Time to Re-tile the Kitchen Floor

Thank you to those of you who commented on yesterday’s post.  I feel a little better about favoring my sweet baby over my disobedient toddler over the last couple of weeks.  I’m sure it will change eventually, and I’ll like PJ more again.  At least I know I’m not the only one; thanks to those of you who were courageous enough to admit you sometimes have favorites too.

And now I just have to tell you the story of M’s boss’s daughter’s birth the other day.  He finally got back to work for a few minutes today, so M got to hear the story firsthand at last.  Now keep in mind that this is a true story and not one I’ve ever seen on TV.  Because it sounds like it could be.

On Tuesday night, the mom was about a week overdue with the doctor finally starting to consider an induction.  She’d had one for her second daughter a few years ago, so it was totally expected to be needed again.  They were tentatively considering Thursday, depending on how crazy things were at the hospital.  But then at about 11:15, she mentioned that she was feeling some pretty severe back pain, and they decided it was probably worth heading to the hospital because it was likely the start of labor.  The husband gathered her bags and put them in the car while calling the baby-sitter who lived two doors down from them.  She left her house immediately.  By the time the husband got back to the kitchen where the wife was, she was a bit panicked, telling him that the baby was coming really soon.

He didn’t really believe her, but he checked her to be sure.  He has a history as an EMT, so he had an idea what he was looking at.  He saw her bag of waters but no baby, so they continued with the plan to head right to the hospital.  But before they could get out of the kitchen, she had a serious contraction and bear hugged him to hold herself up during it.  He could tell by the way she hugged him that it was serious pain.  To be sure, he laid her down on the kitchen floor again to check her one more time.  He could see the baby’s head crowning this time.

He grabbed the phone to call 911 just as she had another contraction and couldn’t help pushing.  He barely got his hands out in time to catch his daughter.  This is when the baby-sitter walked in, a mere five minutes after he’d called her–a mere five minutes after labor started.  He had to clear the baby’s throat of meconium and tie off the cord, both of which were taken care of before the paramedics got there about three minutes later.

They got home from the hospital yesterday, both mother and baby doing remarkably well.  And because we had to ask, yes, the baby-sitter had cleaned up the kitchen as well as all the towels, etc., that were used during the birth before the older two daughters woke up the next morning.  Now that’s a great friend!

Can you imagine?  Honestly, I’m jealous.  That’s a story nobody will ever forget, even those of us who don’t personally know anyone involved.  My own birth stories are forgettable and textbook compared to that (BabyN’s in particular).  And I’m terribly annoyed that I had to push through incredible pain (despite an epidural) for two hours with BabyN while she had five minutes total of pain.

But on the other hand, it would be awfully scary to realize you’re going to give birth on your kitchen floor without any medical personnel present, especially when you’d gotten yourself prepared for a long, drawn-out induction.  I guess PJ’s birth was close enough to the made-for-TV version for me.

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