Go Time

Thursday morning started out quiet. There was even talk of moving us back to Ante Partum. That wouldn’t last. The bleeding started again. I got dressed, put my cell phone in one pocket and my camera in the other. I knew what was about to happen. The door slammed open and an army of nurses rushed in. There was no announcement. There were no protests. Just two very worried soon to be parents. She was whisked out of the room so fast, there was no time to say anything. A nurse hurriedly persuaded me to put scrubs on. I had two phone calls to make. I took a deep breath and did my best to sound calm and relaxed. I wasn’t. I called Trish’s mom to tell her we were going in for the C-section. She didn’t understand, she thought everything was stable. So had I. As I did my best to hide the nervousness in my voice and reassure her, nurses in scrubs were holding the doors to the OR open waving me in. I had to go. The call to my mom was much different. “Mom, we’re going in.” “I’m on my way.”