[ WP ] One day you die just as your daughter is about to go into labor . Then you are reincarnated as your own grandchild .

The cries of pain echoed around the delivery room, bouncing off the walls like overexcited children. The midwife was attempting to keep Kelly calm, while her husband Robert tried to hold her down and stop her struggling. Eventually, the contractions subsided for a minute or two. 
 
 Kelly lay there, breathing hard. She blew a strand of curly brown hair out of her eyes and glanced at the midwife.'I think I'll take the morphine after all,' she said. The midwife nodded and called for an anaesthesiologist. The man arrived moments later and administered the drug. Kelly relaxed a little as the midwife moved down to the business end of the bed. 
 
 I watched all this from my seat at the other end of the room. I did n't want to get involved just yet; this was Kelly and Robert's moment. Even though she was my daughter, they deserved this special time alone. I glanced up at the drifting balloon on the string above my head. The metallic words `` *It's A Boy! *'' gleamed dully in the shadows. 
 
 I wondered what my grandson would look like. Would he have the same brown hair and green eyes as Kelly and I did? Or would he take after his father and grow a mop of blond locks with blue eyes? Either way, I was looking forward to spending time with him in the years to come. 
 
 I suddenly doubled over in a fit of coughing, pulling my handkerchief from my pocket and covering my mouth with it until the coughing stopped. 
 
 At least, I was looking forward to spending time with him if I did n't die from coughing first. The respiratory problems that had plagued me for the last four years were getting worse. I had to fight them every day, but I was determined that they would n't take me down. 
 
 Just then, Kelly moaned again, a lot less loudly than before. There was something emerging from between her legs. The midwife reached out with gloved hands as Robert calmed Kelly and two orderlies bustled about with towels and such. I, for the time being, was forgotten, a mere onlooker. 
 
 As I waited for the crescendo of the orchestral piece that was the birth of my first grandchild, my mind wandered back to the last time I had actually talked to my daughter. Her mother's funeral had been a bleak and emotional affair for all of us. Tempers had flared, words had been shouted that could n't be taken back. I had regretted every day since. 
 
 It had been nearly three years since that fateful day, and we had n't spoken once in the interim. No birthday cards, no Christmas greetings, not even a phone call. Kelly acted as though her own father, her own dear old Joseph Muldoon, had never existed. It was a sorry state of affairs, but one I hoped I could still salvage. 
 
 A tiny mass of blood-covered pink flesh was now visible in the midwife's hands. Both she and Robert urged Kelly to push, which she did with a large amount of groaning. I watched in fascination. Then my lungs suddenly heaved and my throat constricted as I suffered another fit of coughing. 
 
 This one was worse than anything I had ever experienced before. The balloon floated from my grasp as I desperately reached for my handkerchief, bumping gently against the tiled ceiling. I struggled to remain seated upon the chair as I bent double, trying to get breath into my body as my throat seemed to shrink to the size of a straw. I gasped, feeling myself become weaker. 
 
 Then, with a sense of inevitability, I sank back in my chair, everything going black around me. The last thing I saw before darkness claimed me was the midwife lifting up a squalling infant, my daughter's face lighting up as she saw it. Despite my predicament, I smiled briefly. 
 
 I closed my eyes... 
 
 *** 
 
... and opened them again to blinding light. My lungs were suddenly going up and down like bellows, forcing a high cry from my mouth. I suddenly became aware of a pair of large hands cradling my body, and that I was suddenly being wrapped in some rough-feeling material. I welcomed the warmth, though. 
 
 Then I was being handed to someone else. This person's hands felt smaller, slimmer, as they cradled me in their arms. I half-opened my eyes and looked up. 
 
 Kelly's face looked back at me lovingly, her hair falling in tresses around her exhausted face. With a flash of insight, I suddenly understood what had happened. 
 
 I was the child. I had been reincarnated as my own grandson. 
 
 I heard voices from nearby, seemingly loud to my infant ears. From the sound of it, they had noticed my body. Kelly looked up and said something, but the towel wrapped around my head muffled her voice. I could see that she was in a certain amount of distress, though. 
 
 After a few minutes, tears began to roll down her cheeks as she realised what had happened to her father. She looked down at me and stroked my tiny head. Then she looked up at Robert. 
 
'I want to name him Joseph,' she said.'In memory of him.' 
 
 Robert nodded and kissed her as they both looked down on their newborn child. I gazed back at them, no longer crying. 
 
 Finally, I would have a second chance.
