This morning it was quite cold, now I'm walking around sweating like crazy. My new autumn look is way too warm for this September weather. A woman who is 39 weeks pregnant just called. The contractions have started. She and her husband already have two boys, and this too will be another boy. As I walk towards their front door, I want to take off my jumper, but the camisole underneath I cannot count as work clothes. As I wait for the door to open, I lash at my jumper a little to wave myself cool.

"There you are," the man of the house greets me. "We have already accommodated the boys with friends." He continues talking cheerfully as he leads me to the bedroom. There, his wife is busy catching a contraction. "Here she is." He turns and heads back to the living room. "Hi," the woman says. The contraction has disappeared again. She starts chatting. I start checking. "Five centimetres of dilation." The man returns with two cups of tea. "I have two cups of tea left," the woman says. She points to the bedside table. "Oh," he says and looks at me questioningly. "I prefer a glass of water. It's hot outside." A moment later, he returns with three glasses of water. Just then, his wife is working away a contraction. He puts the glasses down, doesn't look up or back and disappears again.

"Leave my husband," she says when the contraction is gone. "He must have something to do." I nod. "He's not going to hold my hand," she continues. "We are not like that. Let him be functional." I nod again. 

Wee by wee she works away and meanwhile she chats cosily with me. Meanwhile, on the cupboards around us is a whole collection of cups, glasses and half-filled plates. The maternity assistant has arrived and things are being prepared. The contractions become more intense. The husband sits leaning against the other side of the bed. The woman grabs my hand. He is fine with it. The boy comes screaming into the world. The man laughs: "So that's the last one." "That's right," she says. "That's how we agreed." 

"Can I call my mother?" he asks. "Then she can come." "Wait a little longer until the placenta is also there," I say, looking at him. "The placenta has yet to be born and I want to make sure the labour is fully completed and that we don't have to go to the Hospital after all." He doesn't listen and grabs his iPhone from his pocket. "Hey mum, you've become a grandma again," he says. "Wait, I'll just put you on speaker." The woman squeezes, the placenta has to come out. I instruct her in the meantime. "Oh how nice dear, how special," echoes across the room. The woman squeezes again. The maternity assistant stands with the baby in her arms and exchanges glances with the man and me. 

"How I like that something positive happens on this day," Grandma says. Then the man is silent and looks motionless at his phone. "You don't remember what day it is today, do you? You forgot." One last time, the woman squeezes as I support her abs. "Honey your father, had he been alive, would have had today's birthday." The man lays his head on his wife's shoulder and starts crying loudly. At that moment, I have a placenta in my hands.