Back to the Beginning

After an easy, typical pregnancy, I went in for an ultrasound at 26 weeks and 6 days.  At this follow up from the day prior, the doctor was concerned with the low amniotic fluid and the low growth our little guy was exhibiting.  I expected the doctor to have me increase my water, add more protein to my diet, and maybe take some folic acid and schedule a follow up in a week. 

My placenta was not doing its job and Little Long wasn't getting the nutrients he needed. What came next was something neither Matthew nor I expected or was prepared for.   After trying to soften the situation, the doctor told us she was admitting me to the hospital so the baby could be monitored and that we should plan to deliver sometime in the coming hours or weeks.  "You'll be hospitalized until you deliver this baby," I remember her saying.  

In addition to thinking about a sub, the book orders that needed to go home, the laundry that needed to be moved to the dryer, the meeting I was hosting in my room the next day, the bills that had to be paid, and the chicken that was thawing in the fridge, I was not ready to deliver a baby.  A premature baby.  The doctor told us we'd have to change our hospital delivery plans of Overlake (due to their lack of a level 3 NICU, unable to care for babies as young as mine, should I deliver soon) to Evergreen or one of the downtown hospitals.  

We chose Evergreen in that moment knowing it had a great reputation and was on the Eastside.  The doctor left us to make some phone calls and we sat in the room in shock, then in tears, and eventually pulled ourselves together enough to head to Evergreen.  I have never been so thankful to have my husband sitting by my side as I was in those moments.