I can't stop watching you hold our little girl in your arms while singing softly to her and stroking her cheek with your index finger. My God, if I'd known, I would have gotten you pregnant long ago. If it were up to me, we would have had three babies by now, but you've always insisted on getting married before starting with the children, and I can never deny you anything.

The door opens slowly, and my mother peeks her head out. I smile as soon as I see her and get up from the chair next to your bed, walking over to her and giving her a hug. She can't help but tear up a little, and that's normal, as she says: Now my baby has a baby.

"Are she awake? I can't wait to see her..." she asks, wiping away a tear that runs down her cheek.

"She just woke up a little while ago. She's quite active, and she likes to observe everything," I say, laughing, stepping to the side so my mother can see you and the little girl in the hospital bed. "Do you want to know her name?" I ask, turning my head toward her again.

When we found out it was a girl, we couldn't decide on a name for her; none of them caught our attention enough to name our daughter after. One day I came home and you were waiting for me in the driveway with tears in your eyes. I was quite worried because I thought something bad had happened to the baby. You told me you had called my mother that afternoon because you were feeling ill and didn't want to bother me while i was at the studio, so without hesitation, she traveled two hours from her house to be with you. That's when you told me you wanted to name the little girl after my mother.

"Her name is Rosie Anne," I tell my mother, my gaze filled with love. It doesn't take long for her eyes to fill with tears.

"You're not serious..." my mother whispers, making me laugh. "Are you serious?"