THE PRESSURE and pain merged, stirring in her womb, creating a melee of agony that she’d never encountered in her entire life and wasn’t sure she’d survive. Mia reached for the hospital bed rail to grasp it tight. The coldness from the metal hit her nerve endings and streams of hot sweat and lukewarm, salty tears raced down her face. “Ahhhh!” She huffed, but nothing was helping. “Lamaze ain’t shit! Make it stop!”“Mia!” Aaron called out as he turned her towards him, tried to make her focus on his eyes with the touch of a gentle hand along her chin. “You’re doin’ real good, baby; he’s almost out.” Her abdomen burned, and she now regretted forgoing the epidural, being a brave heart. Aaron Jr. was bursting into the world in a way she’d never forget. The infant was making an appearance a week early, impatient and demanding like his father, and giving her the kind of contractions earlier that morning that shook her out of a fairly sound sleep. Since then, they had not ceased, only increased in frequency and intensity.“Ahhhh!
