An angel in the delivery room

Shortly after Lauren was born, someone suggested that Tim and I might want to set up a carepage to let everyone know the latest information. Three years later, I transitioned so that nearly all of my updates while she waited for her heart transplant were on this blog. I realized recently that I've never written down the story of her birth or the story of the lady I consider my angel in the delivery room. I'll be sharing "years ago" stories as I'm blogging through the alphabet for the next 26 weeks, and I can't think of a better story to start with than this one.

Lauren's birth story isn't quite complete until I paint the picture of just how crazy our week was. On Tuesday, I had a check-up appointment in the OB clinic. On Wednesday, Brennan had his tonsils and adenoids removed. I spent the night with him in the hospital and came home on Thursday. On Friday, I started wondering when the last time I had felt Lauren move. She was wedged tightly against my breastbone but I couldn't remember any specific instances of feeling her wiggle in the past day or so. After phoning  the OB clinic, I loaded up Brennan and Addison and drove to the hospital for monitoring. Somewhere as we cruised along the beltway, I started having contractions. Somewhere as I searched for a parking spot in, the contractions got worse.

Later that night, I was settled into a bed and hooked up to medicines to stop the preterm labor.

Early the next morning, one of the residents came by to do an ultrasound. Something wasn't working quite right with the machine, though, and he stepped out into the hallway to look for someone who could help.

An older lady offered to help. I can't remember if she was a midwife or a nurse practitioner, but she was willing to help. She figured out how to get the sonogram machine to work, but unfortunately also figured out that there was something very wrong with the baby.

She stayed with me the rest of the morning.

An hour or so later, Tim and I were in another room for a more detailed ultrasound. I remember the NICU attending doctor standing in the corner looking grim, and it wasn't long before they decided it would be better for Lauren to be born sooner rather than later.

As they wheeled me to the operating room, my angel stayed with us. As they prepped me for a c-section, she assured me that everyone was taking good care of my baby. As teams of medical professionals entered the room, she told me that she'd be there beside me through the whole thing. (She was on one side of me, and Tim was on the other.)

Moments later, the NICU team started to rush out the doors with Lauren in a bassinet. My angel insisted that they wheel the bassinet around the operating table so that I could catch a glimpse of my new little girl.

When I had my postpartum check-up, I asked about the lady who had stayed with me through the delivery. She retired sometime shortly after Lauren was born. In fact, one doctor thought that she had just finished her last shift in the hospital when she stopped to help fix a problem with an ultrasound machine.

In my mind, she'll always be the angel in the delivery room that morning.

A is for Angel, the first in this round of Blogging through the Alphabet. For the next 25 weeks, I'll be sharing a "years ago" story corresponding to each letter of the alphabet. I often tell my children stories of things that have happened in our past, and now I'm taking the time to write down those treasured stories.

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