Maya’s house was filled with a quiet sense of anticipation. She was in the garden, her fingers gently brushing over the delicate petals of her blooming roses. The sun was setting, casting a warm, golden glow over the yard. It was peaceful, but Maya felt a tightness in her chest—a premonition of what was to come. She had been feeling subtle, inexplicable discomforts over the past few days. Today, however, the pangs were sharper, more insistent.
She paused, clutching her abdomen, her breath catching. The initial pangs had become stronger, unmistakable contractions that made her knees weak. She quickly set down the watering can, her heart pounding with both excitement and anxiety. This was it; she was going into labor.
Maya staggered inside, grabbing her phone and dialing the doctor’s numbe
