Meg said that it was baby day. We both tried to get back to sleep and did -- at least I did -- for a little while. It was about 3:00 in the morning. I was excited, but something felt different than 3 years prior when AJ was born.I took our 3-year-old-to-be to my parents' house. He knew his baby sister was going to be joining our family. When I got back to the house, Meg was eating breakfast in between contractions. She knew that once at the hospital, her sustenance would consist of little more than ice chips.
We got in the car and headed down to the hospital. Meg knows that if I don't have coffee in the morning, I'll get a really bad headache. She asked if I wanted to stop, but I said no. As we got closer to the hospital, we hit a lot of morning rush hour and school traffic. We were stopped at a light where there was a Wawa. Since her offer still stood, I pulled in and got some coffee and a breakfast sandwich. When I got back to the car, I really noticed just how uncomfortable she was. The contractions were getting pretty intense.
Meg was supposed to have an ultrasound that morning at her OB's. At her previous visit, the doctor wasn't 100% sure that Abby was head down. She had been, and most likely still was, but they wanted to be sure. At the hospital, she was evaluated in a triage room. She had a lot of extra amniotic fluid and I could see the concern growing on the faces of the doctors and nurses. I asked if everything was OK. Unconvincingly, they said yes.
She asked for something for the pain, but there was nothing they could do. She was 9cm already. Between contractions, they tried to check Abby's positioning with the ultrasound. She was pushing. They told her to breathe. If you breathe, you can't push.
She was head down and we were wheeled into the delivery room. They told us she'd deliver as soon as they broke her water. There were a lot of people in the room. They broke her water and the doctor examined the fluid on her fingers. It was streaked with meconium.
The NICU staff was there and the warming table was heating up. She looked at me and told me she was scared. So was I. She started pushing. She was making good progress, but Abby's heart rate was going down.
They told her she needed to deliver now. And she did.
She was beautiful.
And so was Abby.
To be continued . . .











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