That Pivotal Moment

Epilogue

Epilogue written by BitchIsMyReligion

The hospital was bustling with the shouts of code names and squeaking of scuffling feet.

Everywhere I looked, doctors and nurses were running in and out of rooms hauling medical equipment behind them. Every now and then, the double doors of the fifth floor in the Labor and Delivery section would burst open, and a new, screaming mother was wheeled in- on a stretcher or in a wheelchair.

More often than not, they were succeeded by nervous fathers to be who entered the waiting room looking like they were seconds away from spontaneously combusting. One man in particular came in looking like a nervous wreck. He was wearing his t-shirt inside out, his sweats were wrinkled and stained, his hair was a mess, and he wouldn't stop pacing.

I rubbed my temple, looking for the nearest distraction because his nervousness was starting to grate my nerves. In fact, if I was being honest, it was starting to rub off on me as well.

Grunting softly, I reach for my phone tucked into my back pocket. I surf my instagram feed, my twitter feed, and my Facebook- but nothing seems to divert my attention away from the man for longer than a few minutes. Giving up, I put my phone away and search for the next distraction.

I spot something on the small table next to me and turn to pick it up. It's a glossy magazine with a woman in a red bikini on the front cover.

Smirking to myself, I skim through the pages and read one or two paragraphs at a time while waiting for the man to sit down and stop his jiggling. I grin slyly as I admire the various women gracing the catalog in skimpy outfits and barely-there swimsuits. Just as I'm about to get to the hottest model, a tapping sound makes me look up.

I frown.

The nervous man is now tapping a pencil on the edges of the table in front of us. He senses my irritated stare and shrinks into his seat.

"Sorry," he says quietly, setting down the pencil and proceeding to bite his fingernails. I raise my brows.

"First time?" I ask curiously, picking up the magazine again. The man exhales with a small laugh.

"Yes. Is it that obvious?"

I snort, putting aside the magazine in my hands.

"Obvious would be an understatement."

The man cracks his knuckles, proceeding to run a hand through his dark, disheveled hair. He looks at me with bloodshot eyes.

"For the past few days, it's been false alarm after false alarm with my wife. Her contractions increased over the past week, so we've been coming here every two days only to be sent back home. I'm exhausted, I haven't gotten much sleep, and work has been keeping me stressed."

I nod, zoning in and out of his story. He looks at me for confirmation.

"Oh yeah. Having a new kid is tough," I say vaguely, picking up the magazine again. An awkward silence ensues as I try my best to drown out his nervous antics.

"Is this your first time too?" he asks tentatively, making me look up from a model posing on a black sports car. I shake my head.

"I've had a few pregnancy scares with some ex girlfriends as well-" I start, cutting myself off when I notice the expression on his face. I wince.

"Not that children aren't a blessing," I correct myself, grateful I'm not in his shoes, "But no, this is not my first time in a waiting room."

He looks confused for a moment, before he speaks up again.