My Husband Gave His Couch in the Delivery Room to My MIL and Went on a Boys’ Trip Instead – He Got a Lesson He’ll Never Forget

She held a cold washcloth to my forehead when I felt like I was burning up. She didn’t leave my side once, not even to get coffee.

Every time I cried (and I cried a lot), she wiped my tears and whispered, “You’re doing beautifully. I’m so proud of you.”

When they finally told me it was time to push, Janet moved to stand beside me, gripping my hand so tightly I could feel her wedding ring digging into my palm.

“You’ve got this,” she said.

“My grandson’s almost here.”

And then he was born. Tiny and pink and screaming, his little fists waving in the air like he was already fighting the world. The nurse placed him on my chest, and I started sobbing so badly I could barely see him through my tears.

Janet was crying too, her hand on my shoulder.

“He’s perfect, Cindy. He’s absolutely perfect.”

I looked down at my son and felt an overwhelming wave of love so fierce it almost scared me. And right behind it came the anger.

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