The baby’s heartbeat remained strong, and the team was ready to examine the child as soon as they arrived.
I listened, asked what I needed to know, and then looked at Alexander.
“Stay,” I said.
He came to my side, careful with every movement, and placed his hand where I could reach it.
When the hardest hours came, he did not tell me to be brave or promise that nothing could go wrong.
He stayed quiet when I needed quiet, and answered when I asked him for water or for the nurse.
Once, when I gripped his hand, he held on without asking me to look at him.
By late afternoon, the room had turned gold with the lowering sun.
Then, after one last effort, our child was born.
A small, indignant cry rose into the room, and every breath I had been holding seemed to leave me at
