(And he did barrel, believe me. Not only was he five weeks early, but two hours after checking in, about the time everyone had settled in believing it would be a long night, we rang the nurse to say, "I feel like I need to push." She looked at me, panicked and said, "You can't push, the doctor just went to dinner!")
Mom, Dad, Jeanne and Tom watched as the doctor ran from the cafeteria, sliding into the chair just in time to catch my boy.
A boy? The care and feeding of a boy was a scary prospect. After all, I was one of three daughters born to a mother who was one of three daughters, each of whom had girls.
But it was my doctor, who helped me realize that whether it is a boy or a girl—babies need the same basics: They need to cry—it's how they communicate. They need to sleep. They need to eat. They need to feel clean and safe. And they need to be loved.
My second boy was clear even before day one: He was not his brother. That boy lingered for two weeks past his due date, leaving everyone—OK, just me—thinking he would never be born.
This time it was Dana driving down Lake Shore Drive through rush hour traffic. And this time, nothing was quick, nor was it easy. We got another beautiful baby boy, but there was a moment my midwife thought I wouldn't make it.
So, it was Mom, Vicki and Jeanne who held the hands of my husband and my first boy during those long weeks of bed rest that followed. They played with my boy, planned his birthday party and made me laugh through what easily could have been a very difficult time.
Babies are amazing. But babies are not easy. There are too many questions and too few hours in the day.
It helps when someone is there to hold your hand—especially that first year. We kept that in mind when pulling together Chicago Baby. We want the news and information on these pages to be one of many hands helping you.
We hope you agree.