**Scene 1: The Blinking Numbers – A Wave of Reality**
Sunlight streamed through the balcony doors, illuminating dust motes dancing in the quiet living room. Maryam sat propped on the sofa, a half-finished glass of almond milk beside her, her embroidery – a tiny blanket border – resting forgotten in her lap. Rimsha was out fetching fresh fruit for their mid-morning snack, leaving Maryam in a rare pocket of solitude. Idly, she picked up her phone, swiping past notifications until her calendar app caught her eye.
She tapped it open. The meticulously marked date – her due date, circled with a digital flourish – glared back at her. Her finger hovered, then tapped on it. The app helpfully displayed: **"Event: Ubaid's Arrival - Due Today!"** Below, in smaller, almost accusatory text: **"Starts in 2 days."**
Two days. Forty-eight hours.
A wave of pure, visceral reality crashed over Maryam. It wasn't just a date anymore; it was a ticking clock. Forty-eight hours until her body would be asked to perform its most monumental task. The carefully maintained calm of the past weeks fractured. A flutter of panic, sharp and cold, prickled under her skin, followed by an overwhelming surge of anticipation so intense it stole her breath. Her hand instinctively flew to her bump, feeling Ubaid shift, a solid, grounding presence within the sudden emotional maelstrom.
She needed Haroon. Not later, not when he came home. *Now.* His voice, his steady certainty, was the only anchor in this sudden storm of feeling. With slightly trembling fingers, she found his contact and pressed call.
**Haroon (answering on the second ring, his voice alert but calm):** "Maryam? Everything alright, meri jaan? Is it time?" There was no panic in his tone, only readiness.
**Maryam (her voice catching, breathless):** "No... no, not time. But Haroon... I just looked at the calendar... it says... two days. Only two days left. Forty-eight hours." The numbers felt heavy on her tongue.
**Haroon (his voice softening, instantly understanding the tremor in hers):** "Ah. The final countdown has truly begun, hasn't it?" He paused, letting his calm seep down the line. "Listen to me. Breathe, Maryam. Just breathe. In... and out. Good. Now, remember what Dr. Samina said yesterday? Everything is perfect. Ubaid is ready, *you* are ready. And we are *prepared*."
**Scene 2: Fortresses of Preparation – Haroon's Calm Blueprint**
**Maryam (taking a shaky breath, trying to latch onto his calm):** "I know... I know she said normal delivery, no complications predicted. It's just... the reality of it... hitting me now. The waiting... the unknown of *when* exactly..."
**Haroon:** "The unknown is always there, jaan. But we've stacked the deck in our favour. Remember the hospital tour? Room 304, the deluxe one overlooking the garden? It's booked and confirmed. Paid for. Ready. The bag? Packed, double-checked last night by you, Rimsha, and me. It's by the door – clothes for you, clothes for Ubaid, your toiletries, chargers, snacks, even that lavender oil you like. Dr. Samina is on alert. Her number is on speed dial on both our phones *and* Rimsha's. The car? Full tank, car seat installed and inspected yesterday. The route? Mapped, with two alternative paths in case of traffic, timed at different hours." His voice was methodical, listing each point like a reassuring checklist. "Abbu and Ammi are on standby. Rimsha is *here*. The station knows I'm on paternity leave the moment you say the word. Everything that *can* be settled, *is* settled, Maryam."
**Maryam (feeling the panic recede slightly, replaced by awe at his thoroughness):** "You... you've thought of everything, haven't you?"
**Haroon (a hint of a smile in his voice):** "Trying to. It's my job. To protect, to serve, to prepare. Especially for my two most important people. The only unknown is the exact minute Ubaid decides to make his grand entrance. And that, meri jaan, is a beautiful surprise we get to wait for together. You don't need to worry about the logistics. Your only job is to listen to your body, rest, and know that when the time comes, we move like a well-oiled machine. Because we are prepared." He paused, his voice dropping to a deeper, more intimate tone. "You are strong, Maryam. So incredibly strong. You've carried him, nurtured him, protected him for all these months. Your body knows exactly what to do. Dr. Samina has faith in it, I have absolute faith in it, and *you* need to have faith in it too. This is the final stretch. You've got this."
**Scene 3: Strength Acknowledged – The Anchor's Promise**
Maryam closed her eyes, letting his words wash over her. He didn't dismiss her fear; he acknowledged it and then systematically dismantled its power by showcasing the fortress of preparation he'd built around her. His faith in her was a tangible thing, a warm cloak settling over her shoulders.
**Maryam (voice steadier, filled with emotion):** "I know every time you say these things, Haroon. Every time you remind me, motivate me... you have no idea how much it means. In these moments, when the fear tries to creep in... you are my strength. My anchor." A tear escaped, tracing a warm path down her cheek, but it was a tear of profound gratitude and love, not fear. "Hearing your voice... knowing you've planned for every brick... it makes me believe I can do this."
**Haroon (his voice thick with emotion now):** "Maryam... you *are* strength. Pure and simple. I just hold the lantern so you can see it shining within yourself. And I will *always* be your anchor. Through this, through Ubaid's first cry, through sleepless nights, through every challenge and joy that comes after. My hand is right here, holding yours. Always." He took a deep breath. "So, my brave, beautiful wife, take another deep breath. Enjoy these last precious hours of carrying Ubaid close. Savor the kicks. Let Rimsha spoil you rotten. Have some fruit. Read a book. Watch the clouds. The machinery is primed and ready. When Ubaid signals, we go. Until then... rest. Trust your body. Trust me. Trust *us*. Don't worry, Maryam. Truly. Everything is settled. Just focus on being the amazing mother you already are."
**Maryam (wiping the tear, a genuine, if wobbly, smile forming):** "Okay. Okay, Haroon. I will. Shukriya... for everything. For being you."
**Haroon:** "Always, meri jaan. Always. I'll be home by 4:00 PM, insha'Allah. Anything, *anything* before then, call me. Otherwise, relax. I love you."
**Maryam:** "I love you too. More than words."
She hung up, placing the phone gently on her lap. The initial panic had receded, replaced by a profound sense of being held – by Haroon's meticulous planning, by his unwavering faith, by his fierce love. She looked down at her bump. "Okay, Ubaid," she whispered, her voice steady now. "We're ready when you are. Your Abbu has built us a fortress." She picked up her embroidery again, the rhythmic motion of the needle a new kind of calming anchor.
**Scene 4: Rituals of Readiness – Nesting in Motion**
When Rimsha returned, bursting in with a bowl of vibrant fruit chaat, she immediately sensed the shift in atmosphere.
**Rimsha (placing the bowl down, peering at Maryam):** "Baji? You okay? You look... different. Calmer? Did Ubaid do something spectacular?"
**Maryam (smiling):** "Just had a chat with your Bhai. He has a way of... putting things in perspective." She patted the sofa beside her. "Sit. Tell me about your fruit chopping adventures."
**Rimsha (sitting, still studying her):** "He does, doesn't he? Like a human security blanket made of pure competence." She grinned. "So, what perspective did he bestow today?"
Maryam shared the calendar revelation and the subsequent phone call, highlighting Haroon's detailed preparations. Rimsha listened, wide-eyed.
**Rimsha (whistling softly):** "Wow. He really *has* thought of everything! The room, the bag, the routes... even Dr. Samina on speed dial *three* times! That's my Bhai!" She popped a piece of mango into her mouth. "So... what can *I* do? Besides force-feeding you fruit and being your personal foot masseuse?" Her eyes sparkled with eager readiness.
**Maryam (laughing):** "How about we do a final bag check? Your Bhai mentioned it was done, but... you know. Double-checking never hurt."
**Rimsha (jumping up):** "Operation: Ubaid's Launch Bag! Yes!" She dashed to the hallway and returned with the neatly packed hospital bag and the smaller diaper bag Haroon had prepared.
They spent the next hour going through everything with almost ceremonial care. Rimsha meticulously checked off items against the list taped inside the lid:
* **Maryam's Items:** Soft, new cotton nightgowns and robe, comfortable shalwar kameez for coming home, nursing bras, enormous comfortable underwear, socks, slippers, toiletries (unscented, as per Dr. Samina), lip balm, hair ties, phone charger, power bank.
* **Ubaid's Items:** Tiny newborn-size outfits (including the duckling sleeper and mint green one), mittens, hats, muslin cloths, receiving blankets, newborn diapers, wipes, baby soap/lotion (hypoallergenic).
* **Essentials:** Copies of Maryam's ID, NICOP, marriage certificate, hospital registration papers, insurance details, birth plan (typed and signed by Dr. Samina), snacks (dates, nuts, granola bars), water bottle, small Quran, small notebook and pen.
* **Haroon's Additions:** A new, incredibly soft throw blanket for Maryam, a small framed picture of them together from their last Eid, and a brand-new, unopened pack of Haroon's favourite mint gum.
**Rimsha (holding up the gum, grinning):** "See? Bhai even packed his own stress relief!"
**Maryam (touched by the thoughtfulness of the blanket and picture):** "He thinks of everything." Holding the tiny clothes, the reality felt different now. Not scary, but imminent and deeply right. The bags weren't just packed; they were *ready*. They were symbols of the threshold they were about to cross.
**Scene 5: The Quiet Vigil – Waiting with Love**
The afternoon passed quietly. Maryam napped, lulled by the sense of security Haroon's call and Rimsha's presence provided. Rimsha busied herself tidying the already tidy living room and preparing a simple, healthy lunch according to the food chart. Haroon arrived home precisely at 4:00 PM, shedding his office formality for comfortable home clothes. He immediately sought out Maryam, his eyes scanning her face.
**Haroon (sitting beside her on the sofa):** "How's my team holding up?"
**Maryam (smiling, taking his hand):** "Team Ubaid is prepped and ready, Captain. Rimsha executed a flawless bag inspection."
**Haroon (grinning at Rimsha):** "Excellent work, Lieutenant Rimsha." He looked back at Maryam, his gaze softening. "No changes? No twinges?"
**Maryam (shaking her head):** "Just the usual dance party in there. He's saving his grand entrance, it seems."
**Haroon (placing his hand on her bump, feeling the movement):** "Taking his time. Making an entrance worthy of his parents." He leaned in, kissing her forehead. "Good. Plenty of time for one last peaceful family dinner."
Dinner was a simple affair – grilled fish, steamed vegetables, brown rice – eaten with a sense of quiet companionship. Conversation was light, revolving around Eid plans now inevitably tied to Ubaid's arrival. Would he come before? During? After? The uncertainty was no longer fraught, but wrapped in a blanket of shared anticipation.
Later, as Maryam got ready for bed, the significance of the night pressed in. It could be their last night as just Haroon and Maryam. She stood in the nursery doorway, looking at the neatly arranged crib, the changing table stocked with supplies, the tiny clothes folded in the drawers. Haroon came up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist, his chin resting on her shoulder.
**Haroon (softly):** "Ready to meet him, meri jaan?"
**Maryam (leaning back into him, covering his hands with hers):** "More than ready. Bring on the forty-eight hours... or less." She turned in his arms, looking up at him. "Thank you, Haroon. For making the waiting feel safe."
**Haroon (brushing a strand of hair from her face):** "Always. Now, let's get some rest. Big days ahead." He guided her gently towards their room. "Everything is settled. Just focus on you and Ubaid. The world can wait."
As Maryam settled into bed, the rhythmic sound of Haroon's breathing beside her, the occasional kick from Ubaid within, she felt an unprecedented calm. The countdown clock was ticking, but it ticked within the strong, loving walls Haroon had built. The fortress was secure. The anchor was holding. They were ready. Whether it was two days, two hours, or two minutes, they would meet their son, Ubaid, together. The final vigil had begun, wrapped not in anxiety, but in the quiet, powerful certainty of their love and preparation.