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Thirteen years ago, I waled into L&D at 9 centimeters dilated, except, I was not in labor. The nurses fussed and fawned over me, but I felt great for 34.5 weeks pregnant, especially after being on bedrest for 3 weeks (and on Magnesium Sulfate twice.)

Attention was diverted from me to the woman laboring in the room next door. Her baby had passed. That was the closest I had been to such tragedy. Little did I know, one day it would be me.

A few contractions were helped along with a little pitocin. Within 15 minutes I was 10 centimeters.

The doctor said he was grunting. The NICU was called and my baby was transferred to another hospital, but he still didn’t have a name.

Nathaniel or Evan?

We went back and forth. He siblings wanted to name him John Jacob Jingleheimer Schmidt! 6 hours passed, but I couldn’t leave until I filled out the birth certificate papers.

Evan means “young warrior.” I hoped he would live up to his name, and he has. In 10 days he was home on an apnea monitor, but he was home.

This boy brings so much joy to my life. He loves waffles, and LEGOs, and robots. He is an amazing kid.










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