"Now, do we have everything?" I love seeing Jean Luc this giddy!
Just as I suspected, we had some minor hiccups in getting out the door. It's silly really, but the minor hiccups primarily centred on me not being able to decide which pair of yoga pants to wear. "Yes. Did you comm. Wes to let him know?"
"Yes. I sent him a text." It's so cute to see him this excited. He's practically jumping up and down.
I start to do a mental count of the contractions. According to the car's clock, they're 20 minutes apart which puts me in the early stages of labour. I roll my eyes as the next wave of pain overtakes me; it's going to be a long, painful day.
Normally, the early stages of labour aren't traumatic. Like now, my contractions aren't terribly painful. They're uncomfortable, but truly not unbearable. Usually, this phase of labour happens over the course of a day or a few weeks. Though I didn't realize it at the time, the most probable reason behind so many of my false alarms was the early and gradual dilation of my cervix.
In women who have had a normal pregnancy, it's not usually requisite to head to the hospital as early as we are now. However, this hasn't been a normal pregnancy and we want to take every precaution. I told Hope that I wanted a foetal monitor during the entire duration labour. I want to know immediately if anything happens during the birth.
What I'm worried about is how well the stent is going to hold up upon the closure of the baby's ductus arteriosus, the foetal shunt between the pulmonary artery and the descending arch of aorta. In fact, it's just 2 cm proximal to where the stent was placed. I spoke with Jim Portland about it; he assured me that there was only a 10% chance of disruption to the stent, but still I want to be sure.
I'm having Hope deliver the baby. I trust her and she's been monitoring the pregnancy since she found out that I was pregnant. Moreover, it's important for me to have one person who I'm close to present during the delivery. When I gave birth to Wes, I had a resident perform the delivery. Oh it was so mortifying! Since Starfleet Medical is essentially a very exclusive teaching hospital, I must have had ten interns and two residents present during the delivery. And the worst part is that I knew some of them from younger years. It was possibly one of the most humiliating experiences of my life! This time, things are going to be different. County General does not take residents or interns and the only physician who's going to be in the room is Hope.
"Did you call Hope?"
How did he know I was thinking about that? "How did you know I was thinking about Hope?"
"I didn't," he grabs my hand, "but I knew you were thinking about something and I guessed you were thinking about the birth. You had that far off look."
"Yes. I called her while you were getting dressed. She's on her way as well. In truth, she really doesn't need to be there when we get there – but she said she wanted to be."
County General appears in the distance and suddenly the reality that we're going to be having a baby today is becoming real. "Hey," I turn to my husband and squeeze his free hand, "we're having a baby."