*Please note that newer entries for my personal blog are published in reverse order (newer posts are published at a later date), so that the true story of my family can be told in chronological order. The real date of this post is July 20th, 2011*
On Tuesday, January 19th, 2010 sometime in the morning, I was working on a patient, when my staff informed me that my wife was on the line with some urgent news. I quickly excused myself to answer her call. My wife, who was 9 months pregnant, told me she was at her obgyn and was having strong contractions. Her doctor advised that she go over to the hospital immediately. Because the hospital was about 8 miles away from the obgyn, my wife said she would drive herself. I didn’t’ feel comfortable about her driving, so I told her to wait for me. However because I was over 50 minutes away, the doctor said she should not wait that long and that she would be fine to drive herself. My wife also said, it’s possible that this might be another false alarm and did not want me to inconvenient my patients for that day. Knowing that it would probably take too long to get to her and not wanting to argue with my wife during her contractions, I grumbled and helplessly agreed. If there’s one thing I learned from all those Lamaze classes – never argue with your wife when she’s about to go into labor.
Besides my wife did tell me that she would call me as soon as she got to the hospital. When I didn’t get a call from her half an hour later, I got concerned. Right after I finished treating my patient, I got on the phone and gave my wife a call. She answered her phone and calmly told me that her water broke. I got extremely anxious and asked how – what – when?!
Apparently when she parked her car at the hospital, her water broke. She was complaining about how she was upset because she had just washed the interior of her car. I could still remember the wonderful details about how amniotic fluid stuck on the carpet of her car and dripped all over the concrete…leading a nice trail up to the five star Huntingtong Memorial Hospital doors… Somehow she ended up in the hospital cafeteria … When I asked why she wasn’t getting admitted into the hospital, she said, “Don’t you remember in labor class, they said once your water breaks, the hospital will not let you eat anything solid until you give birth. And I didn’t want to be hungry!” Imagine that … my wife, 9 months pregnant, standing there in the middle of the hospital cafeteria, scarfing down a cup of split pea soup, wearing her nice work pants – completely drenched and dripping with uterus fluid…
* Too be continued on the next post titled “Rough Night at the Hospital” *