Warmth enveloped me, replacing the icy grip of the snow that had numbed my body just moments before. I blinked, struggling to adjust to the bright lights above. The sterile smell of antiseptic reached my nose, reassuring in its familiarity. I was in a hospital.
The journey here felt like a dream. The last clear memory I had was of the approaching headlights, a beacon of hope cutting through the blizzard. A kind stranger had stopped, bundled me into their car, and driven me straight to the hospital, all the while reassuring me with their calm presence.
The labor room was a flurry of activity. Nurses and doctors moved around me, voices overlapping in a symphony of urgency and compassion. I felt a gentle squeeze on my hand and turned to see a nurse with kind, steady eyes. “You’re doing great, Leah. Just breathe through the contractions,” she encouraged.
