Maybe, just maybe...

Lying on the couch, waiting for the ambulance...I had never hated living in the country more than I did at that moment.  It seemed like it took them an eternity to get to our house.  Our small town of Sheridan doesn't have their own ambulatory service, we use the county.  But we do have a small group of first responders.  These people arrive before the ambulance and attempt to provide help. 

When they arrived, they looked at me and immediately asked how far along I was.  I responded, "34 weeks and 5 days".    They were surprised.  They had been told I was 12 weeks along.  They tried to calm me down...put an oxygen mask on me.  But I just couldn't take it.  Here these people were...trying to help me and all I could think was "get out of my way!  I've got to go!  Where's the ambulance?!?" 

One of the ladies asked me, "Ma'am, is there a reason you won't leave the oxygen mask on?"  And totally out of character, I snapped back.."because I'm not an idiot!  I don't need oxygen!  I need to go!"

I laid there on the couch, looking at a large photo of Max that hangs next to the fireplace.  As I stared at his picture, the same lady commented, "It'll be okay.  The Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away."  With tears in my eyes, I just shook my head and told her she didn't understand.  I'm a pretty calm, patient person.  But at that moment, if I hadn't feared harming my baby, I would have probably punched her in the nose. 

Once the ambulance finally arrived I felt some relief.  I knew we would be getting help soon.  The paramedic on the ambulance crew was great.  But again, it seemed like it took forever before we actually left the house.  He had to check all my vital signs, check my bleeding and start an IV.  Patiently, I prayed....God's will be done.  Everything was completely out of my control at this point. 

Aaron rode in the front of the ambulance and we flew down the highway towards Eagle Lake, lights flashing, sirens blaring.  In the back of the ambulance, the paramedic asked me if I would mind taking my shirt off.  I thought it was a funny question.  There I am, sitting with no pants or panties on, holding a bloody towel between my legs and he was kind enough to think I had an ounce of shame left in me.  When in reality, I would have marched naked through the streets if it had meant helping Madden survive. 

I was surprised how quickly we actually arrived at the hospital.  We must have been going really fast.  As we pulled in, there were people waiting to help us.  And I was so thankful...I saw a familiar face.  The on-call doctor was a family friend.  He knew us.  He knew our story.  And I knew he would do everything he possibly could to save our son. 

They wheeled us back to the labor and delivery room.  And I couldn't help but think..."this was the place that I did not want to be."  I chose to change doctors and to deliver Madden in Victoria because I didn't want to be in this room...the room where I delivered and first held Max.  But there I was...in the same exact room, in the exact same bed. 

I just kept telling them they needed to get the baby out.  All of the staff was calm.  They checked for the baby's heartbeat.  And they immediately found it.  His heart was beating strong.  There were no signs of distress.  The doctor knew I was bleeding a lot, but he had seen similar bleeding before, and the baby sounded good.  He called for an ultrasound technician and left the room to call my doctor.  And at that moment, I had hope.  And I found myself thinking once again..."maybe, just maybe."