At 2 a.m. on Sammy's due date, January 29, I am puttering around the house because I'm so uncomfortable I can't sleep. Sometimes I scowl at Danny who is sleeping peacefully, but lets be honest, this isn't really helpful. Sometimes I try to eat, but since my stomach has been squashed to the size of a cherry tomato and relocated up north to somewhere between my lungs, I can't really eat either.Suddenly, my water breaks! Contractions start right away. "Danny!" I gasp, gouging my fingers into his side. Danny's response is to grab the camera and begin visually chronicling my pain. I say terribly mean things to him, which he deserves. We arrive at the hospital around 3:30 a.m.
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