Eleven years ago on a sunny May day, I was helping my drama students with their last run-through before their final performance for drama class. The room was buzzing with energy and excitement and the stage was being set. But Miss Lucy, who hates to miss anything, had other plans. My water broke during class so I called Big Man who was conveniently on an OB rotation at the time. I barely got the words "My water broke" out before I heard the click that let me know he had hung up on me. He never was much for phone talk.
Though he was having his own troubles trying to deliver a baby with plunging D-cells, I only knew my husband had hung up on me and I was left to my own devices. What was a girl to do? I left my drama students in the hands of a capable sub and drove myself home while contracting. I found my amour (whom I decided to keep for the time being) waiting for me. He had changed out of his scrubs and was happy the baby he delivered was doing well. He was chatty and proceeded to call as many people as he could. Apparently, during your wife's labor is a good time to talk. He was in no hurry. "Take a bath, relax!. Let me pack and I will tell people what's up." Yeah, the wrenching pain makes me feel like bathing....you take your time, buddy! is what I was thinking, but I was in too much pain to fight.
Miss Lucy made her persistence known with increasing contractions. Big Man, more of an expert in birthing despite being male, claimed we had plenty of time. He eventually, at my insistence, drove unrushed to the hospital and parked nowhere near the emergency entrance. "Walking will be good for you!" he chirped. Yes... walking with something akin to a human watermelon strapped between my legs will just be great! was a thought that may have crossed my mind. But, it is hard to be pissed, walk, and contract all at once so I opted for walking when not contracting and made it to the elevator. What, you say? He didn't make you take the steps? Oh, he wanted to....I saw him looking for them, but I was focused on the elevator and fortunately his good sense arrived in time. 'Pick your battles' is not only a good mantra for parenting but for marriage as well.
In delivery, I spent 20 minutes laboring on a table and she arrived with her eyes wide open. She didn't squawk much, but she was checking things out, already taking in the world eager to get at it. This has remained true to her personality. My Lucy was two weeks early. Since then, she has ALWAYS been an early riser, will lie about arrival times for any function in order to get there at the earliest possible moment, and insists on clocks in any room she may be sleeping in.
Out of my heart came this tiny little dream of a baby girl. I lost six babies before she came to me. I became so frustrated, so angry and hopeless that at times, it seemed impossible to carry on with a shattered heart and broken spirit. But Miss Persistence showed up anxious to prove dreams comes true.
And that they did.