A little annoyed to be finding out that I was in labor from his brother-in-law, John asked if we needed to go to the hospital or not.
I shook my head. “We only need to go once they are closer together. But we should start timing them.”
John made himself breakfast as I paced around our living room. I wasn’t anxious to go to the hospital yet, but the contractions were definitely getting stronger. John took a shower and I checked that my bag was 100% ready to go.
After timing them, we realized, um, we should probably go to the hospital.
So, at around nine in the morning, we grabbed our bags and walked out to the car. John opened up the trunk, put our bags inside, and pulled out the infant car seat we’d been storing in there “just in case.”
We thought we should install it now.
It was a lot more difficult then we thought it would be.
We found the car seat anchors and attached the base to them, but it seemed awfully loose. John searched the owner’s manual for the instructions. I stood in the cold, trying to help and trying to ignore the pain in my abdomen. I didn’t succeed on either of these points.
John was able to figure out how to marginally tighten the base, and we clicked in the car seat, swearing that we’d figure out how to tighten it later.
Then, we were off. I swear, every slow driver in the world decided to pull out in front of us.
“My wife is in labor! Get out of the freaking way!” John yelled. I laughed and breathed.
“This is the one time we can legitimately speed and we can’t get around these cars,” I joked.
John laid on his horn at another car.
Eventually, we made it to the hospital and pulled into the emergency room parking area. There was a spot near the door, and I slowly made my way to the door.
We gave our names, why we were there (we’re having a baby!), were admitted, and an orderly pushed me to our room in a wheelchair.
Our nurse, Michaela, and midwife, Angie, checked me, determined that my water had broken and despite the fact that I was 1 cm dilated, I could stay at the hospital.
to be continued.