and braced myself for another contraction.
I’d been in labor for hours, and even though I knew this was the road to finally meeting my baby, the pain was almost unbearable.
“You’re doing great, Maria Gabriela, we’re almost there!” one of the nurses encouraged, her calm tone trying to soothe the chaos my body was going through.
The doctor was focused but composed, guiding me through the process with the kind of experience that gave me a flicker of comfort. I’d never imagined it would be like this. I’d heard stories about labor before, but living it was something entirely different.
I felt Carolina squeeze my hand tightly, and a wave of gratitude washed over me.
“One more time, Gabi—breathe and push,” she said with a gentle smile, trying to lighten the tension.
I knew that behind that smile were fear and worry—but above all, love. I squeezed her hand back, trying to draw some of her strength.
The next contraction hit hard, and a raw cry escaped my lips. It felt like my entire body was on fire, but deep down, I knew the end was close.
I could feel it.
The doctor gave a quick signal, and the nurse adjusted my position slightly.
“Come on, just one more, Maria Gabriela. I can see the baby’s head!” the nurse urged, her warm smile encouraging me as I prepared for the final push.
I gathered every ounce of strength left in me and, with one last desperate cry, felt the sudden relief of pain as my baby entered the world.
My eyes filled with tears, exhaustion crashing over me, but then I heard the clear, piercing cry of a newborn.
“It’s a girl!” the nurse exclaimed joyfully, bringing the tiny bundle closer to me.
My heart raced, and in that moment everything seemed to stop. The world around me faded as I looked at my daughter’s face. She was here, in my arms—so small, so perfect. Tears streamed down my cheeks, but this time they were pure happiness.
All the pain, all the anxiety, all the fear—gone. All that was left was her. My daughter.
Carolina was sobbing beside me, clearly overwhelmed.
“Gabi, she’s beautiful!” she said, her voice breaking as tears spilled freely down her face. “I told you you could do it.”
I smiled at her, still unable to believe this was real.
“Yes… we did it,” I murmured, my voice hoarse from exhaustion.
My eyes went back to my daughter, now calm, her tiny eyes half-open, as if she too was trying to adjust to the world.
“What’s her name?” the nurse asked gently as she tucked the blanket around the baby’s delicate body.
I closed my eyes for a moment, letting the emotions wash over me.
I’d thought about this for so long, but now, holding her in my arms, the name fit naturally.
“Clara…” I whispered, smiling down at her. “Her name is Clara.”
Carolina smiled through her tears, and the nurse nodded warmly.
“Clara. A beautiful name for a strong little girl.”
The doctor and staff moved around us, checking everything, making sure Clara and I were okay. Fatigue was beginning to pull at me, but I couldn’t take my eyes off her, not even for a second.
“She’s perfect, Gabi…” Carolina said softly, stroking my hair. “And she’s lucky to have you as her mom.”
Her words hit me hard.
For months, I’d carried the fear of not being enough, of not being ready to raise a child alone. But in that moment, as I looked at Clara, I knew I’d do anything for her. I’d fight with everything I had to give her everything she needed.
The love I felt for her was overwhelming. And even though I didn’t know what the future held, I was sure of one thing: I’d never be alone again.
Clara would be my light. My purpose.