From The Stranger "…The newborn's breathing was initially erratic, then stabilized with oxygen by facial mask. Warm hands, the aggressive fingers of strangers, compelled its new life forward. The baby would not die today, not this hour. A pink sheen began in waves, first the trunk, the face, the limbs. Then the sounds of birth. A war-cry, a scream, a lusty shout. Strong arm and leg movements, good muscle tone. Around six pounds. The pediatrician signaled from the bassinet with a thumbs-up: all would be well. A collective sigh, the relief of resurrection. Noises, chattering sounds from metallic basins on the operating table, clashing with a newborn howling…"

From The Opera "…Strange music wafted into the birthing room, loud, gritty, resembling Wagner, most likely transmitted through the adjacent wall TV, the PBS station. left on by the cleaning team. Symphonic sounds, kettle drums, a fevered crescendo, violins soaring, tubas blaring, horns bleating. It seemed a surreal accompaniment to the vision in front of me…Strutting atop the labor bed stood my own Brunhilde, the warrior maiden, six-foot two, 275 pounds, bellowing profanities, punching the air, in the throngs of labor. Stoned. A diva on crack…"

From December Breath "…The dark sky opened and bled. I remembered the snow falling, pounding the clinic windows, the initial storm of the season, the week before Christmas…I resumed my interview with Mrs. Concord, making notes onto a file card pulled from lab coat pocket. I studied the stack, shuffling it, assessing its weight, a collection of nearly fifteen bodies, an assembly of diseases, all hospital faces, room numbers, embossed patient data. As a student I was always writing. A personal lifespan spelled out in discrete bundles of sentences, paragraphs, and vital signs, the poems of stripped down existence. Each face became a story, a voice, a cleansing, wanting to be told. In our recitation we added our voices to the tales, our lives converging with their stories, their speaking, their healing…"

From August Odyssey "…All of us begin as swimmers. Prenatal life is aquatic: rolling, swallowing, voiding, slurping, and undulating within the currents of an amniotic bath. Our eyes blink, beholding darkness. Our fingers touch a pulsing cord, our chests rubbing against the placenta, bouncing wildly, zigzagging within a uterine prison. We then become evicted, thrust into existence, the outside world bursting upon us…"

From Banu "…It was a path less traveled, the fearful fork in a yellow road. The universe seemed on hold, music barraging my brain, harsh symbol sounds, cerebral gunfire, grenades exploding, violins at high-pitched tempo. I stared at Banu's brain, the blood flowing, ruptured, into her mind, her interior life a fragile war-zone. A baby also lay within her, not quite ripe, not ready for the outside world. Dr. Quilligan tapped my arm. No more time for dawdling…"

From Double Header "…I liked it when the husbands wept. It was often the highpoint of the delivery. I had seen all the men disintegrate: the F-15 fighter pilot, the tank commander, the military policeman, the drill sergeant, the Army Ranger, the Cobra attack helicopter aviator. Their tears were thick. Sometimes they even fainted, the fall hard, with a harsh thud piercing the night. The irony was always beautiful. I looked at their hands. Hands that lobbed grenades. Hands that brandished M-16's, Stingers, assault weapons. Hands that were trained to fly million-dollar jet fighter planes in aerial combat. Hands that now clutched a soft blanket covering a newborn child. Hands that lifted a son or daughter into the air for the first time. For one brief moment the wars in their minds ceased…"

From The Birth Plan "…I'll be very vulnerable when I'm contracting, Doctor, so I want all my desires known by the birth-care team beforehand. I certainly don't want any surprises in my labor. I'm very much into natural childbirth, too. No medical interventions. No preps, no enemas, no IV's, no drugs, no fetal monitoring, no Cesareans, no pain…" I nodded, a line from page two. The low-service hospital plan."