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There she was, up on that bed pushing and pushing just as they__ practiced. She was dilated and the tension had been building to this moment all day. He had never been so glad to be a writer. It meant that he could be here and he could be at home, helping her as much as he liked after the baby was born. Wendy was sweating and bleary-eyed, focusing so very hard on the movement of her baby down the birth canal that it took her a moment to hear what anyone said to her. The pain was clearly unimaginable and he wished he could have taken some of it from her, but she__ insisted on a natural birth and that__ just what she was doing.__re you okay, Babe?_ She__ grown extra quiet in the last few moments, tension lines growing deeper in her face, her hands clawing at the bed rails as she pushed. She was trying so hard to endure and to get through that he had to ask again. __re you okay?__he looked at him from the bed with all the nurses and the doctor flitting about the room watching her vital signs, monitoring the baby__ heart rate and her own and of course, guiding the course of the birth itself. She said something he barely heard. __o, no something is__nd then they all knew.