I shift slightly and take in the smell, the sounds and the lighting that at once confirm my suspicions of being in a hospital. I immediately feel nauseous. I struggle to open my eyes and turn my face towards the widow in my room. The first thought: am I in Germany? The second: am I ok? The answer to both I realize is no.

I struggle to move my arm and rub my stomach. MY STOMACH! An instinctual protective trait kicks in as I suddenly remember my baby. I am suddenly able to not only open my eyes, which up to this point had been a real struggle, but I quickly glance in panic around the room, moving my neck in ways two seconds ago I would've told you were impossible.That is when I see him. My heart feels like a thousand weights have been lifted and my body, which feels like it has been hit with a train, suddenly feels as if it could fly.

My tears began to flow freely as I watch Josh Lyman dance and sing and hold close a baby that I can only assume is ours. He is in the corner of the room cooing softly to my little girl swaddled in her pink blanket and wearing the free hat that is standard issue to all newborns. He sways back and forth and rocks her in his arms. I feel as though he must know, I feel like our family is beginning…

that must have been the drugs talking.

No sooner had I found my voice to speak and wasp Josh's name across the room did I witness his shoulders square and stiffen, his soft coos cease and a chill fill the room.

"Donna." He said with hurt and betrayal and anger evident in his soft but harsh voice.

"Your daughter is going to be fine".

Josh delivered that happy news with an unveiled bitterness.

"Ava" I heard myself responding. "Her name is Ava".

Instantly Josh's eyes filled with tears and he quickly approached the bed to place my baby girl at my side. He laid her on my chest and brining his hand to his eyes as his own chest heaved he choked out: "I hope you two are very happy."

The tears I had begun to cry continued to flow freely. Feeling like I couldn't possibly be alive because DEATH couldn't feel this bad I sat stunned in the hospital bed and watched as Josh turned, grabbed a coat from a chair and head towards the door.

"Josh?" I questioned with a shock that couldn't have been more evident if I had tried,

"Don't you have anything to say about this? Don't you feel anything at all?" I ask the questions evenly. I can't even believe I am coherent.

"What am I supposed to say, Donna?" He is immediately shouting, "What would you have me to say? I get a call in the middle of my evening from this voice telling me that Donna Moss, who lives in Virginia, has gone into labor while carrying boxes at her library job. She is in route to the hospital and would I give authorization for an emergency c-section and do I have any idea if she has allergies?"

His voice went up even higher at the end. I sit silently taking in the warmth from the beautiful baby at my side. I have pushed my hand through her blanket to feel all ten toes, counted all ten fingers and already recognize a dimple in her pale, alabaster skin. I feel as though I am floating above the room, I realize that I am completly removed from the most serial moment of my life.

I know it is not the drugs now, just shear, raw emotion.

"I almost hung up." Josh says hatefully. "I almost told the voice thatI didn't know that woman and the truth is I don't."

I listen knowing that I deserve everything he is saying. I listen wishing that I hadn't put this off, wishing that I hadn't left his room that morning, wishing so many things but mostly wondering if he knows. He gives no indication one way or the other. He just paces back in forth enraged and pulling his hand through his hair. I continue my exploration of this beautiful baby and stare with a sincere bewilderment at Josh Lyman.

"How dare you Donna." He spit. "How dare you leave me as your emergency contact, how dare you have an emergency!"

At that final shout he awoke our sleeping daughter. Above her screaming he stated matter-of-factly: "They were worried about her lungs but apparently they are doing just fine."

In the midst of his statement two nurses were throwing open the door to my private room and descending upon me like a tag team.

"We told you to call us as soon as she wakes" the chubbier one barked at Josh.

"I am sorry I got distracted" Josh was paralyzed watching the frenzy of nurse arms and legs moving at surprisingly quick speeds around my tiny room.

"Well, lil' missy" I think one of them is speaking to me, "You gave us quite a scare, but your little one here is quite a trooper and she pulled through like a champ."

"You mean WE pulled her through like a champ!" The other one jokes and the pained look on Josh's face as his eyes trace my numb stomach cause my hand to immediately move towards the bandages I am now aware of on my skin. It hadn't registered before but he said c-section. As I thought about it now I definitely didn't recall the counting or the pushing or any of the breathing and I realized that the last thing I remembered was the paramedics loading me into their ambulance and pulling out my cell phone to look for an emergency contact.

ICE- Josh Lyman, speed dial one.

I was trying desperately to remember anything more, trying to get rid of the nausea that was sweeping over me in waves and trying to grasp tightly to the warm bundle in my arms. The nurse was wrangling Ava away from me and Josh was watching with a very distant expression on his face. I started to get a little hysterical, asking "why are they taking my baby?" and "why are my legs so numb?" This moment can only be described as sheer terror. I felt like Josh was moving farther away even though he was standing right at the foot of my bed. I began to cry out for my baby. The nurses put something in my IV and as I immediately fell limp, I heard them turn to Josh and say: "She really shouldn't be alone."

"Ok." He answered with resolve and the final words I could hear as the nurses filled out were his in a soft and pleading tone: "Can you bring me back her daughter?"