******************
“It hurts so bad!” Georgia screamed.
“Pant!” I screamed back. “Pant! Puff, puff, puff, pufffff!”
“Stop blowing in my face!” She yelled at me.
Another contraction ripped through her body. “Mrs. Smith!” the doctor said. “I need one more big push.”
“You can do it, Hun!” I held her hand, or rather; she gripped mine in a vice.
I saw our hands. My fingers were white from the lack of circulation. The lights above the table reflected off our rings.
******************
“Look at her eyes, Michael! She’s so alert.” Georgia was in the recovery room.
She cradled our little Vanessa in her left arm.
I stroked Georgia’s hair. My ring twinkled as her hair polished it. “She’s beautiful, Hun. Thank you.”
She looked up at me. “That wasn’t so bad. I could do it again?”
Tears streamed down my cheeks. “Honey, you mean you would go through this again? You had so much pain!”
“I want our dream of a girl and a boy.” Her hand rested on the blankets warming our new daughter – the gold of her band accented by the white cloth.
******************
“Mr. Smith, meet your new son.” The nurse smiled and placed him in my arms.
“Hi, Justin!” He cried and waved his tiny arms in response. I placed our new son in Georgia’s arms. “Thank you! Thank you so much!” I bent and kissed her. My left hand stroked her cheek. My gold band shone with her perspiration. “I love you.”
******************
We sat across the table from each other. A candle burned between us. Hushed voices from other tables filtered through my thoughts.
I looked into those brown eyes, as I so often did. “Happy anniversary, Georgia.”
“Happy anniversary, Michael.”
“Ten years! Can you believe it?”
“I hope the kids are OK.”
“Hun, they’re fine. This is our night.” I reached for her hand and held it in mine.
Like the bands in a tree trunk, our skin had begun to show the wrinkles of life. The fire of the candle reflected off our rings, reminding me of a night long ago, when she smiled and said, “I’m pregnant.”
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