"Yellow Room"

They put me in a large room, painted yellow. Supposedly I would rest in here while my wife was in her hospital bed, two doors away. I can't stand seeing her in pain and so vulnerable, but I told myself, as her husband, she depended on my courage and strength to keep her going.
Remembering the events that had taken place in the last hour or so, I sighed, exhausted. Julia had wakened me with her cries that my mind had so cleverly entwined into my dreams. We had always been a very close couple, friends since highschool, we had a certain bond that caused us to share each other's pain and happiness. The cloak of drowsiness that always hovered over me when I woke up, was ripeed off me in a rush of panix and adreinaline that I did not think was possible at 1am in the morning. I had woken up to a nightmare. Seeing Julia sick or in pain was like a knife to my heart.
The 20 minute trip to St Hues hospital would have one me a Grand Prix title... or a hefty fine! Luckily, the police seemed to have other matters to attend to at this hour.. or they were sane enough to be tucked in bed. The doctors, unlike myself, appeared frustratingly calm and sullen when I burst into the ward with Julia. They put her into a wheelchair and wheeled her (so slowly!) into the room where she is right now. As I looked around the yellow walls I wondered and worried. Had I locked the house? Had a filled out Julia's medical information properly? This was not the first time I'd taken Julia to hospital. In fact, this was about the fourth time this year. I had never understood why God had punished such a perfect woman, but Julia had been cursed with a rare genetic disease that the doctors were still trying to work out. Every hint of ilness or pain would cause my stomach to clench with worry instantly. I knew my strength and surety would help her, but as I paced about the cheerful looking room I wondered if I could face watching the woman I cared for more than anything in the world, suffering so much.
I peered through the doorway dubiously, terrified of what I might find. A woman that looked disturbingly like my own mother walked out of the room with her head down and I dared not ask her of Julia's condition, unwilling to hear words that could shatter my heart. Stepping into the room was almost like walking through a portal into another world. The aura about the room was ominous, like a hovering ghost of the furture that would know what the next few hours would bring. How I wished I could catch it and strangle the truth from it. But I didn't want to know what the furture would bring almost as much as I did! A monitor was bleeping steadily beside Julia's sweaty head. She muttered a soft hello as I sat beside her and took her clammy hand in mine. Her eyes asked a thousand questions as she gazed up at me.
The moment was interupted by a sharp cry of pain and her hand tightened like a vice onto mine. The lady that had left the room previously, came rushing back ni and she called the doctor as another wave of pain swept over my poor, sweet wife. Determined to give Julia all the motivation to fight I possibly could, I stayed by her side, holding her hand that passed her pain through to me. The ominous feeling that had hung over the room was chased away by the state of fluster and panic created as doctors rushed around bellowing their foreign orders. I began a silent prayer for my wife's well-being. M yeyes, red from tears that had not been shed, watched the doctors working so steadily and seemingly numb to the pressure and panic within the room. There was a final cry from my wife and then another, unfamiliar cry that transformed the pools of worry in my eyes to rivers of happiness and relief. My perfectly healthy son was placed into the arms of my exhausted, exhilerated wife. Our little miracle baby was born.