Tina sat in the dark at the kitchen table, nursing a cooling cup of chamomile tea and trying to keep her panic at bay. She shivered slightly, but didn’t pull her robe any tighter around her body. That seemed like too much effort somehow, as if her arms were made of lead and too heavy to move. Moving, thinking, feeling. Everything had suddenly become overwhelming, and just as suddenly, Tina was completely paralyzed.

It had started during the natural childbirth class that evening. She and Bette were one of seven couples registered for the class, which included four other sets of first-time parents. The instructor, Rachel Minter, was a seasoned nurse midwife who had participated in many home births as well as hospital deliveries, so her perspective about both options was informed and balanced. In addition to her vast professional experience, Rachel brought a calming, straightforward energy to the discussions of developing a birthing plan, making choices about pain management, and preparing for labor and delivery.

“She is so great,” Bette whispered at one point, looking up briefly from the copious notes she was scribbling. “This is going to be an excellent class.”

Tina had merely smiled in return. She had no doubt that the sessions were going to be well-presented and very valuable. She and Bette had chosen this course from about 10 others specifically because of Rachel’s background and philosophy, and after listening to the tall, soft-spoken woman describe her agenda for the next several sessions, Tina was certain they had made the right decision.

But something wasn’t right. Something amorphous and indescribable. And the longer Tina sat in the dark, trying to grapple with the cause of her nebulous anxiety, the more anxious she became. Just as she thought she couldn’t bear it any more, she heard Bette making her way down the hall.

“Tina?” Bette asked sleepily, wandering into the kitchen. “Baby, what are you doing sitting in the dark?”

“Thinking,” Tina said quietly.

“Thinking about what?” Bette asked, joining her wife at the table.

Tina shook her head mutely, unable to explain the competing cascade of worries and ‘What ifs’ bouncing around in her head.

“Hey,” Bette said gently, tucking a lock of hair behind Tina’s ear. “What’s going on?”