Epilogue

Epilogue

Alice

I sit in a kiddy of my blood and waiting, praying for this all to be over. My stomach is so large that I can't even see my own toes if I stand up. I turn around, now on all fours. Water swishes around, birth juice, and whatever the hell else that fell out of me encircles the pool.

This hurts way more than I could have imagined. "This was a stupid fucking idea!" I screech at Alessio. "A fucking home birth? Why would you let me do this!" I yell out. "I fucking hate this so damn much!"

"Mrs.Russo, it's time for you to push now." My midwife tells me. One video and a few illogical impulses, and I'm in a fucking kiddy pool in my room pushing out a person. "I want you to hold you to breathe and-"

I let out a scream, pushing down. "Good, Ms.Alice," my doula coos. "You are a strong woman. Repeat it with me."

"I am a strong woman," we say together as I push again.

"You are a strong woman," Alessio says with us, making my eyebrow twitch. "You are a-"

"Shut the fuck up!" I screech out, pushing again. "You did this!"

Alessio only chuckles and looks down at what I can feel is the head fighting to come out. If there is a God who is finally on my side, please let this be over.

"One more push!" The nurse says.

"One big push!" I hold onto Alessio's hand so tightly, it turns white, and I let out a groan so loud that the neighborhood probably heard, and then I feel it...her, come out of me.

I look down at my baby girl in the water for a second. Ten fingers and ten toes, with dark brown hair covering her entire head, with a face almost identical to the one I saw before. I pull her out of the water with her umbilical cord still attached to me, and I hold her to my chest with Alessio's large arm on her back.

I close my eyes, refusing to open them as the memories fall back in line one by one, and tears coat my cheeks at my once again quiet daughter.

And she does it, like magic- my daughter, Arianna Russo, screams.

~

"Go, Aria!" I shout out with Arianna holding my hand. Aria runs down the field, kicking her soccer ball further and further down the field.

"Aria!" Arianna shouts in her sixteen-month capacity in her little Russo jersey with an ice cream pop in her other hand. Sixteen months of my little bundle of joy which looks more and more like me as the days go on with her hints of Alessio fighting to be brought out in a perfect little bundle of love.

Aria rushes down the field. All the other girls can't catch up with the goddess of soccer, Aria.

"That's it! That's my goddamn daughter!" Alessio shouts at the player's side with our other three-month-year-old daughter, his twin. My mother calls her strapped to his chest without a care in the world with her noise-canceling headphones on as he runs down the field with Aria keeping a protective hand over our baby Andrea's back.

I stare at the display, looking at my daughter Aria, running down the field, people shouting her name. Then to my second daughter Arianna cheering for her sister with a sparkle in her eyes that I would kill someone forever trying to take away. Then to my youngest, so at peace with her father that I could cry. Then I smile at my husband, the cool, calm, collected man whose life had been so hard then.

I smile at this happily ever after.

"Aria Russo has scored her fifth goal this game! She is on fire!" The announcer says, and I scream for joy.

"Yes! Go, Aria!" Alessio screams. "Keep it up!"

This joy, this moment when everything is right, just perfect, makes all the imperfects worth it.

I lost so much. I cried so much and went through so much, and I finally found it.

My happiness.

I claimed it.

And I will never ever let it go.

AND THAT IS IT GUYS! FUCK MAN! IT NEVER GETS EASIER...FUCK I AM CRYING SO HARD RIGHT NOW!

LIKE ALESSIO! ARIA! ALICE! AND THEIR TWO LITTLE GIRLS...ARIANNA AND ANDREA!!!

AND ALICE FINALLY HAS EVERYTHING SHE WANTED AFTER SO MUCH SHIT!!! GOD!!! I-

Okay...I'm done. I have to stop or I could go on all night.

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