The pacing back and forth didn’t help the time passing either.
Just waiting for the inevitable was almost cruel. To both him and everyone else in the room. But this was how it was supposed to be. They had at least prepared for this moment. They knew it was coming. This was the day. The time – what ever the time currently is – wasn’t, however. But again, this is how it was supposed to be.
The sweat on his forehead was glistening in the cold, impersonal lights in the room.
‘All I can do is pace. Just keep fucking pacing.’ Anticipation was high. Time – time, it didn’t matter what time it was, it was getting close now.
He watched people running in and out of the room, as if it was a revolving door. Or a conveyer belt. Cuddly toy!
‘It takes however long it takes. Just enjoy every moment. Even the pacing. Even the fucking pacing. Fuck.’
The door revolves once more.
‘I hope you’re not going to swear like that much more, Dean,’ Samantha says as she’s wheeled out, cradling her newborn. Their newborn. ‘I mean… fuck. I’ve got no clue either.’
Dean lets out a laugh – of relief. And with immediate love setting on his baby girl in his wife’s arms.
The nurse pushing his family, says, ‘Congratulations dad. Your daughter was born 17:13.’
Starting to write again. 10 minutes at a time, thanks to this daily prompt link