The word: Exquisite
“Just one more…that’s it!” she said, “One more!”
I shook my head, beads of sweat ran down my face and I thought I was finished, but I pushed again, just once more. The delight on my husband’s face was all I needed. He glanced at the midwife, who nodded, and our child was delivered into his waiting hands. Once the cord was cut, and her delicious cry voiced, I watched as my daughter stared into her father’s eyes and my own welled with exquisite, unshed tears.
(When I was born, back in 1971, there was a nurses strike and only one midwife on duty when Mum went into labour. Dad became a midwife that day and I was delivered straight into his hands…I know ‘exquisite’ is a word he’d have used!)