Stand and Deliver!

Our story begins on the morning of Sunday, January 31. As I recall, it was a fairly nice looking day outside, despite the snow covering the grass outside our window. I glanced at the clock and realized that I had better get out of bed and get ready for church or we would be late again. Ah well.

I rolled out of bed, when my lovely wife informed me that she had been having a couple of contractions. My stress level immediately went up a couple of notches.

“Are these pre-labor¹ or the real thing?” I asked her.

“I’m not sure,” was her reply. You see, it’s not unusual for Sabra to have the occasional labor pain weeks before her due date as her body prepares to eject the clone growing within. She had had a few contractions this morning, but they were irregular. So, after a bit of discussion, we decided that I may as well get the kids ready to go.² I did so, promised to call her to check up on her, and away we went.

I was a bit tense during the meetings,³ and called her a couple of times. Sabra said she had had one more, but none for an hour and a half during a phone conversation she had with a close friend.

My stress level was still a little high, but was declining since it seemed, to me, that we weren’t heading to the hospital soon. Sunday meetings over, I collected the Gaggle, loaded them in the van, and we headed home.

Upon arriving, I walked in to find that Sabra was having another contraction. Stress level climbing again. No, they still weren’t coming regularly, but they were “sharp,” as my wife calls them. This isn’t normal for the pre-labor stuff. Normally those would be dull. Uncomfortable, but nothing to worry about. “Sharp” meant that hospital might be in our future after all.

For the next several hours, she had a few more. But, again, not in any regular sort of pattern. She could have one, go an hour and then have three, then go another two hours before something would happen. Well, crap. Sabra had decided to begin packing her hospital bag, just in case, and I had been trying to help with that, just in case.

And then time was coming for another Sunday meeting, in which I was supposed to be singing with a men’s chorus. “Should I go?” I asked her. I was very worried/scared at this point, and didn’t want to leave my wife alone.

“Well, why don’t you see if Heather⁴ can take the kids during your meeting, so I can relax and finish packing. That would really help,” she answered.⁵

I had nodded my head, “Of course. That makes sense.” So, I called Heather, asked the favor which she accepted quickly. “You know, I think we should just plan on taking you over to UH⁶ tonight, after the meeting. Since Heather will have the kids anyway,” I mentioned. “Plus, I think I’ll just stay long enough to sing with the guys, then come home after.”

Sabra had agreed. So, off I went to drop off the Gaggle⁷ and head back to church. An hour or so later, I was heading back home. Sabra had finished packing and I quickly dragged out the suitcase to the van.⁸ She had had a few more “sharp” contractions and, to me, was looking like she was needing to get to the hospital, and within easy reach of painkillers if she needed them.⁹

And this, my friends, is where the real drama begins. At 8:00 pm, as we’re literally just heading for the door, the water breaks. Well, my stress/fear¹⁰ level just went through the roof.

“Let’s go!” I yelped. Towels grabbed and applied to seat, wife loaded, and away we sped. The planned route was to take Wilson Mills into Cleveland, on our way to UH.

Well, we had just barely passed under 271 and weren’t very much passed the Home Depot found there, when I’m informed that I had better turn around and head to Hillcrest Hospital, which is closer to our house, instead. “I’m not going to make it to Cleveland,” she says.

“Okay!” I yelp again. Yes, I’m scared. I quickly find a road to turn around on so I can turn around, jump on the freeway for the quick couple of miles south to Mayfield Rd. and thus to Hillcrest.

No sooner do I make that turn then: “Stop the car!”

“What?”

“Stop the car!” And so I do. My wife throws open her door and gets out.

“What are you doing?!”

“I just need to stand up a minute.” You see, she had been writhing in her seat, very uncomfortable and in pain during some contractions¹¹ and need to relieve the pressure. So she stood just outside the door, leaning on her arms on the seat, as the contraction passed.

She picks up her leg to get back in, when I hear: “Call 911!”

“Are you serious?!”

“Call now! Get over here!”

Well, that did it. I throw open my door as I’m dialing 911. I race around the van, and I’m too late. My wife has already delivered her own baby. She had caught the head in one hand, the body in the other. I drop down in a crouch to make sure she’s not on the verge of falling or dropping him. She climbed back in the van, and as we are making sure all is covered, she says, “It’s a boy!” The time? 8:15 pm.

Holy crap!!!

“911 operator. What’s the emergency?”

Huh? Oh, right! I had called 911. “We just had a baby in our VAN!” I’m yelling.

“Okay, sir. Where are you?” Why does she sound so darn calm?!

“Oh, uhm. Hang on, I have to look at the sign… We on the corner of Wilson Mills and Millridge. Please hurry! We just had a baby!”¹² I was yelling, I’m pretty sure.

“An ambulance is on the way.”

Mom and baby are covered up and put back in the van, heat is cranked up, and I’m shaking. I’m back in the driver’s seat, letting my dear, darling, beautiful wife know that help was on the way. Two minutes later, police are on site and my wife is assessed. This officer even remarked to me that she seemed markedly calm despite having just given birth. Three minutes after that, the ambulance arrives. My wife is assessed and loaded. I’m waved over to cut the cord. Soon, I’m back in the van, following the ambulance and police car the few miles needed back to Hillcrest.

What follows is a bit hazy in my memory. I remember walking into the ER after my wife on her gurney, a row of what seemed like 10 nurses lined up smiling, ready to receive her. Questions asked and answered, and my eyes only for my wife and our new baby boy. Holy crap! Did this just really happen? Yes, it did.

They’re home now. Mom and new gosling doing well. My life is enriched even further, and I love telling this story. Even more than the last one when I caught our baby boy in the hospital because the nurses and midwife had stepped out for just a minute.¹³

Denin Millridge¹⁴ Gosselin is home.

1. As I call them. You know, those Braxton Hicks things. [↩]
2. Sabra hadn’t been to church in a few weeks as sitting in the pews and chairs were extremely uncomfortable for her during the last bit of the pregnancy. [↩]
3. For those not LDS, you need to know that our Sunday meetings consist of three meetings, each one hour long, including our congregational meeting (Sacrament), Sunday School, and another meeting we call Priesthood or Relief Society. [↩]
4. Our WONDERFUL friends, Heather and Rich, had offered many times to help out in any way they could when the time came. We’re so blessed and happy to have them as friends, and especially to have them living five miles away. Oh, so close. [↩]
5. She kept saying she wanted to be supportive of my singing, at which I was rolling my eyes pointing out that LABOR and DELIVERY trumped singing any day in my book. [↩]
6. University Hospitals, in Cleveland, about a 30 minute drive from our house. [↩]
7. I had them pack jammies and other sundry over-night needs. [↩]
8. I should point out that I forgot to pack extra diapers for the youngest of them, so I had to make a diaper drop run before we left. [↩]
9. Though she has only used them once. No, seriously! au natural baby! [↩]
10. Ladies, I know, you are doing all the work and feeling all the pain. But this is the scariest time for us guys. Why? Because we are absolutely powerless to do ANYTHING, and we really, really HATE that feeling. Plus, it’s a time when you lay your lives on the line, and we could lose you. Yes, we hate that thought even more. [↩]
11. Contractions, as anyone knows who has been in labor, is worse when the water breaks. [↩]
12. Please note: I’m not completely certain on the accuracy of this call. You’ll understand. [↩]
13. I’ll tell that one some other time, if you want. [↩]
14. Yes, we named him after the street he was born on. [↩]