Looking at the clock on the wall as the second hands tick on. It is already eight hours since it all started. They just took her in ten minutes ago. My parents have just arrived. We sat there in the waiting room anxiously.
The time continues to tick by as the minutes appear like hours. How much longer is this going to take. Her sister is miles away in another state and her mother is at home waiting anxiously for the news. Not much to do but to wait.
You could see people going in and out of the room but still no one came to us with any news. Another 10 minutes passes by. Still waiting. You could here the low hum of the air conditioner in the background and shouts of laughter of children from a distance but all those are not our concern. Again, we continue to wait.
Forty more minutes passed and still no news. What is happening?
Fifty minutes passed then the door opened. He approached us without his mask and then motioned us to sit down. His face was without expression as he delivered the news. My first-born was a stillborn. All the anxious expectation crushed. My parents had lost their first grandson.
