"Yes, we have confirmed. Mrs. Margaret Curtis is indeed pregnant," the doctor announced.

Margaret Donna and Darrell Isaac Curtis looked at one another in great awe.

"I prescribe rest and lots of hearty meals," the medic said and smiled.

Mrs. Margaret and Mr. Darrell both departed the office like they were flying to Cloud 12.

4 months later, but 3 months prior to the due date

"It's so active. With that level of activity inside I'm thinking it's a boy, a Darrell, like you," said Margaret dreamily as the two each sat on rocking chairs at their little run-down but they tried to keep it neat house.

"Oh," responded Darrell thoughtfully, "but your name fits you so well, you have been a special pearl in my life," and he just as sentimentally placed his hand on hers ( wiki/Margaret ).

"But then if there were 2 Margarets, everyone would be puzzled over who was who," answered Margaret more pragmatically this time as she sat up straighter in her chair. "It would be more suitable to call her Meg, like in Little Women, or Megan perhaps."

"Or Donna, like your middle name," Darrell grinned at her.

3 More Months After That

Mrs. Margaret was performing as usual at one of her grimy, demanding low-pay cleaning jobs at a slum-dump motel. Suddenly, as she was scrubbing the floor, a sharp pain pierced through her abdomen. Gasping, she dropped the pail and sent water all over the floor...

Mr. Darrell and his construction crew co-workers were doing their typical backbreaking, lousy pay work when one of the men came out with The Announcement as he'd just received The Call for Mr. Darrell: "Your wife's in labor!"

Margaret: Searing p

ain. Rivers of sweat down her body and coagulating in her hair. Blood and bad odor filled the place. Nurses in the sterile hospital room, coaching and trying to reassure, guiding her to push.

Darrell: Spinning in the car through the streets. Each red light took what might as well have been a light year to change to green. Just when he thought he'd never get there, the hospital was on the horizon. A screech and a jerk, a lopsided park of the automobile into the spot, then charging in.

Margaret: The hospital gown stuck to her body like rubber cement. A whiz through the hall in the clatter of wheels.

Delivery room!

A head with sticky red liquid and a bit of light brown hair showed through the mirror!

A final contraction, a collapse against the pillow and the baby was out!

Physician in a starchy coat held up a loud, soprano shrieking bundle of wrath, a tiny handsome baby boy, who already looked so much like Mr. Darrell.

Darrell: He moved about, wearing a crater in the floor, when all at once, a teeny, yelling little being in a baby blue blanket was brought out to him to hold. So surreal, Mr. Darrell wanted to cheer and cry simultaneously.

The next day: Baby Darry in his blue blanket, with a matching sky blue teddy bear, lay snuggled asleep next to his mother's body. Mrs. Margaret smiled and stroked the soft fuzz, incredulously joyful at the gift that had just been bestowed upon her and Mr. Darrell. To Mr. Darrell, the pair looked like a happy angel who had just delivered a precious cherub.

"How beautiful you both look," he spoke in hushed awe as she continued to beam reverently on her husband and especially on their newborn son.

"He already looks like you, we have to name him for you," she said in response.

"We must also think of a middle name, I praise God to the Heavens for bringing you both into my life."

"As The Lord has been so good to us, how about Shaynne, for "God is gracious," ( . )

"Shaynne, Darrell Shaynne," The baby briefly opened his eyes to look at his dad, then drifted back off.

Mrs. Margaret and Mr. Darrell rejoiced together.