At 9:55 p.m. Monday, Connor Williams, one of the many paramedics who worked day and night shifts in Washington DC, became someone Cynthia would never forget. Not his face, not his voice, nor his kind smile and calm overall demeanor.
The man that Cynthia knew only by name delivered her baby boy into this world.
"Mr. Robinson, come and do the honors," Connor said as George kept kissing Cynthia's head now that her body had finally relaxed, her chest was still heaving.
George halfheartedly left Cynthia's side and accepted the clamp from the paramedic's hand and placed it where Connor was pointing. He then cut the cord using a scalpel and smiled at the crying little thing.
Sam took the baby and dried him, made sure he was warm, and then gave him to his mother who was disoriented and focusing on the relief she was feeling after the worse pain she went through in her entire life.
