“Okay Bae. Let’s go.” he said. We knew it was time to wake up our older children and leave for the hospital. So my husband had just returned from loading our sleepy children into the van. But I couldn’t move. “Should I call 911?” he asked as calmly as he could. I felt like I was watching a movie. I had labored for a couple of hours and clocked what I thought were impossibly close contractions coming one right after another, when I realized, we would never make it. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” I said. I really didn’t want to traumatize my husband. I was the one who had been present for a hundred births. I knew what it was like to stand with and support a birthing woman. And although this was baby number 4, I knew this wasn’t the role he was used to. But there we ... Read More