Around 3am we cut Paul's hair, he got ready and we packed our bag. When we decided to leave about 4am I was pacing the floor and not looking forward to driving in the car 30 minutes to the hospital, and my wonderful husband decided that we were going to skip the stop at his classroom on the way there and he called his sub line from home and sent an email to his principal. I'll admit it was a rough car ride and the worry was starting to get a little heavier as the contractions barely ended before another one started.
We managed to sign the papers at the front desk and the race was on to the elevator. (Paul thought he could beat me! But I managed to keep up because I was starting to feel Max wanting his way out...NOW!). Luckily, I was confident in my nurse (in case the doctor didn't make it in time) and luckily they managed to catch the resident on the way out the door (since my doctor, who literally lives a block away, didn't make it in time) and Max was born at 4:42am in the triage room. Thank goodness for fast driving husbands and fast working nurses! He already has two nicknames: Insta-baby and At the Buzzer.
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