Julie Kemp Pick
When I began having labor pains with our oldest son, my doctor suggested going right to the ER. At the time we were living in downtown Chicago, about a half mile away from the hospital. It was during one of the warmest summers that I could remember, and my husband suggested walking over as exercise was thought to induce labor. The only problem was that it was 4:00 in the morning, the sky was pitch black, and we never knew what was lurking in the shadows of the sleeping city. In retrospect, the fear of imminent death kept my mind off of my excruciating contractions.
After the doctor examined me, he said that I was only dilated a few centimeters, and recommended that I go home. I didn't have the energy to fight off would-be assailants while walking, and I cringed at the thought of a bumpy bus ride back home, so I pleaded with the doctor to let me stay. By this time my husband was debating having a late nap or an early breakfast.
Once I was finally admitted to a private room, my husband set off for his first of many visits to the cafeteria. When he returned, I was dining on some refreshing ice chips while waiting for the labor- inducing medication to take affect. Unfortunately, my husband just couldn't seem to get comfortable in the lounge chair and was behind schedule in his nap
Three rounds of snoring, two sub-sandwiches, and an extra large fries later, I requested some more ice chips to cleanse my palette. When my husband didn't see a nurse nearby, he suggested that we wait for one. By this time, I was in no mood to listen to anymore of his ridiculous suggestions, and told him to find the ice dispenser by himself. Afterward, he felt so bad that he started feeding me the ice chips and rubbing my back. I quickly sent him out of the room.
Our firstborn came into the world at 6:00 that evening. One of the nurses in the delivery room told me that I had very strong abdominal muscles, and said that she had never seen anyone push with such force. Little did she know that it was because the Bears first pre-season game of the year was about to begin, and my husband couldn't miss a minute of it on TV, especially during the dinner hour.
A to Z Blogging Challenge