The Kind of Love We Make - Luke Combs

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It's three in the morning when you feel searing pain shoot through your body. You jerk up into a sitting position and wince loudly, your hand flying to your belly.

"Babe? You okay?" Your husband asks in a groggy voice, blinding reaching out for you, stopping when his hand touches your back. "What is it?"

You shake your head as the pain dies down and you relax against the bed. Your husband rests his hand on your baby bump when you lay back down. "It's probably just gas." You mumble, shutting your eyes.

You grit your teeth when that pain come roaring back and its almost twice as painful.

Your husband sits up when you do, fully awake now.

Something isn't right.

"Oh shit." You gasp when realization hits you. "The baby's coming."

He leaps out of bed and quickly gets dressed before helping you to your feet to get you in shorts and one of his flannels paired with a baggy t-shirt. "You ready?"

"No." You shake your head, gripping his hand tightly, keeping your feet planted where you are. "I- I can't."

"Hey." He says softly when he sees the fear on your face and tears in your eyes. "Hey, it's gonna be okay. I know you're scared- I'm terrified." He chuckles. "But I know that this baby is coming so let's have it at the hospital, yeah?"

You wipe a few tears away as you take his hand again, your pillow in the other then follow him down to his truck to have your first baby,

a boy.

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