June 12, 2025
Tom, weve got a girl, £3,500 worth of happiness! Emily shouted into the phone, her voice bubbling with delight.
I stood beneath the arches of StMarys Maternity Ward, waving at my wife as she cradled our newborn.
Its a daughter. Im a father! Emily, we were promised a boy! I blurted, halfjoking, halfpanicking.
Silence hung in the line a heartbeat, then Emilys soft whisper slipped through:
Must be a mistake
I turned away, drifting past a cluster of ecstatic new dads drawing chalk hearts on the pavement, letting helium balloons drift skyward, beside gleaming saloon cars and the eager relatives gathered around them.
All my life Id imagined a sonan heir, a continuation of the family line. While Emily was pregnant, I painted scenes of our future: us kicking a football in the back garden, us out on the lake sharing a quiet catch, mens banter over a fresh haul, then evenings gathered around the table recounting the days events, my boy beside me, my pride.
Emilys struggle to conceive had been long. Wed consulted a renowned consultant at a private clinic, a true luminary, and only after five years did she finally share the good news.
Tom? I heard someone behind me and turned to see James, a mate from university.
How long has it been? he asked, eyes crinkling.
Just got back from my mothers place; shes a bit under the weather, needs a hand. The old mans been gone about five years now. How about you? I replied.
Im just leaving the maternity ward; Emilys given birth to a daughter.
Congratulations! Why dont you look happier? James smiled wryly.
He gestured toward a nearby café and we slipped inside to talk.
So you were expecting a lad? We all hope for boys, its only natural. I once prepared myself to be a father of a son, only to welcome a daughter instead.
Hows your family? Did they come? I asked.
James dropped his gaze, then lifted it with a look that seemed to hold the weight of the whole universe.
Im alone now. No family left. Tom, this isnt the right moment for me, youre in a celebration.
What happened?
An accident I cant bring myself to speak of it. Ive been on my own for a year, thinking of moving back with my mother, finding a job, fixing up the flat.
We lingered for ages, swapping stories of university days, mutual acquaintances, future plans. I gave James my number, telling him he could ring any time, day or night.
The next morning I raced to the hospital windows, clutching a massive bouquet of Emilys favourite garden peas and a bunch of balloons tied to my wrist.
Emily! I called out, hearing her voice crackle through the handset.
Forgive me! Im overjoyed about our longawaited little one! Does she look like anyone?
Like you, Tomshes a perfect little copy of you!
Really? I felt like a lost soul yesterday
No need to explain, I understand everything she interrupted, smiling.
Tom, shes a healthy, calm girl. She eats, sleeps, and even smiles in her dreams. Theyll discharge us soon; youll see for yourself.
P.S. We never had any more children; the birth was arduous and left lasting effects on Emilys health. Twenty years on, our daughter has grown into a bright, beautiful woman we adore and take immense pride in. James became her godfather. I remain grateful for that conversationit opened my eyes and, above all, taught me to cherish and love everyone standing beside me now.
