So I have this friend who is super duper pregnant. Like ready to pop any second. I told her that she could call me to take her to the hospital when she goes into labor, watch her other kids while her husband drives her, etc.
Now intellectually I know that the chances of me being the person to take the reins at “go time” are pretty slim. I mean, she might go into labor in the middle of the night, so her husband will be there. Even if she does go into labor in the middle of the day, her sister is in town and ready to zip on over there. There’s also the chance that our mutual friend, the lovely and talented Emma Carlson Berne (you mean you haven’t read her book Still Waters yet?!? What’s wrong with you?), will be the one since she lives much closer than I do.
But this still doesn’t stop me from inventing scenarios of what might happen in my wee little head. Like CRAZY scenarios. This is one that has been evolving over the past couple of weeks:
I go to lunch with my friend (this actually happened today). We’re yucking it up at The Cheesecake Factory over chicken salad (this actually happened today, too), when suddenly she goes into labor. (So as to avoid the confusion that Ode to the grocery store: Day 2 triggered, I’ll make it clear that from here on out, THIS DID NOT HAPPEN.)
In this scenario, I remain completely composed, find my car keys with ease, and swiftly yet calmly bring my car around for her. We start our 20-minute drive to the hospital.
As soon as I merge onto the highway, her contractions are getting stronger. And closer together. I coach her with her breathing, call her husband, and drive very safely simultaneously.
There comes a point, however, where she screams, “The baby is coming!!!”
Now remember, I am calm. Just call me Meredith “the girl who never panics” Towbin. I pull over onto the shoulder, come around to the passenger side and lay my friend down on the ground. There’s no time to call 911.
Yada, yada, yada, I deliver the baby. Like a PRO. I do all the stuff you’re supposed to do during and after you deliver a baby. I don’t technically know what that is, so I kind of glaze over it in my scenario. But I DO know that you should give the baby the spank of life (mad props to Super Diaper Baby) and wrap the baby in aluminum foil to keep it warm. I’ll just pretend that it’s not the end of July and it’s over 100 degrees out. In every scenario I’ve invented, there is aluminum foil involved, so that’s not changing.
My friend and her husband are so thankful that they name the baby Meredith. I say, “Guys, you had a BOY! You can’t do that! And really, it was nothing.”
They say, “We don’t care. Meredith is his name. And we will never forget that birthing is your game.”
That was how it was supposed to happen. But it didn’t. My friend and I parted ways after lunch and I probably won’t see her until after the baby is born. I just hope her doctor does as good a job delivering that kid as I would have done.
Image from Cute Babies.