through the pouring rain towards the main house. It was a dangerous thing to do, but both of us feared more for little Peanut’s safety than our own. I could feel the electricity in the air as I clung to Auggie, who raced to the car like we had the devil on our tails.
We kind of did.
He put me in the passenger side of his Alda before running around to the driver’s side. He was dripping wet as he started the car. Just as we backed out, we saw lightning hit a tree in the pasture nearby, cracking it right in two.
“I think I rather prefer zombies,” he muttered as he gunned the engine and sped out onto the dirt road.
He programmed the navigation to get us to the nearest hospital, which was still about ten minutes away. He broke every speeding law to get there, even in the driving rain. At that point, I was less concerned about the risk that posed. If my baby died, I wanted to die, too. There was no other alternative.
Finally, we got to the hospital. He had called ahead, so they were waiting for us with a gurney. They took us up to Labor and Delivery, where we were put into a cheerfully decorated maternity room to wait for a doctor. Auggie stayed at my side, his hand in mine, trying to comfort me. “It’s going to be okay.” He touched my tummy. “Hang in there, Big Guy.”
I couldn’t stop the tears if I wanted. At last, the doctor came in. We explained how far along I was and that I was bleeding, and he kindly calmed us while he performed his examination. “You’re no longer bleeding,” he commented. “Let’s get a sonogram and see what’s happening under the hood.”
I nodded, relieved to know at least the bleeding had stopped. When the sonogram rolled in, the doctor spread the cold goo all over my tummy and used the wand to project a visual on the screen. The instant we heard the heartbeat, I burst into new tears. It beat loud and strong.
“Oh, my God,” Auggie said. His face filled with wonder as his eyes met mine.
The old country doctor was instantly reassuring. “I see the problem,” he said gently. “You see this?” he said, pointing to the screen. We nodded. “That’s the placenta. Normally it attaches itself at the top of the uterus, but in about 1 of 200 pregnancies, it sits a bit lower, near the cervix. It’s a condition called placenta previa.”
“Is it dangerous?” Auggie asked.
“Where it’s situated this early in the pregnancy, no. Placenta previa found in the second trimester often fixes itself. But I recommend keeping track of it as we get closer to delivery. Once the cervix begins to efface and dilate, it can cause the blood vessels to tear, which can lead to severe bleeding. This could be dangerous for both your wife and your baby.”
We shared a glance.
“I recommend taking it easy and keeping an eye on it. But everything looks great otherwise. Would you like to know the gender?”
I was shocked. “I didn’t know you could tell this early.”
“It’s early,” he agreed. “But your baby is in the right position.” He indicated the spot on the screen, which neither of us could make any sense of.
“What is that?” Auggie asked.
“That’s your son,” the doctor answered cheerfully.
Auggie sank down onto the bed beside me. His eyes welled with tears as he looked down at me. He said no words, but his kiss told me everything.
We were discharged from the hospital with conservative treatment plan, including pelvic rest. That meant no hanky-panky, but after everything that went down, I was pretty sure Auggie and I had already decided on that plan ourselves. Neither one of us wanted to go through that panic again. “We’ll wait until after he’s born,” Auggie promised, kissing my hand as he drove us back to the farm. And for the first time, I honestly believed he would be there after August.
I got all mushy when I thought about my little boy. It wasn’t some feeling or wishful thinking anymore. It was confirmed. I was having a son. I held my tummy dreamily as I watched rural Georgia race by. Now I could think about names. I could fill in the picture in my head. He was coming clearer into focus.
My baby. My son.
Despite how upsetting the afternoon had been, I felt serene and at peace now. I had one purpose; protect my