in a mile you’ll be doing fine, Machine tells me.  in the middle of delivery.  okay I can push some more.  I remember how just before daughter finally came out, I became sure, after 3 1/2 hours of pushing against distended bladder that I would die with the one accomplishment being pushing her into the world.  I was a thread away from giving up. and then she was out.  I raised my head, I watched as she popped open arms and legs indignant herself at the ordeal, her holler as the nurse gripped her was my signal to pass out.  I went elsewhere, curled in, reviving myself while they made her footprints and measured her. did they project into this day with their calipers and syringes?  did they say, whoo-whee this one’s ready to roll?