Thankfully, hailing a cab in New Orleans is pretty easy and in no time we were back at the apartment. I noticed Maggie’s breathing was labored as we climbed the stairs. She kept gasping, then she said as she gripped my hand, “Baby, I think we need to call Dr. Henderson. It feels like Layla has turned.”

Not really knowing what she meant, but concerned, I immediately helped her into the bedroom and propped her feet up on a few pillows. Then I said, “Okay, sweetheart, I’m calling him right now. I’ll tell his nurse we need to come in right way.”

Going into the kitchen, I looked up the number and called Dr. Henderson. A receptionist answered the phone and I said, “Hello, my name is Jim Hart and my wife Maggie is a patient of Dr. Henderson. She’s 36 weeks pregnant and this morning she started experiencing some pain. She said something about the baby had turned and, well, we need to see Dr. Henderson right away!”

The receptionist said, “Okay, Mr. Hart, let me check with Dr. Henderson’s nurse. Can you hold a moment?” Before I could answer she put me on hold. I called out to Maggie in the bedroom, “You doing okay, babe?” No answer.