Chapter 9 - THE FIRST BREATH
Miriam Hale didn't waste a single microsecond on panic. The veteran midwife moved with the speed of an emergency room trauma surgeon.
She instantly clamped the umbilical cord in two places with heavy plastic clips and cut between them with her surgical scissors. She snatched a small, blue rubber bulb syringe from her open medical bag, inserting the tip cleanly into the tiny infant’s nose and mouth, suctioning out fluid and blood with precise, rhythmic squeezes.
Next, she grabbed a clean, warm flannel towel, wrapping the miniature child completely, and began rubbing the baby’s tiny back and chest with firm, rapid friction to stimulate the central nervous system.
"Come on, little one," Miriam muttered under her breath, her fingers moving like lightning. "Breath for me. Come on..."
Alexander held Kate tightly against his broad torso, his arms locked around her shoulders like iron bands. Tears were streaming freely down his broad, tattooed face now, dripping onto Kate’s wet hair. He leaned his head down, pressing his forehead against hers, his voice broken and pleading.
"Please," Alexander whispered into the dark space between them, a prayer from a man who hadn't prayed in twenty years. "Please, God... take me. Take everything I have. Just let him breath..."
For five agonized seconds, the only sound in the room was the heavy rain beating against the terrace glass.
Then, a tiny, sputtering cough echoed from the center of the warm flannel towel.
Miriam rubbed the tiny back again, faster this time.
The cough came again, clearer, followed instantly by a sharp, high-pitched, fragile cry—a tiny, metallic sound that pierced the heavy air of the master bedroom like a golden ray of light.
Waaaaah... waaaah... waaaah...
The sound was weak, premature, and small, but it was the sound of life—the sound of lungs expanding and taking in oxygen for the very first time.
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Kate let out a long, shuddering sob, her entire body relaxing into Alexander’s arms as she buried her face in his neck, weeping uncontrollably with sheer, overwhelming relief.
Alexander closed his eyes, leaning his head back against the headboard, his heavy shoulders shaking as he let out a jagged exhale of air he felt like he had been holding for six months.
