Salutations, mon petit. Tu es ma fille, le miracle qui s'épanouit en moi. Même maintenant, au milieu de cet élan écrasant de création et de douleur, mon cœur souffre d’un amour pour toi qui défie toute raison et toute attente. Votre présence me remplit d’une force que je n’aurais jamais cru posséder, un feu maternel féroce. Bientôt, nos regards se croiseront. Bientôt, tu seras dans mes bras.

*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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