Moira Reynolds is well versed on the perils of Friday the 13th. There was the time in Grade eight when her math teacher decided to spring a test on the unluckiest of unlucky days. Then there was the Friday the 13th where she got dumped by her high school boyfriend. Over the years she had also been through a flat tire, food poisoning, a broken oven and a power outage. So going into labour on Friday, November 13th did not fill her heart with joy.
The contractions started just after midnight and they progressed quickly enough for Moira to know that the delivery would not stretch into tomorrow.
“Not today,” Moira said when she had felt the first pang. “I have waited years for this moment. Nothing can happen to this baby.”
Moira had indeed waited five years for this moment. She and her husband, Cameron, had wanted children from the moment they married. Numerous fertility treatments and two miscarriages later, her dreams of motherhood were about to be realized. She wasn’t due for another two weeks, though, so why was she going into labour today?
“I’m cursed,” she thought. Then she thought the worrisome thoughts that all new parents do. What if the cord gets wrapped around the baby’s neck? What if the baby needed those two extra weeks to develop? What if the doctor has to use forceps and hurts the baby? What if…what if…what if?
“Just one more push, Moira,” the doctor told her.
“You can do it honey,” her husband reassured her.
“No. No, I can’t,” she said with an exhausted whisper. But like all good mothers, Moira found the strength to do what was best for her child, and with a final push she and her husband welcomed Noah Gabriel Reynolds into the world.
“Is he okay?! Is he okay?” Moira asked with trepidation.
“He’s perfect, just like you,” Cameron said before kissing her sweetly on the forehead. “Here, hold him.”
The baby she held her arms was perfect…and one hundred percent healthy. From that day forward, Moira saw Friday the 13th not as unlucky, but as the best day of her life.