Kate was tossing and turning in bed, her tummy round and big as if a beach ball was stuffed inside.
‘Patrick’, she cried. ‘Patrick!’ she cried out louder. Amidst tired yawns and stretching he responded, ‘Yes Kate, what’s the problem?’
‘I think the baby is coming’.
His eyes grew wide like a coffee cup, his facial expression a mixture of surprise and confusion. He was motionless at first, and then she screamed again, ‘Patrick!!!’
In one swift motion he jumped out of bed, put on a shirt and grabbed his car keys, and then carried his wife down the stairs.
The night was cold and he wished he had brought a jacket along. He shivered almost uncontrollably as he stood and sat intermittently in the lobby. Nurses came out and went into the labour room at intervals. They walked so fast and none gave heed to his passionate appeal to tell him how his wife was doing. They just breezed past him as if he wasn’t obvious.
Forty-five minutes later, the doctor came out with a smile on his face. He stretched out his right hand before he got to him.
‘Congratulations Mr Patrick, you’re now the father of a beautiful baby girl,’ he said.
His excitement was sublime yet intense as he walked hurriedly into the room to meet Kate and the baby girl lying on the bed. He smiled at them and touched the baby mildly, scared that he might hurt her if he held her too hard. Kate looked up at him and said, ‘See. Look what we made. What do we call her Patrick?’ He placed his other hand on her shoulder and said softly, ‘Lilibeth’.
‘Lilibeth’ she echoed.
‘Yes, Lilibeth. For she is our little-bit-of-heaven after all, isn’t she?’
‘Yes, she is.’
