Writing challenge fifteen

Time passed slowly as I tried to give succour to Kerry. Her labour was progressing slowly as often happens with a first pregnancy. Scattered images kept running through my mind of Kerry doing battle as the contractions wracked her body with pain, her abdomen like a punching bag being constantly pounded. A summons to the midwife resulted in pain relief and a reassurance that her labour was progressing excellently. I still continued trying to distract Kerry with assorted reminiscences from our shared childhood like the time the spinster next door had tried to calm us when baby sitting by trying to teach us to sing an octave. Unknown to her we were feverish and about to develop rashes from the measles. Despite her pain Kerry was always a sucker for childhood memories. She had refused the roast pork dinner offered by the hospital. I also had no desire to eat. By the morning her labour was advancing more rapidly. I had been allowed to stay and was feeling nearly as exhausted as Kerry. The midwife was now with Kerry and encouraging her with breathing exercises between contractions. The ward door opened and a disheveled Philip arrived just in time to see his scrawny looking baby son delivered. As the baby cried Kerry and Philip shared a smile of pure happiness.