Linda Kerandi

My (former) wife is very crunchy granola. So when she was pregnant, she wanted midwives, not a hospital. But because we weren't fools, we went with midwives who had a birthing center IN THE HOSPITAL. But that never happened. Instead, seven weeks before the due date, we were at a check-up at the midwife center (a few blocks from St. Luke's Roosevelt Hospital). One of the Scandinavian midwives (they were all Nordic) was listening for the heartbeat. Which was very slow (babies normally have a rapid heartbeat). "That's my heartbeat, right?" said my wife. The midwife said nothing to us, but looked worried, and, after a few moments of moving around the heartbeat monitor, called out, "Inga, Svenga, Helga!" and the other midwives came pouring in like the Swedish cavalry. It was quite impressive. They intently moved my wife's body around until the baby's heartbeat popped up again. And then they said we HAD to go to the hospital NOW to get this checked out. Smart midwives. Turns out the cord was wrapped around our gremlin's neck. Three tense days at the hospital and on the third night, after taking steroids to help develop his lungs (my wife was reluctant but went along), our kid was born via c-section 7 weeks early, 4 lbs 8 oz. Now he's a hulking 5'11" and doing great (age 26), but man, I'm glad hospitals are a thing!