The hospital room is bright, and the smell of disinfectant hangs in the air.

Your whole body aches, sweat is sticking to your forehead, and your patience is at an end.

Not because of the pain, but because of the man next to you.

George.

He's pacing.

Again.

His hands tugging at his hair, and his breathing is uneven. "Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God. I'm not okay. I think I'm going to pass out."

"George! I dare you!" You snap, squeezing your eyes shut as the next contraction hits. "You need to calm down!" You say in pain.

"I'm calm!" He insists, continuing to pace as if he's just getting ready for his homecoming race.

You give him a sharp look.

"No, you're not. You're panicking and that's making me panic and I'm the one giving birth here!" You snap at him.

He turns to look at you.

"Right. You're right. I'll calm down." He takes a deep breath and shakes his head.

"Good." You exhale during the contractions and hold his hand tighter when he's finally back by your side.

"I'm calm. What do you want me to do?" He asks nervously.

You roll your eyes, but softens a little. "Just stay here. Hold my hand and don't act like you're about to pass out!"

"I still think I'm going to pass out." He admits.

"George!" You snap at him again.

"Okay! I'm not going to pass out." He takes another deep breath and focuses on you.

"You're doing great, baby! You're amazing." He says, pressing a kiss to your sweaty forehead while brushing some hair from your face.

"Okay, it's time." The doctor speaks up.

George pales again, but to his credit, he stays calm and holds your hand while you do what you need to.

And then, after what feels like an eternity, a scream fills the room.

You collapse onto the pillows, exhausted, overwhelmed and in awe.

As the nurse places your baby in your arms, you feel your heart swell in a way you never thought possible.

"It's a beautiful little girl. Do you have a name yet?" The nurse asks you both, smiling.