A Child is Born: Part III

I only slept for an hour before the contractions woke me up again. For another hour, I lay there alternately dozing and keeping track of the start times by the bedside alarm clock, for it did seem that they were coming closer together. Ten minutes. Nine. Eight. Alarmed at the rapidly increasing frequency, I got up and sat in the living room with my book for a while. After a chapter or two in the rocking chair, after I’d relaxed a bit, they settled back to 45 minutes apart. Relieved, because I really didn’t want to have the baby at night in this weather, I lay down propped up on the couch and fell back asleep.

In the morning, my friend Pat called to see how things were going. Still uncertain that these contractions were doing anything useful, I decided to wait to tell her. Foolish, perhaps, for when it was time, she was the one who was going to come over to stay with the other children. After the fact, people would say, “Oh, that was so nice of her!” as if she’d been really put out by the whole thing, but that was not the case at all. Pat came out of love for us, not charity, a love returned in force by the children and I. As soon as she hung up, though, I realized my folly. The Caller ID had indicated a gas station telephone. It occurred to me all of a sudden that Pat’s phone was probably out from the ice storm. Quickly, I dialed her home. Nothing. I tried her cell. Voice mail. I was out of touch with her until she was able to call again.

Later, our refugee family returned. She felt awkward, being with us at such a personal time, but I truly didn’t mind. As long as they were okay with making themselves to home, fetching their own drinks and whatnot, and regular lapses in conversation, I was okay, too. The day dragged on. I directed the children in the household chores that needed to be done and in making our guest family feel as welcome as possible. Mostly, I just sat on the couch and, I think, occasionally slept. The contractions were always irregular and very short, never lasting more than thirty seconds, but my belly was getting sore from them and I was getting discouraged. I’d never been in labor so long before.

Around 3:30, or maybe 4:00, I helped the children select a recipe for dinner. David thought it was time for us to go and our guests agreed, but I was not at all sure. David asked if he should go out to get Pat and after a moment, I consented. While he was out, the children got started on dinner. I did not have the endurance to supervise, so I was hoping they could manage okay on their own. I just sat and labored and answered the occasional question. And then, Pat walked in. I hadn’t realized how much I wanted her and needed her there until that moment. I melted into a big puddle of relief and joy.

(And now I must break. I’d planned only a part three, but the child in question is awakening and my time is up for today!)