This one was bad, far worse than the last.
Her scream pounded the walls. 'Please stop this!' she prayed – even though she wasn't religious.
It did, but not from some deity; her body subsided and delivered.
At 6 o'clock in the morning, I was born.
I opened my eyes and saw the bright lights. Most babies cry as soon as they're born, but I looked around the room – inspecting. After acknowledging my surroundings, I started to cry. To howl.
"She's got a nice pair o' lungs on her!" the midwife laughed.
"Come here!" she exclaimed, picking me up. I was so soft and slimy.
"Here, I'll just put this towel on her, keep her warm,"
After I was separated from my mother, my father walked into the room.
"Let me see then."
He placed his hand on the top of my head and kissed my forehead. I opened my eyes and stared at my father's moustache and lifted up my hand, which he took in his.
"My little girl, our little Alba."