Sorry for not updating for such a long time! Here it is.

[Patrick]

I received the call from the hospital an hour after I reached my office. My mind went numb and I acted on instinct, driving to the hospital and demanding to see Angela.

I had to wait. Oh gosh, how I hated waiting. I wondered if the baby was okay. I wondered if Angela was okay. Cold sweat dripped down my back as I buried my head in my hands. I had no idea how much time passed.

I was an atheist. I had never been one to believe in God. People said God created us, but I think we created Him. It was our thoughts and beliefs that created such a person up in Heaven which we ultimately called "God". Today was an exception. I prayed and prayed until the doctor came out and told me I could go in.

I squeezed my eyes shut, hoping against hope that they were alright. I entered the room and drew back the ugly green curtains surrounding Angela's bed. Her huge blue eyes stared at me as I lowered myself cautiously into the hard plastic chair. I gripped her hand tightly. She flinched, her hand flying instinctively to her tummy. "How is she?" I whispered, almost scared of her answer. Her chapped lips curved into a weak smile, her answer coming out as a relieved breath. "Yes."

"Praise the Lord," my voice shook as I grabbed Angela in my arms. Her body shook as sobbed wracked her frame. I patted her back gently. I could not imagine how much did she go through hours ago. The fear she must have felt. But now, she was okay. Our baby was okay. Everything was going to be okay.

And in that moment, an image of God took place in my mind. I saw Him with my mind's eye. A grandfatherly figure, with a long white beard and a bald head. A wrinkled smile etched across his face as he reached out a hand to me. Gratitude welled up against my chest and I sent silent thanks to Him.

Thank you. Thank you so much.

And then he was gone. Opening my eyes, I found Angela asleep with her head resting on my shoulder. I shifted her gently, afraid to open any wounds or wake her from her rest. Her hand gripped my arm suddenly and she started murmuring. I leaned in, and heard, "Don't go... No... No, Patrick, is our baby okay... Okay..." It broke my heart to see how much she suffered. It must be the pregnancy thing, her being so emotional. She had always been a strong girl before. We came from carnivals. Hard lives. But we got through it. I knew she was a strong girl.

She can do this.

We can do this.