It was Nowruz 1994, and I was a midwifery intern at the hospital. Springtime in the maternity ward always felt mysteriously alive — like whatever you do blossoms into something unexpected.
As the only single intern, I was the busiest shift-taker — mornings, nights, even during holidays!
That afternoon, a call came: “Someone’s here to see you.” It was my neighbor with her sister — a guest from Abadan. They were waiting in the maternity emergency entrance. As I opened the door, I was greeted with warm, wet Southern kisses on both cheeks!
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“My sister’s head feels soft… like, really soft when you press it. And now she has back pain and keeps going to the bathroom. Maybe it was that fish she ate last night?”
My midwife instincts kicked in.
“When did your head start feeling soft?” I asked the sister.
“It’s been like that for a while… but today it’s worse. And something weird — since this morning, warm water keeps coming out of me.”
I quickly took her to the exam table. As I inserted the speculum and looked inside, I froze: something dark was peeking back at me — **the head of a baby**!
I kicked open the emergency door:
**“Help! A baby’s coming!”**
The on-call doctor rushed in. My friend Tahereh, another midwife, sprinted down the stairs. Within 15 minutes, a 5-kilogram baby girl was born screaming into the world!
The scene was unforgettable:
- The neighbor had fainted onto the floor.
- The "recently menopausal" mom was cursing her husband in Arabic.
- And the three of us were stunned by a spring miracle — a girl born to a mother who had six sons and thought her “soft head” was from bad fish!
That newborn was a message from life itself:
**Spring always surprises you where you least expect it…**
*P.S.* Turns out even the neighbor’s “soft head” was due to a hidden pregnancy!
Even today, whenever I pass by that hospital, I smell that wild Nowruz, like it happened yesterday…
