Morgan Kate

Last year August 14th was a Thursday. 

Last year August 14th was my first day back to work from a wonderful summer vacation. 

Last year on August 14th I was 24 weeks and 1 day pregnant.

Last year August 14th was a changing day. I was shaken. I was scared. I was terrified of what was to come.

I returned to work after a fun-filled, pregnant summer. We typically have a theme for the first day back or a special request. Last year we were to wear our favorite t-shirt. I knew exactly what I was going to wear.

 

We mingled. We talked. We ate. I worked in my room. I walked the halls. I sat in meetings. Around 3pm I left for a 3:30 appointment with my OB. There were papers all over my desk. Name tags that still needed names. Lesson plans that still needed planning.

It wasn't a scheduled or routine appointment. For several days prior to the appointment I had been experiencing a watery discharge. (Sorry for all the information.) I had called about it and was told that it was normal and things like that happened during pregnancy. I wasn't convinced. I just couldn't shake the thought that this was my water slowly leaking. Travis had been to every appointment prior to that time. Every single one. But this time I told him that I could handle it. I would run in and run out and be home in no time.

Three hours later I was still at the doctor's office. I was sitting in a recliner hooked up to various monitors and machines. Not only did I have a watery discharge, but I was 1cm dilated and 50% effaced. I was alone. I was shocked. Terrified. Scared to death. I could barely move or breathe or even talk. I was surrounded by three doctors from the practice and two nurses. But I never cried. Never shed a tear. And when the doctors told me that I could not return to work and that I was on bed rest, I even protested a little. I tried explaining that I was a teacher. And that today was only my first day. And that there were kids and other adults depending on me. It didn't matter. They weren't concerned with my school, or my co-workers, or my students. They were only concerned with me and my baby.

My cell phone was on the front seat of my car. I couldn't call Travis. I couldn't call my mom. I couldn't call anyone. And I really didn't want to. I didn't know what to say or do. By this time the doctor's office was completely empty. Everyone had left except for me, my OB and one extremely nice nurse. She sat with me. She brought me water. She shared her experiences of pregnancy. She talked about things that didn't involve babies or pregnancy. She stayed with me until I walked out the door at 6:30. The minute I walked out of the door I began to cry.

I got in the car and just sat there and cried. What was I going to tell Travis? What were we going to do? Were we going to be okay? And more importantly, was our baby girl going to be okay? I wasn't supposed to be dilated or effaced. I wasn't supposed to be on bed rest. I was supposed to be pregnant and stay pregnant for many, many more weeks. Our baby still had a lot of growing and developing to do.

I picked up my phone. There were numerous missed calls. Travis. Travis. My mom. My mom. Travis. Owens. Travis. My mom. Owens. I called Travis, but all I could do was sob. I drove home through tears. My eyes were so blurry. I finished talking to Travis and then called my mom. 

The minute I walked through the door at home Travis was there. He just held me and for a long time we didn't say anything.

Little did I know what we were in store for. Little did I know what the next days were going to have hold for us. Little did I know that our baby girl was going to arrive in just ten days.

Little did I know what August 14th would look like only a year later.

Boy, I sure do like the way this August 14th looks.