Poppy Whitmore would remember that night for the rest of her life. She arrived at the hospital alone, with no one beside her while she was in labour. Her husband, James, had walked out a few months earlier, as soon as he heard she was expecting.
The labour went on for hours, but at last the first cries of the newborn sounded through the room. Everything had gone smoothly, and the baby was perfectly healthy.
The doctor took the boy carefully in his arms to hand him to Poppy, but then something strange happened.
As he passed the baby over, he stopped. His hands trembled slightly. He looked at the child’s face, then at Poppy’s, and his eyes filled with tears.
“Doctor, is everything all right?” she asked anxiously.
He nodded, unable to speak for a few seconds.
Then, in a stunned voice, he whispered something that left Poppy utterly paralysed.
The doctor had noticed a small birthmark on the baby’s arm.
He recognised it immediately as identical to the one his own son had had before the boy vanished years ago—the son he had since lost all contact with.
His heart tightened.
Poppy followed his gaze, frightened, and asked what was happening.
The doctor took a deep breath, tears still in his eyes, and explained that this mark was exactly the same as his son’s, which meant the baby was his grandson.
Poppy felt the world sway around her.
The pain of being completely alone during childbirth dissolved, replaced by a deep and overwhelming emotion.
She held her child tightly against her, while the doctor, moved beyond words, realised that this tiny infant had just restored a bond broken long ago.
