It could have been any other late night labor.
It could have been any other early morning birth.
It could have been any other woman.
It could have been any other midwife.
But it was her.
And it was me.
And it was amazing and scary and brave and fast and slippery and lovely and beautiful and emotional and heavy and light and everything at once. For both of us.
And outside, it rained, the El rumbled, and the smaller stars faded while the brightest among them rose for the day.