CHAPTER : 8
The day that I was born, the sky was clear at night, and a cold wind was slowly blowing.
Stars in the sky were shining. It had snowed the day before, so a thick layer of snow covered the entire village.
In the room of my house on the second floor, Mother was in the pain of labor, lying on the bed and screaming out in pain.
Beside her, Father was sitting on a chair, holding her hand and saying,
"It's going to be okay," he said in a gentle voice.
"You have to push through this, and we'll have our baby in our arms.
Just a little more, and we are done."
He said it while consoling her with all he had, but to all eyes there, it was clear—
as much as he was consoling her, he was also consoling himself.
The temperature of the room was warmer for some reason.
Everyone was sweating, but for different reasons.
In the room there was also the nanny who delivered almost all the children in the village and had long-term experience in this.
She guided Mother in every step she had to take in the process, her voice loud and firm.
There was a gentle yet angry look in her eyes.
"Just a little more, the head has come out," she said.
"Just a little more, and we'll all have a long rest.
Just the last push, and it will be out."
She said it calmly, as if it was just any other day for her.
The tension was so thick in the room you could feel the weight and pressure everyone was under.
A thin sound cut through the air and filled the house in bursts.
Everyone stopped, and after a long moment, relief appeared on their faces.
It was the sound of the baby's first cry after coming into the world.
The nanny examined me and said,
"It's a boy," announcing the news to everyone there.
In the middle of this,
By hearing the earlier sound, Grandpa Nolin and his wife, Grandma, came upstairs to look,
and also brought a tub of warm water to wash me.
After overhearing the news, Grandma took the tub from his hands and came inside,
while Grandpa stayed at the doorstep.
They cleaned me, wrapped me in a warm blanket, and placed me next to Mother.
That was also when Grandma gave a signal to Grandpa to come inside.
Seeing the baby, all of them gave him smiles filled with warmth and started talking to him—or me.
"Ohh, look how cute he looks. He's just like his mother. He has her eyes—
the same emerald color like her,"
Grandma said, the warmth clear in her voice.
"Look, he has black hair like his father,
but he's much cuter than him by a landslide,"
Grandpa said with a joyous smile on his face.
"I know he has to be cute because he's the son of my wife,"
Father took Grandpa's joke and turned it into his pride.
All three standing there were stunned by it and stared at him for a long second.
But after that, chaos unfolded.
The three of them argued about the most stupid things a human could imagine.
Mother stayed silent,
enjoying three adults arguing about all the things that came to their minds.
But after some time, she realized that something important was missing.
"So," she broke the argument with a single word in her weak voice.
A long silence filled the air.
Everyone tried to listen to what she was about to say.
"I was thinking, honey… what name did you prepare for the child?"
She looked in Father's direction and asked.