Nadia’s eyes were rimmed red. The news had been hard on her, even after hearing it seven times before. She had lost both the children inside her, and so close to the due date. She had cried the whole night long, stirring the women in neighbouring beds with her heavy sobs.
Now it was the morning, and the newborn yellow sun poked its light through the hospital blinds. It touched her rouged eyes and the light softened.

The impeccably straight nurse walks forcefully over to Nadia’s neighbour. “You can leave today,” she says in a nasal voice that would usually rile Nadia.
“OK,” says the woman as the baby beside her starts crying. Post natal, thinks Nadia, as the woman precedes to cry. Looking to Nadia she cried, “Can you hold her?”

“Sure,” she exclaims, taking the child in her arms. The baby looks up at her, eyes wide. “Hey, baby,” she whispers, smiling for the first time in weeks. She looks up to her husband, her eyes saying everything: I deserve this forever.