required flexibility.
At least, that was what I believed at 8:47.
At 9:26, I saw my husband inside the maternity wing of a hospital in Columbus, Ohio.
I had finished my glucose screening and was heading toward the elevator when I heard voices near labor and delivery.
“Please slow down. I’m trying.”
A young woman leaned heavily against Adrian.
She looked around twenty-five, with dark hair stuck to her forehead and one hand supporting an enormous pregnant belly.
Adrian had an arm around her waist.
His other hand
