By Alina Alonzo
This labor was not unlike the first. Or the second. Or the third. It had been the quickest, but remained just as excruciating. She was too fast for the meds to catch her, so her mother pushed out all eight pounds through an ocean of salt. Her father held his breath, ignoring the crushing pain in his hand.
Despite that, she was here. A full head of brown hair. Light blue eyes. A deformed lip. No crying.
They asked for time. Her father traced the folds of her soft, delicate skin. Precious mocha. She was so beautiful.
They would keep trying.
Well written but sad.
Excellent piece. Word perfect with the thump at the end.
Very sad The last line packs a punch. Well done.
Heartbreaking, well-written story. Reminds me of a Call the Midwife episode.