Robert POVThe night my child was born happened in heartbeats. The first beat, I was at home. Dalia and I had a fight, even though I knew we shouldn’t have. She was important to me, but my child’s safety was at stake. We both knew it was just weeks of frustration and worry building up and overflowing. Tomorrow I would go back and we would make up again, and I would sit through another day of complaints and silence. I was reading Clara a new book. Dalia had reread the same ones to her a million times, so in her absence I decided to outshine her and buy the young girl some new ones. Tonight she wanted to hear about farm animals going on an adventure, even though she had already heard it last night. I wasn’t in the mood for another argument, so we got to reading. 

“Drive slowly.” Robert warned him. “Or face her wrath.” The driver smiled politely at the joke, probably not realizing how much truth there was in it and that it wasn’t a joke whatsoever. The baby and I were finally both cleared to go home, but that did not mean that I was feeling fine and dandy again. I had a big c-section scar on my lower stomach, one that would surely turn into an ugly scar later on. The doctors had encouraged walking and moving around far quicker than I really wanted to. I could walk out of the hospital myself, but at a slow pace.  After placing the baby carrier in the car, Robert helped me sit down. I felt like I was eighty years old with how much help I needed with everything, but Robert never once complained about it. I must have really scared him with the whole ‘my heart stopped beating’ moment in the operation room. He was never