She sits, perched on the edge of a narrow bed, her arms clutching a pillow at her midsection. A stranger in a shapeless green uniform and disposable mask stands before her, stretches out his arms and clasps her shoulders. The silent action is a cue for her to lean into his hands, to steady and brace herself for what is to come. She briefly makes eye contact and her fear must be evident - even with just his eyes visible, she sees the small, empathetic smile he gives, as if to say there’s no reason to fear. 

Her mind begins to race as she feels her back is now exposed to the cold air; she grips the pillow tighter, she squeezes her eyes shut. Her eyes remain tightly closed in an attempt to keep the tears she feels building at bay - tears of excitement, and most certainly, also fear. Of the known and unknown, the remembered and forgotten.

She can hear activity around her increasing as more people enter the room. They introduce themselves but her adrenaline prevents her from retaining that information. She hears a man, sitting behind her, narrating the steps that will be taken before inserting a needle into her exposed back; before she loses sensation and movement in the lower half of her body, before she experiences further vulnerability in this cold, sterile room.

Laying down on the narrow bed, a disposable curtain now obstructs her view, her arms spread wide to either side, while cords connected to numerous monitors are adhered to her body, she feels the bed tip and tilt beneath her and the noise increases. She wonders if they notice how fast her heart is beating, how it increases as her helplessness grows and she lays there overwhelmed and alone.

Automatic doors hiss open and shut, disrupting her thoughts. She turns her face to see a familiar set of eyes looking down at her. He smiles at her and she conjures up every ounce of bravery she has for him, for what is yet to come, while at the same time fighting back the tears she refused to let fall earlier. He holds her hand and she squeezes it, as if that touch could transfer some of the fear she feels in her body to him. He sees the tears she tries to hide, squeezes her hand back and tells her it will be ok. She focuses on the feeling of her hand in his and the feeling of safety she experiences in his presence, instead of both the subtle and aggressive movement she feels and the sounds of metal instruments being used on the other side of the blue curtain. She squeezes her eyes shut once more, praying again for strength, protection and health - ‘Help me be brave, and keep us safe.’

There is pressure, and then there is not.

There was silence, and then the first cry was heard.

Her tears fall freely - they are about to meet their baby. Their unexpected gift.