Saturday night live
We had just said goodbye to a couple of friends who had been over for dinner and some games. Amber, large with children, was sitting in the recliner, and I was on the couch.
"I'm heading to bed," she announced. She had to announce it because at this point in her pregnancy, when she moved from one room to another, the dog and I needed a warning to stay out of the way.
Saturday Night Live had just begun as Amber began to push herself up from her seated position. My eyes were on the TV, watching the celeb d'jour beginning an unfunny monologue, when Amber spoke my name.
"I think my water just broke," she said.
"Ok," I said, "Are you sure?" My head suddenly felt like a tightly-wound spring ready to release and bounce wildly around the room.
"Yes. I think so."
And we were off. I rushed to get her a towel which she immediately straddled like horse to stem the flow. When they say "water", they don't mean "water" like a trickling mountain stream; it's much more like a falls of the Niagra variety. I ran around gathering things, like a good non-panicked father-to-be is supposed to. Amber had a master list of things to take that she couldn't find, and her panic escalated into an image that I won't forget...she, squat-walking around the bedroom, red bath towel clenched below her massive belly, shouting repeatedly at no one,"Where's my list?!!?!"
We called my parents, who were probably in a deep sleep in northwest Houston. They had a long drive ahead of them and we didn't know if they'd make it in time. Once we got our stuff together and in the car, we headed to the hospital and made the rest of our calls on the way.
After the last one was made, it started to hit us.
"This is it," I said.
"Yep."
We were driving to the hospital as husband and wife, and we'd be driving home as mother and father. Whether or not we were ready wasn't the issue anymore; we knew that it was only a matter of hours before we'd see the faces of the children we'd only known as black & white video images and things-that-go-bump-in-the-belly.
Next time..."You wanna see the placenta?"
"I'm heading to bed," she announced. She had to announce it because at this point in her pregnancy, when she moved from one room to another, the dog and I needed a warning to stay out of the way.
Saturday Night Live had just begun as Amber began to push herself up from her seated position. My eyes were on the TV, watching the celeb d'jour beginning an unfunny monologue, when Amber spoke my name.
"I think my water just broke," she said.
"Ok," I said, "Are you sure?" My head suddenly felt like a tightly-wound spring ready to release and bounce wildly around the room.
"Yes. I think so."
And we were off. I rushed to get her a towel which she immediately straddled like horse to stem the flow. When they say "water", they don't mean "water" like a trickling mountain stream; it's much more like a falls of the Niagra variety. I ran around gathering things, like a good non-panicked father-to-be is supposed to. Amber had a master list of things to take that she couldn't find, and her panic escalated into an image that I won't forget...she, squat-walking around the bedroom, red bath towel clenched below her massive belly, shouting repeatedly at no one,"Where's my list?!!?!"
We called my parents, who were probably in a deep sleep in northwest Houston. They had a long drive ahead of them and we didn't know if they'd make it in time. Once we got our stuff together and in the car, we headed to the hospital and made the rest of our calls on the way.
After the last one was made, it started to hit us.
"This is it," I said.
"Yep."
We were driving to the hospital as husband and wife, and we'd be driving home as mother and father. Whether or not we were ready wasn't the issue anymore; we knew that it was only a matter of hours before we'd see the faces of the children we'd only known as black & white video images and things-that-go-bump-in-the-belly.
Next time..."You wanna see the placenta?"
posted by drb at 4/14/2005 07:36:00 PM
1 Comments:
Very timely topic! Thanks for sharing.
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