The price of a Subway sandwich.

The thought struck me a few moments ago that I've not said thank you to all of you who've been following us these past months, and sending us your love, thoughts and prayers. It's meant so much to us. And on that sentimental note, I'll do a 180 and share a story from this past week that I think will amuse you.

Last Monday, just before noon and the end stages of my labor, the doctor told E he would have time to run and grab a bite to eat. After all, he needed sustenance. The real action was about to begin.

I know what you're probably thinking. Sounds reasonable so far. We had been there for hours. What happened next is where those thoughts might start to wane. Instead of running upstairs to the hospital cafeteria for a sandwich, E decided it was really Subway he wanted. (Interesting that in all the drama, he actually had a yen for something specific rather than simply filling his empty tank...) In his defense, I had not fully dilated, so, eh. And Subway was just down the street.

Anyway, while he was out, the action started. The doctor rushed in. It was time to push. But where was E, she asked. Still at Subway? My dad runs out to try and find him. He had actually had time have grabbed a sandwich and already returned.

Meanwhile, the contractions are getting stronger. And the doctor is saying, we can wait. Let's wait for your husband. It was at that moment that I said, let's start without him. Seriously. I didn't feel like I could hold back. Big loss, but at that point, unavoidable I felt. (Sad, but true. The pressure!Felt like I was trying to hold back a train!)

Just about that time, E appears in the doorway. He made it! Turns out, he had decided to dine-in. Interesting decision.

To think, he almost missed the arrival of his firstborn for a Subway sandwich.