No, it’s not about cars.
It’s about a labor, and the magnificent mama overrun with the power of her uterus, on the edge of her ability to cope.
Contractions started with a bang. Her partner called soon after, asking whether they should come in.
We hemmed and hawed, concerned about the dwindling number of beds, asked to her wait a little while longer at home.
Not long after, partner calls back: Things are hot and heavy over here, she really wants to come in.
We manage to find a room, not the largest on the unit, but it will do.
They arrive, we check her, our fingers barely making it in before reaching a baby’s head.
Baby’s coming, just breathe, you can do this, you’re almost done, stay with us, mama, you’re so strong!
She glistens with sweat and power and the primal smell of birth. Uncontrollable, unstoppable, unbelievably strong. My breath catches in my throat with awe.
Hands poised, trembling, ready for the moment when inside meets outside.
My heart is racing, but then, hands steady as I breathe again and remember what I’m here to do.
Baby’s here, beautiful, healthy baby’s here, up to mama, right where they belong.
From start to finish, two hours.
I can’t stop grinning all day long. Really. Really?! Really?!! I can’t believe I get to do this.