“Harry I said don’t record this,” you panted, balling your hands into fists trying to control the pain. You were hours away from delivering your new baby girl, and Harry insisted on recording everything.

“Don’t you want to remember this forever?” he replied, smiling at you from behind the camera.

“Not looking like this,” you screeched, feeling another contraction pass. “I don’t know why you insist on recording this.”

He walks over to you and takes your hand in his. “I want us to remember the joys of giving birth. This is a monumental occasion,” he explained, brushing your hair away from your face.

“Are you crazy? Have you been smoking something?” You snapped, groaning in pain. “I’m in the worse pain of my life, and you’re over her talking about this is a joyful occasion.” 

“Oh damn, I wasn’t recording,” he gasped, holding his camera up again. “Can you say that again? And this time say it like you mean it.”

You rolled your eyes, collapsing into the bed. “This is going to be a long few hours,” you sighed, shaking your head.

“What? I didn’t get that,” He smiled. “Can you say it again?”

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