The final weeks of a first pregnancy can be simultaneously exhilarating and frightening. You're struck with ambivalence; on the one hand you can't wait for this bump to come out, and on the other hand, this bump has got to come out!

As you should, you continue to take it easy, watch your weight, eat healthfully and keep your fluids up. Each week you visit your OB/GYN for an update on events.

I was as conscientious as any first-time pregnant woman could possibly be and did all the things I was supposed to. It was an early morning in June, and I had the first appointment of the day with my doctor, after which I would be on my way to work.

I remember that day so well; the obstetrical nurse checked my weight (205 pounds – yikes!), put the cuff on my arm and squeezed (210/120 – whoa), and checked my urine output (dang, missed the cup again!). I was invited into the examination room to wait for my doctor.

After about 20 minutes of me sitting uncomfortably (I had to use the bathroom again) dressed in a paper sack that nowhere near covered my girth, my doctor finally dropped in. "How's it going? Any problems? Let me look you over."

He pulled out this little anvil and started hitting me; that's a new procedure that I'm not familiar with. I thought the hammer was just a movie prop. After each tap, he murmured, "Good" "Good" "Good." So I was thinking, "Good."

"Okay, Barb, why don't you get dressed and meet me in my office in a few minutes," he told me.

Obviously, I was not expecting anything major, maybe just another warning about my swollen ankles or my 4-pound weight gain.

"Barb, we're going to admit you and start an induction, right now," the doctor said. What?! What?! OK, I was not ready for this. He kept saying, "Good." What the heck was he talking about? When I zoned back into the room, I heard him say, "... blood pressure's too high ... condition called pre-eclampsia ... risk of seizure to the baby ... call your husband ... blah blah blah ..."

No. No way. I've got to go to work, I thought. They're counting on me. I'm the secretary! And today's my husband's birthday. He's out celebrating with his friends! My baby can't be born on my husband's birthday. He needs his own birthday! All these totally irrational thoughts went whizzing through my head.

I was led to a phone to call my husband, who was not home, so I left a message on the answering machine. No sense in me panicking alone, I thought.

Needless to say, I had little choice. Reason overrules. The ultimate goal is delivery of a safe, healthy baby.

I was brought into a birthing room, and the induction was begun. From here on out, it was a waiting game – waiting for my husband, waiting for our baby, waiting for our new family – all of them, ultimately, well worth the wait.