Twenty-six years ago I was three weeks overdue with a baby. I was thinking I might have a baby girl in April and call her April. But it was May and a boy on the way. Marty was in Provo ready to start his first class at BYU while I stayed put in Montrose Colorado til our baby was born. Marty called me in the evening from a pay phone because he was just getting things set up in our new apartment. This was before cell phones. He wanted to hear what the doctor had said earlier that day. The doctor told me that there was no progress and the baby would be taken cesarean on Saturday when Marty would be back in town. They had already induced me and that hadn't worked.
Shortly after I hung up the phone I had a labor pain. They persisted and we tried to figure out a way to call Marty. My mother-in-law, Bernadine, was able to get a hold of the manager of the apartment who said he wasn't home but that she left him a note. He was actually there and never saw the note when he rushed out the door in the morning.
Bernadine took me to the hospital and they put me on an infant stress monitor to make sure the baby was doing ok. It showed my labor pains also. The were sporadic and intense. Near the end of the progress to delivery they became concerned about the baby. His pediatrician was present and it was a blessing because Brice Glenn Robbins was born blue. It was frightful to me as they whisked him away to clear his passage way and help him breath. Soon I heard his precious cry and he was given to me.