It had been hours—long, exhausting, grueling hours. Your labor had been nothing like you’d imagined. You'd hoped for a smooth, quick delivery, but instead, it felt like your body was betraying you, giving way to wave after wave of pain, exhaustion, and frustration. The contractions were relentless, and the last thing you wanted was anyone in your space. Especially the team.

But no matter how much you had begged for them to stay away, the BAU wouldn’t let up. They called, they texted. You loved them, you truly did, but right now? You were so done.

"Why can't they just leave me alone?" you muttered under your breath

"I’ll tell them to stop texting you," Emily murmured, her voice calm, though her eyes were filled with concern. “I know you’re tired. You’re doing amazing.”

Finally, hours later, after what felt like an eternity, the time came. You could feel your body give in, the girls arriving after what felt like an impossible battle. The world around you was a blur as they laid the twins, two beautiful girls, on your chest.

Your heart swelled with a mixture of overwhelming love and exhaustion. You could hardly believe they were here. After everything—the IVF, the long months of uncertainty, the endless procedures—they were finally here.

"Congratulations," the nurse said softly, her voice filled with warmth. “They’re perfect.”

You barely had the energy to respond, but as you gazed down at the tiny, wriggling girls, you felt an overwhelming sense of peace wash over you. They were here. They were safe.

Then, as if on cue, the nurse pulled something out of her pocket. It was your phone. “I know you said no photos,” she began hesitantly, “but... I couldn’t resist. I hope you don’t mind.”

You looked at her, half-exhausted, and your first instinct was to protest. But when she showed you the pictures she had sneakily taken—images of your tiny daughters, wrapped in blankets, snuggled against your chest—you couldn’t help but smile through the exhaustion.