Some changes in life, the philosophers commented, were marked by the small changes. Whether these were caused voluntarily or not they never divulged and the rest never knew. It came down to a matter of opinion, which was more than justified in the ancient times of democracy. However, this change in the lives of Burt and Carole was momentous and…well, sweaty and bloody. Lying in a palla, Carole’s chiton had already been soaked in blood. Sweat was pouring out of her in buckets, her groans sounded painful. A midwife hovered about, a worried expression on her face. This had been going on for at least six hours now. To her memory – she was a well-known, sought out midwife and Burt’s mother – this was the longest birth she had ever attended. The baby could be still-born or there was something wrong. Burt had gone to fetch a doctor around the fifth hour and returned 15 minutes later. Yet still no sign of a baby.

“Carole, you need to push more!”

More pained groans.

“PUSH!! CAROLE YOU NEED TO PUSH!!!”

Carole emitted a sound that was indistinguishable between frustration and pain.

“Carole, honey. You can….AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!” Not even Burt, the tough commerce man could finish his sentences. Carole’s pain became his just by holding her hand.  The doctor was the most silent and unprofessional character they had ever seen. The most useful he did during the process was to occasionally mention whether he saw a baby’s head. Or didn’t, as was the case.

“Push.”

Groan.

 “Push!”

Groan.

“PUSH.”

Groan.

“PUSH!”

More groans.

“Can you see anything?” the midwife asked. No answer for two minutes. “DOCTOR? CAN YOU SEE ANYTHING?! DOCTOR!!!”

“I’M PRAYING TO ARTEMIS. IS THAT A CRIME?!”

“PUSH, CAROLE. JUST A LITTLE MORE.”

“A LITTLE MORE?! MY WIFE IS DYING. SHE HASN’T EATEN, IS LOSING TOO MUCH BLOOD AND WATER!” Burt bellowed back at his mother. He knew he’d have to apologize later but now, his wife did take precedence over respecting his mother.

“I can see a baby’s head.”

“OH SO NOW YOU’RE DONE? HELP, YOU IDIOT!”

“CAROLE, COME ON, A FINAL PUSH!!!”

This was the last painful groan Carole ever emitted and she slumped back in relief. As tired as she was, she still ordered for a cold bath to be brought.

Out of the bundle, a clean, sweet-scented baby peered out, his blue-green eyes too big for his eyes, looking first at the heavens, then at his mother. His eyes appeared even wider then.

“His name shall be Kurt.” Carole said before pressing the baby to her chest.

Even the sky purred in approval.