The ambulance raced through Manhattan with sirens blaring. Katherine was in critical condition, and our baby boy was delivered but was barely breathing.
We were at Manhattan Presbyterian, the same hospital where Rose was born years ago. It's a full circle with the memories flooding back.
An emergency team was ready. They were waiting and already prepared.
Katherine was rushed immediately to the operating room, where they were trying to perform a hemorrhage control, which was life-threatening, as she was bleeding.
Our baby boy was rushed to the NICU at 26 weeks of gestation. He weighed 2 pounds 4 ounces and was extremely premature and fragile.
I was torn because I couldn't be in two places at once. It was either Katherine or the baby, which was an impossible choice.
Luca's hand was on my shoulder, reassuringly. "I'll stay with the baby. You stay with Katherine. Go."
The hours were endless as I waited, terrified, and prayed to anything that might be listening.
