My twin boys were born by C-section at 27 weeks. I was desperately hoping for a third trimester, but failed.
I found the hospital and wandered around in the rain looking for the maternity ward, where I was headed to visit my friend and her newborn baby boy. I clutched a case of diapers in one hand and a toy garbage truck that shouted, “I’m stinky!” when you pressed it, for the newly minted big brother. (I thought the toy was an appropriate ode to the diapers ultimate purpose).