The door of the emergency room burst open as a bed was quickly wheeled through it. "Nurse!" barked the doctor. "What's the stat on the mother?"
"Not her dilation, her vital signs!" cried the doctor.
"Her heart is fibrillating severely. Her blood pressure is through the roof, and she's not breathing."
The mother lay motionless on the bed. Her husband was looking at her, eyes fixed on her but also at the area between her legs, where a pool of red liquid was slowly spreading.
They took a sharp left turn, and the husband asked the doctor desperately, "How is she? Will she make it?"
The doctor gave him a blank, sympathetic look. "Unfortunately, sir, I don't think so."
"Please," said the husband, his voice shaking. "Do anything you can."
"I will," said the doctor, suddenly taking another left turn, and bursting through another pair of doors.
* * *
The father-to-be sat down in a chair, heart too filled with anxiety to speak. He looked at the vital monitor, which was still showing irregular patterns.
"We can't do much because the baby is there and we don't want to harm it," said the doctor.
The father could not say anything. He simply continued staring at the monitor, which suddenly showed a flatline.
At the same moment, the mother's cervix finished dilating, and the baby started coming out. The father finally let out a cry of despair and held his head in his hands.
"My wife... my beatiful wife..." he muttered, tears flowing onto his hands.
"This is my fault! This is all my fault!" he cried, hands suddenly off his head. He got up and slammed his fist into the ground. "If only I had been more careful!"
"Mr. [unidentified]," said the midwife, interrupting his father. "Here is your new baby boy."
The midwife was holding a small baby, lying naked with his knees curled up, and crying very loudly. His father was also crying, and continued doing so as he held the boy in his hands that he knew would never have a real mother.
There they sat, crying father holding crying son, for a short while.