At that moment, I felt numb, as if without anesthesia.
He was scared. I was also scared. I was afraid of dying and leaving my two children behind. Afraid that Berfe would tell my son, "You killed my mother."
I was afraid of my son experiencing what I had gone through. Botan added another fear to my shoulders—the fear of making him experience the loss of another loved one. Botan wasn't the kind of man to say this just for the sake of it. He wouldn't do it for comfort or morale.
"Sir, you won't be staying. We need to take you outside," said the nurse, and Botan left. Strangely, my pain had stopped.
"I have no pain," I said. The doctor looked.
"Labor has started. The dilation is suitable for birth. Give artificial pain," he said.
My body was in shock from the experience. My delivery wa
