Wednesday, March 10, 2010


The evening progressed with its up and downs. Plans came and went so often I stopped keeping track. Would I stay the night in the hospital here or an hour away in Seattle, would I be air-lifted to Seattle or  transported via ambulance, would I have this baby girl tonight? Lots of questions with no certain answers.

My father was with me by now and had received the very good news that my husband had managed to catch the last plane out of Anchorage. The final plan was I was going to stay the night in the hospital and my team would decide what to do in the morning. My dad and I were relieved because the thought of taking an hour car ride to Seattle where I lived, when we didn’t even know for sure if my bleeding had stopped or had just slowed down because I was lying down, was not something either of us wanted to find out. When the doctor came in and told me I was there for the night, for the first time in six hours, I sighed a breath of relief.

We seemed stable for the night and I convinced my father to go home. He refused but somehow I convinced him to go. I confidently told him not to worry, my husband was on his way, and I would not be alone if our circumstances changed in the middle of the night. No one knew what our daughter and my body were going to do. Even though I was still contracting, it seemed we were out of immediate danger. Just to be sure, I was given one more round of anti-contraction medicine and that kept the contractions at bay. Good thing this was my second child for I knew the signs of labor and what my body was cueing me during this journey. That seemed to be all I knew for sure.

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