She Gave Birth Alone but Moments Later the Doctor Saw Something That Made Him Break Down

The first time, she had packed a novel she knew she would never read and a candle she knew the hospital would never allow. She had stood in the middle of her room looking at those foolish objects and understanding that she wanted comfort rather than practicality.

She wanted a version of herself who was still capable of expecting to be soothed by someone else. She wanted a day where someone would have told her not to worry because they had already thought of everything.

She had taken the candle out first and then the book. In their place, she packed extra socks, a phone charger, lip balm, a granola bar, and an old photograph she had once taken from her window.

It was not a picture of a person but rather a shot of the late afternoon light spilling across a parking lot. She did not know why she packed it, but perhaps it proved there had once been an ordinary day she had not yet lost.