“Where is my baby?” I awoke upset that my belly, which hours before was bulging through my doctor scrubs, had surprisingly been flattened. No one had asked for my permission to deliver my baby. They told me he was delivered emergently — at 32-weeks gestation — to save both our lives. I was a third-year pediatric resident, the senior for the pediatric ICU, on the night of my son’s birth. My ...

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