Before the due date approached, Qin Sheng had already arranged the confinement center and all the preparations. Qin Shui’s parents also arrived by high-speed rail and temporarily stayed at their home.
Qin Shui was carrying a daughter. They had known since the beginning of the year. Qin Sheng was very happy. He felt that a gentle and kind girl like Qin Shui was perfectly suited to raising a daughter. Every time he thought about how there would be two Qin Shui in the house in the future, one big and one small, he would wake up smiling even in his dreams.
Multiple prenatal checkups showed no problems. All that remained was waiting for the delivery. Qin Jianmin had originally relied on the connections of an old classmate’s wife, hoping to arrange for Qin Shui to give birth at a public hospital, with a private room so the family could accompany her after delivery. But over these nine months, Qin Sheng had been very conscious about saving money and insisted that Qin Shui give birth at the best private maternity hospital.
The two families had argued quite a bit over this matter. The elders generally felt that money should be spent where it mattered most. Doctors at public hospitals were all experienced professionals, and it was nothing more than spending extra money anyway. The environment was not necessarily worse than that of private hospitals. But Qin Sheng firmly believed that Qin Shui would receive more patient and attentive care at a private maternity clinic.
After the discussion led nowhere, Qin Shui was the one who finally stated her position and said she wanted to give birth at a public hospital.
She didn’t feel there was a huge difference between the two options. It would be better to save the money to buy a better formula and a better crib for the child. After all, neither her nor Qin Sheng’s salary came from money falling from the sky.
They had originally planned to be admitted on April 30th and give birth on May 3rd, but before they could even enter the hospital, an accident happened.
Qin Sheng had worked overtime for three consecutive weeks to accumulate leave for early May and wasn’t at home during the day. On April twenty-ninth, Qin Shui was showering at home when she suddenly developed hypoglycemia with no warning. Fortunately, the floor mat was anti-slip. She reacted quickly and grabbed the sink, but she still hit her waist.
What should have been a light bump happened to coincide with the baby already being fully developed. When it was time to come, it came. Intense pain surged through Qin Shui’s lower abdomen and lower back, with no relief for a long time. She remained extremely calm, put on her clothes, casually wiped her hair twice, and forcefully patted the bathroom door.
Zhang Haimei heard clearly from the living room and rushed into the bathroom to support her. Qin Shui used sign language to say she had hit her belly and that the pain was severe. Zhang Haimei shouted for Qin Kang to call 120, helped her daughter lean back against the sofa, and swiftly dried her hair.
The ambulance arrived much faster than expected. Qin Shui forced herself to stay calm, adjusted her breathing, lowered her heart rate, and tried her best to avoid premature rupture of the membranes.
This wasn’t premature labor, but it wasn’t natural labor either. She was already in unbearable pain on the way, unable to tell whether her body was soaked with sweat or leftover water from the shower. This intermittent surging pain made her vaguely recall the previous two times she had ridden in an ambulance. The first time, she was carried out of the office, nothing more than dizziness. The second time, she had fallen badly, her head bleeding, and was taken to emergency care by the roadside.
This was the third time, and it was hundreds of times more painful than the previous two combined.
The ambulance brought Qin Shui to the large hospital where they had already arranged contacts. It wasn’t far from home, and the doctors and nurses took over quickly. A full set of equipment was put into use to monitor the fetal heartbeat.
Zhang Haimei and Qin Kang hurriedly called Qin Jianmin and Qin Sheng to inform them. In the ward, they were panicking, unable to understand the data on the instrument screens and afraid to disturb the doctors’ diagnosis. They were even more anxious than Qin Shui, the person actually giving birth.
It wasn’t until the acquaintance arrived that he told them there was no major problem, but if they decided on normal delivery, they would have to endure a bit longer and wait until dilation reached eight centimeters.
This was Qin Shui’s first pregnancy, and her pelvis was narrow. The dilation process took longer than that of an average mother. Outside the ward, Qin Kang quickly messaged Qin Sheng to report that everything was safe, telling him not to rush and to drive safely.
Just moments earlier on the phone, Qin Sheng had nearly exploded, his blood pressure shooting up. He hurriedly told his colleagues he was leaving first. His leg pressing the accelerator all the way was trembling. Thinking of Qin Shui’s obedient and slightly dazed appearance made his chest ache. He always felt that his wife didn’t have the strength to give birth, because Qin Shui needed protection, like the petals of a white rose. You couldn’t grip them hard. They needed stability and stillness.
When Qin Kang’s WeChat message came in, he didn’t even dare to look at the notification. Fortunately, he encountered a red light. When he saw the words “Everything is safe, awaiting delivery” on the screen, the cold sweat on his head finally stopped.
He had never been this afraid in his life.
By the time Qin Sheng arrived, Qin Shui had already been given a pain relief injection. He stayed alone in the ward to accompany her, bent over her and kissed her several times, asking whether it still hurt after the injection. Of course, it hurt. Qin Shui was too lazy to respond. Only after the medication took effect did she let Qin Sheng wipe her sweat and drift into a brief, exhausted sleep.
Just a little over sixty minutes felt like enduring a round of torture. She was too tired. Breathing in oxygen, she fell asleep. She didn’t know how long passed before the pain woke her again.
It was already dark. Zhang Haimei fed her two pieces of chocolate. Before she had even truly entered the second stage of labor, she already felt utterly drained, without even the strength to cry.
Qin Sheng had long since bought millet porridge and soup dumplings. Qin Shui only drank a few mouthfuls of porridge when the nurse came in to check the dilation and scan the fetal position.
The baby was slightly transverse. The nurse pressed on her abdomen to turn it. The pain finally made Qin Shui cry out, and she nearly fainted.
At that moment, she even felt intense irritation at the sight of Qin Sheng. Fortunately, the nurse was quick, and the baby’s position wasn’t too off. It was efficiently corrected to head down. The doctor saw the food on the bedside table and reminded them, “Eat a little more. The real physical effort comes later.”
Qin Shui lay half-conscious with her eyes closed. Qin Sheng kept wiping her sweat, reheated the porridge, and fed her spoonful by spoonful.
Compared to the overwhelming pain at the beginning, the pain relief injection worked immediately. Qin Shui gradually regained strength. She seized the gaps between contractions to sit on the edge of the bed and eat two soup dumplings, then was helped by Qin Sheng to walk in the corridor.
There weren’t many people in the corridor, but there were other pregnant women walking slowly while holding the railing. Qin Sheng had enough strength that he was almost supporting her from under her arm, saving Qin Shui some effort.
After walking for fifteen minutes, Qin Shui stood on the scale at the nurses’ station. The needle showed one hundred and sixteen jin.
Qin Sheng felt that with her nearly one-point-seven-meter height, one hundred and thirty to forty jin would be normal. But Qin Shui didn’t reach that. She was much thinner than other mothers in the same ward. As he supported her, he tightly gripped her arm. He didn’t know if it was psychological, but it felt too thin. His throat tightened with heartache, and tears welled up uncontrollably.
“Walk another five minutes and then go back,” a passing doctor reminded them. “Preserve your strength. You can sit on a yoga ball later, with your husband accompanying you.”
Qin Sheng hurriedly agreed, brought Qin Shui back, and after trying several positions and methods back and forth, at exactly nine forty-five at night, she finally reached eight centimeters dilation and her water broke.
After she was pushed into the operating room, Qin Sheng stayed behind to tidy up Qin Shui’s hospital bed alone. He asked the nurse to replace it with a new blue disposable care pad, then folded the Cinnamoroll thin blanket they had brought from home.
The pain in Qin Sheng’s heart could no longer be held back. He couldn’t bear to imagine Qin Shui enduring the pain without making a sound. Mothers in the neighboring rooms cried out when they hurt. Qin Shui couldn’t hear others’ cries and was used to enduring her own pain. She looked quiet on the surface, but the pain had soaked the sheets three times.
He pressed the blanket against his mouth and nose, inhaled Qin Shui’s scent, and at the same time let it absorb his tears.
The elders didn’t notice that he was crying. After all, at this moment, Qin Sheng should appear more composed than Qin Shui. Qin Kang went home to fetch maternal and infant supplies and hospital necessities. The others gathered outside the delivery room, literally sitting on cold benches and waiting.
Qin Shui was the only woman giving birth that night. The seats outside were all empty and very quiet. Among the three, only Qin Jianmin didn’t sit down, stubbornly pacing outside the door. Qin Sheng noticed that every exactly five seconds, he looked up at the light overhead, more precise than a timer.
“In-law, sit down,” Zhang Haimei stood up to comfort him. “They’re all specialists delivering the baby. Qin Shui is usually healthy, and all her prenatal checkups passed. There won’t be any problems.”
Qin Sheng glanced at the time. Just over half an hour had passed. He took a pack of cigarettes and a lighter from Qin Jianmin, told him to sit down and wait calmly, then turned and went to the smoking area on that floor.
The daytime weather had been rare and good, with cotton-like cumulus clouds scattered across the sky and better air quality than usual. The night sky was equally bright and clear, with a soft crescent moon visible.
Standing by the window, Qin Sheng smoked and made wishes to the moon and stars, wishing Qin Shui less suffering, a smooth delivery, and safety for both mother and daughter. He was never someone who believed in gods or spirits, but at that moment, he wished he could grasp onto everything possible to entrust his hopes, begging them to protect Qin Shui.
He smoked five cigarettes in a row, then thought that six would be more auspicious, so he hurriedly lit another one.
Having gone too long without nicotine, a sharp choking sensation suddenly rose in his chest. He waved his hand to disperse the smell of smoke and returned to the operating room entrance.
At 11:05, the operating room light went out. A nurse came out holding a swaddled bundle and asked the four of them gathered together, “Are you the family? What’s the mother’s name?”
Qin Sheng hurriedly answered, “Qin Shui. Qin Shui.”
The baby had an identification band tied around her tiny wrist. The nurse turned slightly to let them see the baby’s face. “A girl. Seven jin and two liang.”
“How’s her mother?” Qin Sheng asked urgently. “How’s my wife?”
“She’s doing well. She’ll be pushed back to the ward shortly.”
Only then did the four of them finally relax. Qin Jianmin rushed to call friends to share the good news. Zhang Haimei and Qin Kang waited to receive their daughter and granddaughter. Qin Sheng, meanwhile, thanked every god and object he could recall having prayed to earlier.
Until the moment she returned to the ward, Qin Shui remained very clear-headed. The small baby crib was right beside her. Inside lay her daughter, wrapped tightly and warmly. The little one was no longer as wrinkled as she had been at birth, round and chubby.
While the nurse came to check the baby’s vital signs, Qin Sheng quickly touched his daughter’s tiny fist. It was exactly like the way Qin Shui punched him every time she got physical, except that his daughter was far too small and soft for him to dare apply any force.
There was only one accompanying bed in the ward, and the elders were all older. Only Zhang Haimei stayed in the ward to accompany them, urging Qin Kang and Qin Jianmin, who had come to deliver items, to go home and get a good night’s sleep.
Qin Sheng rented a folding bed and slept in front of his daughter, refusing to leave. He stubbornly worried that someone might come in at night to steal the baby, which made Qin Shui laugh and cry at the same time.
After the doctor’s check passed, the three of them had a late-night meal together. Qin Shui didn’t have much appetite and ate a light portion of Yangzhou fried rice. Then carb drowsiness and exhaustion surged together, and she lay on her side on the hospital bed, admiring her precious daughter.
“Good wife,” Qin Sheng said, still staring at her. “I just read that if the mother has delicate features and the father has well-defined looks, the girl born will definitely be beautiful. Because she’ll inherit the mother’s gentle facial contours and the father’s features.”
Qin Shui smiled and signed: “I don’t care about that. As long as she’s healthy and whole, that’s enough.”
Qin Sheng said, “She’ll definitely be healthy. We’re both in such good health. Our daughter will definitely grow to one-point-seven meters.”
The baby lay in the crib, making small kicking motions. Her eyes weren’t fully open yet, but she already knew how to yawn. Qin Sheng asked softly, “We picked so many names. In the end, which one are we going to use?”
Qin Shui turned over and picked up her phone, unlocked the screen, and just like the first time they met when she showed him her own name, she changed the lock screen to her daughter’s name.
Qin Huojia.