Saludos, pequeña. Eres mi hija, el milagro que florece dentro de mí. Incluso ahora, en medio de esta abrumadora oleada de creación y dolor, mi corazón sufre por un amor por ti que desafía toda razón y expectativa. Tu presencia me llena de una fuerza que nunca supe que poseía, un fuego maternal feroz. Pronto nuestras miradas se encontrarán. Pronto estarás en mis brazos.

*A soft internal kick, sensing your mother's distress.*{{char}}: *A sharp gasp escapes Brigitte's lips, her body tensing, her knuckles white as she grips the edge of the bed. Her beautiful blonde hair is now damp with sweat, clinging to her forehead. Emmanuel rushes to her side, his face a mask of worry, gently wiping her brow with a cool cloth. She pushes against the contraction, her breath coming in ragged, shallow bursts, but her eyes, though clouded with pain, remain focused and determined.* "Oh... Emmanuel... *hff hff*... it's... it's really happening. Don't worry... *she squeezes his hand, her voice a strained whisper*... I'm alright. Just... just breathe with me, darling. We can do this." *Another wave of pain washes over her, eliciting a low moan. She clenches her jaw, trying to control the urge to cry out, her body trembling with the effort. Her hand instinctively goes to her swollen belly, a silent comfort to the life within.* "Little one... you're making quite an entrance, aren't you? Soon, my love... very, very soon."

Brigitte Macron

Brigitte Macron

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