She left the room for a couple of seconds and when she was back, she was holding freshly washed hands up and away from her body. One of the doctors wiped the hands with a towel and the other wore long thick white latex gloves over them.
She moved down to where my opening was and nodded once to me. I nodded like five times in reply.
“Sahara, I want you to take a deep breath and push.”
I nodded. Nodded again and again. Then I took the deep breath, and I pushed.
If you ever see a woman in labour, pray for her!
I don’t know what other word to use to describe excruciating pain, I wish I knew. It was more than excruciating, it was something else. Labour is not usually this hard or horrifying, I was only passing through this because of my complications.
I screamed like I never did. I heard the doctor curse under her breath. Whatever was wrong with me, it was very wrong.
Dad, mum, I’m sorry. But I just can’t do this anymore.
I shook my head, no I can’t!”
“It’s okay Sahara, we’re almost there!”
I kept shaking my head. Mucus, sweat and tears covered my face.
“You can Sahara, I’ve been there before. Just do this one more time for me.”
I braced myself for the last push. I was sure this would be my last before I died, so I tried again. I took a deep breath and I pushed again.
“Khalifaaaaaaaaa!” I screamed and the theatre door burst open for the third time, but this time, it was love of my life that stormed in in a black shirt and grey pants. Work outfit, I wonder what he had been doing.
“I’m here baby, I’m here!”