A guest post from my mom!
In my ninth month, like most moms-to-be, I was a whirlwind organizer. After the nursery drawers were lined with Beatrix Potter paper, the crib set up, and the rest of the house put into tip top shape (no house of mine has ever been that neat again), I turned to craft projects. In the middle of making a navy blue calico picture frame, three days before my due date, I began to feel regular contractions. Yes!
After dinner, Cliff got to his task, which he had put off for weeks: repainting the wicker bassinet the last two generations in my mom’s family slept in. “In engineering,” he said as he dabbed on the white paint, “nothing happens ahead of schedule.”
“Well this baby’s ahead of time. At least I think this is real labor.”
We got in bed that night. Cliff fell promptly asleep. Whoa! A contraction hit that sent me flying out of bed. I went downstairs and fiddled around, waking Cliff two hours later.
When my contractions were three minutes apart, we called the doctor and then set out for the hospital. We lived in Sudbury, Massachusetts, and to get to Newton-Wellesley Hospital we took Route 20, the old Boston Post Road.
The road was dark at three a.m. Cliff didn’t see a large rock right in our path. The car jolted as we drove over it. So the next driver wouldn’t suffer our cruel fate, Cliff got out and moved the rock back to the stone wall on the side of the road.
When he returned and we started up again, he said, "Don’t worry; we’re still rolling."
We weren’t for long. The tire went flat.
No cell phones back then!
Cliff stepped into the road, flagging down a driver traveling in the opposite direction. She rolled down her window just an inch, and he explained the situation. We had seen a police car a few miles back. The woman agreed to look for the policeman.
A few minutes later, the policeman appeared. (I’ve learned that one way to get sweet attention from the police is to be in labor). The officer called an ambulance, and that’s how I arrived at the hospital.
Cliff went back the next day and located the rock. We now have it in our garden and are thinking of bringing it to Charlottesville soon, in honor of the start of the next generation.
Kath was born at 9:35am later that morning!
-Barbara, who 30 years later is writing about menopause!
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