Today it was a little toddler named Riley Ann or known as Baby Grace. A little girl that was beaten to death by her MOTHER and stepfather. I had heard about the story. And since having my daughter - crimes against children send a potent chill down my spine. But this got me:
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I just about threw up on my desk. Tears stung my eyes. I couldn't get out work fast enough to grab my little girl and hold her close. How the fuck does a mother do that? How do you raise a hand like that when your child is saying 'I love you'? That little girl will haunt my dreams.
Wednesday morning, we slept in. I was instructed to call first thing - which for me was 8am. I was told to call back at noon. We informed the family that nothing was happening yet. Meanwhile, we paced and got things ready. I checked and reorganized our hospital bags. A little before noon, I called them. "Yeah, come right in," the woman said. "Right now?" I asked....somehow not really ready for this. "Yup." It was weird leaving the house know it would never be the same again.
The ride to the hospital was loong and yet seemed very quick. I was ushered into a room and changed into a johnny. They checked to see how far along I was and hooked up my IV for fluid and eventually pitocin.
3PM- They start the pitocin. Family starts flying to the hospital. Our phone is ringing off the hook.
5PM- Family shows up and contractions have started. They are uncomfortable, but far from unbearable. The family starts to get on our nerves. The moms are very concerned how long this will take. My nurse Kari delivers the bad news that it could a long night.
7PM- Contractions are getting stronger. We have kicked the family out. They were driving me crazy. Scott updates them on my progress. I have now cycled through 2 nurses and now we have Cindy.