[Patrick]
They wheeled Angela into the delivering room. Not knowing what to do, I paced outside the door. I watched as they stripped off her clothes and put a blue hospital gown on her. I wiped my sweating palms on my trousers as her face scrunched up in pain as yet another contraction hit.
She lay on the bed, her body heaving, her face sweating a whole ocean. I sat on the bench outside, head in my hands. Damn, what do I do. The fear I felt was stronger than the time I waited for Angela after her accident. This was awful.
Suddenly the doors sprang open and a nurse with a clipboard marched out. Her tag read "Alotte Gibson" on her hospital scrub. "Ms. Gibson,"I gasped. "How is she?" She gave me her professional smile and laid a hand on my arm. "She's doing fine, but she wants you to go in with her. Please, sir, put these on. For hygiene purposes," she replied. I quickly slipped on the hospital gown she handed me.
She led me into the room. I rushed to Angela's side. Her face was something I would never, could never, forget. Unable to imagine the pain she was in, I could only grasp her hard hands and will the pain to go away.