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Sara looked pale when Simon rushed into the hospital room. He hastily threw his backpack on the nearest chair and went right to her side.
“I’m sorry it took me so long, the bus was delayed because of the parade,” he panted. “How are you?”
“I need to get this fucking baby out of me, is how I am,” she exhaled sharply, wincing as another contraction hit. Simon squeezed her hand and circled the bed to hug Linda.
“She’s certainly been a trooper. She even took the train from work to the hospital! Can you imagine?” Linda looked at her daughter with awe in her eyes.
“I’m guessing Lukas is on his way?” Simon asked.
“No, Simon, Lukas is not coming to witness the birth of his first child.” Simon rolled his eyes internally, but he was happy to bear the brunt of Sara’s pain if it meant getting them all through this.
He had just been at the Labor Day parade with Ayub when he got the call. They had been getting signatures for a petition to increase the budget for Swedish language tutors in public schools, and things had been going really well. The moment he got the news, he rushed to the nearest bus stop and high-tailed it to the hospital. It wasn’t Sara’s first choice, or even second choice; she had a doula and a whole plan, but apparently when your water breaks over a week early, the best laid plans go flying out the window.
There were three sharp knocks on the door, and two people dressed in blue scrubs walked in. “Sara Eriksson?” A middle aged woman greeted, walking over to the hospital bed. “My name is Katya, and this is Wilhelm. I’m your nurse midwife, and I'll be delivering your baby. Wilhelm here is your assigned pediatric nurse. His job is to monitor your and the baby’s vitals, and make sure everyone is healthy. Things are looking great so far,” she smiled. Sara looked skeptical, but nevertheless she nodded at them in greeting.
The male nurse paced right towards Simon. “Sorry, if you don’t mind, I have to be here next to the screen.” He half-smiled at Simon, and he thought Wilhelm had quite a nice face. He wondered how common it was for male nurses to work in labor and delivery, and immediately chastised himself. Of course there were male nurses in every specialty.
Brushing past Simon, Wilhelm looked down at his jean jacket. “I like your pins.” He smiled again, and for the briefest moment Simon swore he saw something flash in his eyes. Wilhelm was looking right at his enamel pride flag. One of Simon’s students had given it to him his first year teaching, and to this day it was one of his most prized possessions.
“Thanks. Labor Day, you know.” Simon turned to show Wille his panel of other buttons.
“Nice,” Wille nodded. “I’ve always wanted to go.”
“You’ve never been? Is the medical profession void of any social causes to fight for?” He questioned teasingly.
“The medical profession doesn’t get national holidays. Babies get born every day of the year, you know.” He looked at Simon with matched sarcasm, and Simon’s stomach flipped instantly. Wilhelm turned towards the screen and started typing. Simon thought to himself on a scale of one to an extremely bad person, how awful it was to flirt with his sister’s nurse while she was actively having her baby. He landed somewhere in the middle of the spectrum. Someone had to keep the group spirits up.
Sara’s contractions were getting more and more intense, and the midwife informed Simon and Linda she should only have one person with her. Simon was more than relieved to be dismissed. He grabbed onto Sara’s hand and squeezed it. “You’re going to do great,” he reassured her. It wasn’t often she welcomed his physical comfort, but she had a vice grip on his hand and stared at him wide-eyed.
“You’re not really leaving, are you?” She asked.
“I’ll be right outside.” He squeezed her hand again. Wille turned and smiled as Simon left.
–
It was one of the hardest things Simon had ever not-witnessed. Sara was grunting and crying, obviously distressed, and he knew there wasn’t anything he could do to help. It didn’t get much better when Lukas got there, panting and sweaty and on the verge of the rest of his life. Simon had heard horror stories of parents being in labor for an entire day. His Mamá never let him forget that for his own birth, she didn’t have enough time to get an epidural and just had to grit her teeth and bear it.
He felt selfish, but Simon’s mind kept wandering to Wille. As his palms sweat against his jeans, Simon kept thinking about how this man did this every day. He witnessed people endure the worst pain in their lives, had probably dealt with all kinds of situations and worst case scenarios, and did it all with a smile on his face and a sense of humor. And people said that teaching was a difficult job.
Before long, Simon heard some of the worst crying subside, only to be replaced by a new kind of crying. It was high pitched, and much louder, and holy shit holy shit holy shit , he realized that was the moment. He was an uncle. Tears sprang to his eyes. It still felt surreal that Sara was starting a family of her own, and for the rest of his life he’d have her kids to take to Rosh’s games, or on playdates with Ayub’s two menaces, or even to take to Labor Day parades.
All of a sudden the door slammed open and Wilhelm was standing in front of him purposefully. “You want to meet them?” He asked, beckoning his head back into the room.
“Holy shit, yes,” Simon said, nearly tripping over his own feet.
Sara held the baby on her chest, a sated and peaceful expression on her face. Lukas stood next to her, caressing the top of her head and cooing at the bundle in his wife's arms. Sara looked up at Simon and smiled, ever so slightly tilting the newborn in his direction.
“Alma, meet Uncle Simon,” she breathed.
“Hi, little Alma,” Simon said. She was covered in all kinds of fluids, her eyes screwed shut, but she was undeniably precious. He could see the beginnings of both of her parents features on her face. Sara’s mouth, Lukas’s nose, Linda’s hair. She was spectacular.
He stepped back to let his Mamá come closer, coincidentally moving towards the nurse’s station. “She’s so calm,” Simon murmured to no one in particular.
“It's the oxytocin. Some powerful stuff,” Wilhelm commented. He looked at Simon, eyes smiling. “This is always the best part. Right after, I mean.”
“It’s pretty amazing,” Simon laughed wetly. He couldn’t be bothered to hide his tears.
“Are you excited to be an uncle?” Wilhelm asked.
“It's crazy. My friends keep saying I'll be the cool Guncle.” Simon joked offhandedly.
Wilhelm beamed back at him. “It is pretty cool, not going to lie.” Simon looked at him with a start. “My older brother has two kids. Also takes the responsibility off of us. Unless, of course, that’s something you want,” he finished. This was turning more personal than Simon suspected most of Wilhelm’s interactions with patients’ families went, but he couldn’t be bothered.
Simon didn’t know what to say. He’d thought about kids, but it seemed so complicated. Surrogacy was banned in Sweden, and sure you could go abroad, but that was complicated, expensive, and potentially ethically unsound. Simon had thought about adoption, but it was just that. He figured once he met the right person, they would have that conversation, but until then it had only been a passing thought. It all seemed so real, with Sara cradling Alma in her arms, and Linda standing over them proudly.
“At least ask me on a date before we start having the kids conversation,” Simon finally joked. Wilhelm startled, looking at him with wide eyes before bursting into laughter.
“Is that a request?” He said quietly, glancing around the room. “I’m a professional.”
They left the hospital early the next morning. Sara insisted on bringing the blanket they wrapped around Alma postpartum, the sheet of paper that had her heart signals and time of birth printed on it, and the basin they had washed her in. Simon, too, left with his own souvenir: a new contact and number in his phone, and a promise of a date.