TAXI

CHAPTER 7 – The Final Month

The city was quiet as I walked through the apartment, still tired but with a sense of purpose that outweighed my physical exhaustion. The last month of my wife’s pregnancy was the most tense and emotional period of our lives. Every moment was filled with anticipation, anxiety, joy, and fear. Every detail in the apartment reminded me of the baby that would soon arrive; every object carried weight and meaning. The shelves were slowly filling with blankets, clothes, toys, and little things I had been collecting for months, carefully choosing everything necessary to give our baby warmth and security.

The biggest financial challenge was the stroller and the crib. It was a double challenge: earning enough money and at the same time making sure I didn’t make a mistake in choosing the right items. I thought about every detail: the materials, the sturdiness, safety standards, and usability. Every receipt and transaction was a mixture of stress and pride. I was aware that this was an investment in the baby’s future – a safe place to sleep, a comfortable environment for the first months, and a symbol of our love and responsibility.

Friday, Saturday, and Sunday of those weeks were the toughest. During those 72 hours, I slept only ten hours in total. Every minute awake was devoted to driving, earning money, and preparing the baby’s room. My body was exhausted, my hands rough, my eyes red from fatigue, but my heart and motivation were unwavering. And while I drove through the city at night, my thoughts were constantly at home, with my wife and everything that awaited us.

My wife was particularly sensitive during those days. Her body was tired, her skin stretched, and the baby’s movements in her belly sometimes brought a smile, and other times worry. Every breath, every movement reminded me how fragile life is, yet how precious. “Can you feel her?” she would ask, gently touching her belly. I was there, always, because every moment mattered, every smile worth the fatigue and effort. Every reaction of hers, from laughter to quiet pain, fueled my determination and sense of responsibility.

Buying the stroller and crib was the highlight of that month. Every step, from researching the market to making the payment, was filled with tension but also happiness. Every time I paid, I felt the weight of financial responsibility pressing lightly on my shoulders, but at the same time, I felt pride: I was doing everything I could for our baby. The stroller was expensive but necessary, and the crib was the central symbol of our child’s safety and comfort. Every choice was deliberate, every detail carefully considered.

My wife was, during these moments, a source of emotions that further motivated me. Sometimes she would cry—tears of happiness, fear, and fatigue. “What if something goes wrong?” she would ask, her voice full of worry, her eyes shiny from sleeplessness. I held her tightly, whispering that everything would be okay, that I was there, and nothing would disturb our peace. Every time she smiled, I felt my fatigue turn into energy, and my anxiety into determination. In those moments, in the quiet apartment, I felt a true connection; I felt how fragile life is, yet how strong it becomes when shared with someone you love.

We were both aware that the arrival of our baby meant the beginning of a new life, new responsibilities, and uncertainties. Every moment, every object in the apartment, every movement of the baby in my wife’s belly reminded us of the importance of preparation and the strength of family. The sense of responsibility was constant, yet I also felt calm, knowing I was doing everything I could.

In moments when my wife felt pain or discomfort, I was there with her. Her sighs, her laughter, her tears, and her smiles shaped my sense of the real value of life and family. Every touch, every look, every word reminded me that all the effort, all the fatigue, and all the sacrifices had a purpose—the future of our baby and our family’s happiness. When the baby moved or reacted to my touch or voice, I felt waves of emotions: fear, love, anxiety, and immense joy.

Lying down at night, after enduring everything during the weekend with so few hours of sleep, I felt peace, but also responsibility. I was ready for the arrival of our baby. I was ready to be a father, to support my wife, and to be there for every moment—both good and hard. Every tear, every smile, every moment of waiting shaped our story and strengthened our family.

I thought about the future: how the first meeting with the baby would be, the first cry, the first smile. Every thought filled me with a mix of joy and fear. I was tired, exhausted, but I felt the strength that love and responsibility give a person. Knowing the stroller and crib were ready, knowing the apartment was prepared, I felt how everything was slowly falling into place, how we were together creating a safe space for our family.

Sometimes my wife worried about physical discomfort, sometimes about the approaching birth. Her conversations with me were full of emotion, and I listened, held her, soothed her, and prepared both myself and her for what was coming. Every night was filled with a mix of anticipation and anxiety, but also quiet happiness that we were together.

Every conversation went deeper than words. We talked about the future, about dreams for the baby, about how we would raise our child, how we would share responsibilities, how we would face uncertainties and fears together. In these conversations, we discovered more about ourselves and each other, strengthening our bond and sense of unity. Every tear, every smile, every anxiety, and every laugh made us more prepared for what was to come.

The apartment became a place of ritual. Every day, every evening, was an opportunity for small preparations, arranging items, checking blankets, clothes, toys, and preparing diapers and other essentials that make parents feel secure. While organizing the shelves, I felt that every object in the baby’s room told a story of our love and dedication.

Every time my wife lay down, I felt her unease, her fear, but also excitement. Every change of position, every sigh, every movement of the baby was a signal. And I was there, listening, helping, holding her hand, whispering words of comfort and love. The intensity of emotions was so strong that sometimes I felt my heart racing while my body was at its limit of exhaustion.