Pull up a chair and let me tell you a yarn. You, or anyone else who will listen…
Here’s a funny detail I forgot:
Right after my water broke and I called the midwife and figured out how to not leak all over the place, I re-read the “When To Call” sheet from the midwives. It said that you should eat while you can, then you should drink liquids with calories. The examples they gave were fruit juice, ginger ale, milkshake… Milkshake? Woo hoo! I immediately called my honey, who was still at work.
“Get me a black and white milkshake.”
“I said get me a black and white milkshake. The sheet says so. Just go into the diner and say, ‘one black and white milkshake… STAT!'”
Her co-workers warned her against it. They said I’d regret it. They said I’d puke it all up and regret it later. They said she shouldn’t get it. Luckily, my honey knows me well. She replied to them, “You people don’t understand, I am not showing up at my house without that milkshake.”
About fifteen minutes later, I was on the phone with nethermede explaining exactly how they make a black and white milkshake — that’s half vanilla, half chocolate ice cream if you don’t know — when I had my first contraction. After which I said, “She’d better show up with that milkshake, or I’m sending her back!” A few minutes later, she showed up with the milkshake. That’s my woman.
I drank it. It was delicious.
Later, as I was puking it up (the only puke in my labor, mind you) I said to my honey, “Tell your friends I don’t– wretch — regret the milkshake!”
Hmmm. What else did I forget? Did I mention that the woman who drove us to the hospital was only driving us because she had offered in jest in a text to my honey that morning? Did I mention that her apparently-new car was so full of stuff, that we couldn’t put the suitcase in the trunk? We were back there with our suitcase and pillows and everything in the back seat. Poor Nelly was leaning on a gift bag with a Mikasa bowl in it for the whole ride. The ride was really crazy, scary and hilarious. I felt so bad for the driver that between the contractions I kept asking her if she was ok.
Nelly told me about her cab ride to our house when she came over the other day. She had heard me in the background when A called her and she said to herself, “Holy, $hit! It is on!” She deposited both of her kids with a former babysitter of hers who was working for someone else in her apartment building. She jumped in a cab, and began three part yoga breathing. She said the cab ride lasted fifteen minutes, but it was the longest 15 minutes of her life. (Followed by the longest 40 minute car ride of my life.) If she’d arrived even two minutes later, she would have missed the birth. And I would not have the first time I heard my baby cry and saw his goopy little body on a video clip taken by Nelly. A had told her to hold the cab, just in case she arrived before our other ride. So she was explaining to the cabbie that they were going to pick up her friend who is in labor and bring her to the hospital. the cabbie was quiet for a second, then said, “Oh, were you talking to me? I thought you were on a cell phone!” When she pulled up behind our other friend’s car and got out of the car, the relieved cabby waved and yelled, “Gooood Luuuuck!”
I know there was more I wanted to add, but it may have disappeared from my brain along with so many once-retained things like my password to this blog, if we need or don’t need to buy peanut butter, which day my mother will leave me and return to Florida, and how to dress myself.