Friday the 13th, A Sneaky Baby, and One Wild Ride

It all started on a fateful Friday the 13th—because of course it did. Mama Abigail had a routine ultrasound appointment at the Eastside Gynecologist in Macomb when the doctors noticed that baby’s heart rate dipped into the low 90s and stayed there for a few seconds. Concerned, they advised her to head straight to Beaumont Hospital in Grosse Pointe.

Meanwhile, Daddy was waiting in the parking lot, probably scrolling on his phone, when he suddenly saw Mama crying. Panicked, he jumped out of the car. “What’s wrong?” he asked. Mama, trying to stay calm, simply said, “Vik, we’ve got to go to the hospital.”

And just like that, Daddy’s heart rate probably dipped into the 90s, too.

He rushed to get Mama and baby Oliver to the hospital, letting work know on the way. His boss, thankfully, was understanding and told him to take all the time he needed.

The First Hospital Stay

At Beaumont, Mama was admitted to room #465 in the labor and delivery section. Nurses checked on her and baby Oliver, whose heart rate was hovering around 130 but with occasional sluggishness. To perk him up, they put Mama on an IV of lactated Ringer’s solution—essentially baby’s first energy drink. It worked like a charm. Soon, Oliver was showing off his excitement through Doppler spikes.

All seemed well, but after several hours, his heart rate dropped again—right in the middle of an ultrasound. Daddy watched the screen intently, seeing baby Oliver for the first time in live action. At one point, he asked the doctor, “Which direction is Oliver facing?” The doctor smiled and said, “Towards you, Daddy. He knows you’re there!”

Cue the collective parental melting.

Despite that sweet moment, the nurses weren’t comfortable sending Mama home just yet. Baby Oliver needed more monitoring, so they recommended transferring her to St. John’s Hospital, where more specialists could keep an eye on things.

Daddy made a quick pit stop at home to check on Grandma Chauhan and the dogs before meeting Mama at St. John’s. Meanwhile, Mama got an exclusive VIP ride in an ambulance—probably not the luxury ride she had in mind for the day.

The Next Hospital Stay

At St. John’s, Mama and Daddy settled into room #8 on the 5th floor—a much nicer setup, which was good, because they were in for the long haul.

That night, Mama and Daddy did their best to rest. Daddy got a surprisingly decent bed, but Mama had the added challenge of needing frequent bathroom breaks. Enter Hannah, a kind and patient nurse who helped her every time.

In the morning, Mama, ever the thoughtful one, ordered Daddy a breakfast feast—omelet with mushrooms, bacon, ham, cheese, turkey sausage links, and hash browns. It smelled amazing. The catch? Mama wasn’t allowed to eat real food. She was on an IV-only diet. Talk about unfair.

Later, Doctor Chen checked in, reassuring them that while Oliver had a habit of holding his breath (a naughty little quirk), he was doing just fine. Another ultrasound confirmed that he was floating happily in a good amount of amniotic fluid.

Things were looking up… until night fell.

The Naughty Business Begins

As soon as it got dark, Oliver decided it was time to test everyone’s nerves again. Throughout the night, his heart rate dropped four or five times, sending Mama and Daddy into a state of constant worry.

Sleep? What’s that?

By morning, things weren’t improving, and Mama and Daddy had had enough. They told the doctors, “Alright, it’s time. This boy needs to come out so we can talk some sense into him.”

Doctor Katherine Johnson agreed. “Let’s bring Oliver out.”

Mama was rushed to the operating room for a C-section. Daddy was right by her side, holding her hand as the doctors and nurses worked their magic. At exactly 11:03 AM on Sunday, November 15, 2020, baby Oliver made his grand entrance into the world.

Daddy kissed Mama through their face masks and said, “I love you, honey.” Mama smiled, tears in her eyes.

Oliver? Well, he wasn’t thrilled about this turn of events. He came out wailing, clearly upset that he’d been caught and evicted from his comfy little home.

The NICU Stay

Oliver was taken to the NICU, where the nurses laid down the law.

“He’s caused quite the trouble,” Nurse Maysa informed Daddy. “He’ll need to prove he’s a good boy before he can go home.”

Daddy looked at Oliver and said, “Olly, Maysa is right. You need to behave.”

Oliver let out a small cry—probably his version of, “Okay, Dad, I’ll try.”

The next day, Mama visited Oliver and reached through the incubator to touch him. He responded immediately, soaking in her warmth and love. “Pretty soon, Olly,” she reassured him. “You just need to show us your best behavior.”

That night, Oliver made a breakthrough. He no longer needed the CPAP machine to help him breathe. When Mama and Daddy visited the next day, he proudly showed off his progress. “Look, Mama and Daddy! No more CPAP—just this little tube now!”

Graduation from the NICU

Oliver quickly outgrew the NICU and was moved to a different baby care area. Mama was discharged and had to return home, but due to COVID restrictions, only one parent could visit at a time. Naturally, Mama made all the visits, while Daddy got detailed reports.

Then, the big moment arrived—Oliver was officially ready to go home! This time, both Mama and Daddy were allowed to come in and take their little bundle of joy home together.

And that, ladies and gentlemen, is the story of how Oliver made his dramatic debut into the world—a little naughty, a little stubborn, but absolutely perfect.

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