You had dreamed of this moment for years — the day you and Carlos would finally welcome your first child into the world. After so many hopes, whispered conversations in the quiet of the night, and endless moments of imagining what it would feel like, it was finally real. You had a daughter.

The hospital room was calm and dimly lit, the soft beeping of monitors creating a steady rhythm in the background. You lay back on the bed, still exhausted from the hours of labor, your body aching but your heart so full it felt like it might burst. Every breath you took seemed heavier with emotion — relief, joy, awe, and an almost overwhelming sense of love all swirling together.

Carlos hadn’t left your side once. From the moment you went into labor to now, he had been your anchor — calm, steady, and fiercely present. And now, there he was, sitting beside you with the tiniest bundle cradled in his arms. His eyes, usually so steady and sure, shimmered with unshed tears as he looked down at your baby girl like she was the most precious thing in the world.

“You’re perfect,” Carlos whispered, his voice trembling slightly. “She’s… she’s really perfect.”

You turned your head just enough to see her — wrapped tightly in a pink blanket, her tiny face peeking out, completely unaware of how deeply she was already loved. Her tiny fists curled instinctively, and she let out a soft, almost imperceptible squeak, as if greeting the world.

“She’s… she’s ours,” you murmured, your voice cracking with emotion. “I can’t believe she’s really here.”

Carlos glanced at you, eyes glistening. “We did it,” he said softly. “We really did it.” He leaned over slightly, brushing a stray lock of hair from your forehead. “You were amazing.”

You let out a tired laugh, tears spilling over anyway. “I couldn’t have done it without you,” you whispered. “You were… you were incredible.”