You was in labor and Lorenzo was driving to the hospital and you were groaning in pain

You: “LORENZO HURRY!” LORENZO: “I’M TRYING AS HARD AS I CAN DARLING!” You: “TRY HARDER!”

The last few hours blurred together into pain, panic, shouting, and Lorenzo cursing at traffic like his life depended on it.

But now…

The room was quiet.

Soft hospital lights glowed above you. Sweat clung to your forehead, hair messy, chest rising and falling as you tried to steady your breathing after the storm of labor.

And across from you, seated in the little blue hospital chair, was Lorenzo Berkshire — your husband — with your newest baby bundled in his arms.

He looked exhausted. He looked terrified. He looked completely, hopelessly in love.

The tiny baby squirmed in his hold, a warm little bundle wrapped in a pale blanket, a tiny dummy bobbing gently as it suckled in its sleep.

Lorenzo glanced up at you, eyes softening instantly.

“Love…” he whispered, voice cracking just a little. “Look at them.”

You shifted slowly, wincing but managing a tired smile as he stood and came closer.

Your six older kids — three boys and three girls — were safe at home with your relatives, waiting anxiously for news. But right now, it was just the three of you.

Lorenzo lowered himself to sit carefully beside your bed, holding the newborn so you could see.

The baby blinked sleepy eyes open — bright, curious, and impossibly tiny — and made a soft squeaking sound.

Your heart melted on the spot.

Lorenzo let out a breathless laugh.

“They already sound like one of ours,” he whispered.

You brushed a shaking finger over the baby’s cheek.

“Girl or boy?” you asked softly, still in disbelief.

He smiled.

“A boy,” he said, voice filled with awe. “Another little prince in the Berkshire chaos.”

Your chest tightened with emotion.

You looked at him — at his messy curls, the faint tear stains on his cheeks, the way he cradled the baby like he was holding the entire universe.

“You did amazing,” Lorenzo murmured, leaning down to kiss your temple. “I’m so bloody proud of you.”

You laughed tiredly. “You were screaming louder than me in the car.”

He flushed. “I was driving eighty miles an hour with my pregnant wife yelling at me — I’m allowed to panic.”

You smiled, eyes drifting back to the baby.

Lorenzo shifted the newborn gently into your arms, guiding your hands, careful and tender.

“There you go, darling,” he whispered. “Meet our son.”

The moment he settled against your chest, the baby sighed, small and content, as though he already knew exactly who you were.

You felt tears prick your eyes.

Lorenzo wrapped an arm around you from behind, pulling you gently against him, resting his chin on your shoulder as you both looked down at your newborn boy.

“Seven kids…” he muttered, almost in disbelief. “We’re absolutely insane.”

You smirked weakly. “Blame yourself. You’re the reason I married into chaos.”

He kissed your cheek, smiling against your skin.

“And you’re the reason it all feels worth it.”

Your little boy wriggled in your arms, eyes fluttering closed as he drifted off to sleep.

The room softened around you.

Everything was warm. Quiet. Perfect.

Your family had just grown again — and you wouldn’t change a single part of it