Emergency care, American style.
[Author's note: This entry was originally written in January 2012. It was originally sent to a smaller circle of family and friends on Facebook as a way of explaining in one go what happened at the end of my pregnancy. However I have decided to publish the original draft on my journal since Facebook is not the best way to present, locate, or archive long postings.] Since Facebook updates are best for bite-sized portions of information, I have decided to explain why I've been scarce lately. I include a tiny disclaimer- everything that happened in this story is true, however I might have a few things out of order due to circumstances beyond my control. Memory is funny that way. For 37 weeks, I had what most people would describe as a normal, uneventful pregnancy. I'd been taking my vitamins regularly, eating as varied a diet one could manage in Ashgabat, and keeping busy. Everything was fine, and nothing was out of the ordinary. I'd picked out my OBGYN back home...