The night before should have forewarned me. Cars were scarce amongst us new missionaries there in Venezuela and an insistent offer came to drive to me the Bible study that evening. I'd been riding on the back of our motorbike since day one of the pregnancy. I had no problem climbing aboard again that evening. Yet appreciating their concern -- and with rainclouds looming on the horizon -- I obliged.
Labor began in the wee hours of the morning, light and inconsistent compared to the birth of our first son. When the doctor said he would meet us at the hospital at 7 a.m. it sounded like a reasonable plan -- that is until my water burst. The pain that followed was caused by a child suddenly plummeting down the birth canal. Matt walked in as I sat panting to keep from pushing.
"We're not going to make it to the hospital. The baby is coming," I told him between pants.
"Should I go get Cubie?" Matt asked, referring to our friend who was a nurse.
My mind said, "No! Why would I ever want you to leave me when I'm ready to deliver your child?" I think it was the image flashing through my mind of my husband passed out on the floor while attempting to assist that made very different words come out. "Yes, that would a good idea," I heard myself say.
Matt was out the door in record time. I could hear him one story below our window rattling at the lock on the cage where our motorbike was stored. The head was crowning. To tell or not to tell?
Part of me wanted to call out to Matt, telling him of the progress; the other part realized the indecision that would create. If complications arose we would need a nurse. It was best if he continued on for help. I could always pant. There was no 911 number to call.
I heard Matt revving up the motorbike, the sound of its engine disappearing in the distance. Childbirth continued. Our child was born without any complications, slipping into my waiting hands in a surprisingly natural and amazing moment.
Matt arrived less than ten minutes later with Cubie. If only I'd had a camera to capture the look on their faces when they entered the room. I don't know what they expected to find, but they definitely weren't expecting to find me with a baby in my arms.
"It's...it's...a baby!" The words came out in a stutter from a man who never stutters.
Cubie's shock was combined with sheer disappointment that she was too late to deliver the child herself. "I know you're in shock...," she began.
I could only smile back. "No, I'm not in shock. I think it's you two that are in shock right now!"
And no one disagreed.
Labor began in the wee hours of the morning, light and inconsistent compared to the birth of our first son. When the doctor said he would meet us at the hospital at 7 a.m. it sounded like a reasonable plan -- that is until my water burst. The pain that followed was caused by a child suddenly plummeting down the birth canal. Matt walked in as I sat panting to keep from pushing.
"We're not going to make it to the hospital. The baby is coming," I told him between pants.
"Should I go get Cubie?" Matt asked, referring to our friend who was a nurse.
My mind said, "No! Why would I ever want you to leave me when I'm ready to deliver your child?" I think it was the image flashing through my mind of my husband passed out on the floor while attempting to assist that made very different words come out. "Yes, that would a good idea," I heard myself say.
Matt was out the door in record time. I could hear him one story below our window rattling at the lock on the cage where our motorbike was stored. The head was crowning. To tell or not to tell?
Part of me wanted to call out to Matt, telling him of the progress; the other part realized the indecision that would create. If complications arose we would need a nurse. It was best if he continued on for help. I could always pant. There was no 911 number to call.
I heard Matt revving up the motorbike, the sound of its engine disappearing in the distance. Childbirth continued. Our child was born without any complications, slipping into my waiting hands in a surprisingly natural and amazing moment.
Matt arrived less than ten minutes later with Cubie. If only I'd had a camera to capture the look on their faces when they entered the room. I don't know what they expected to find, but they definitely weren't expecting to find me with a baby in my arms.
"It's...it's...a baby!" The words came out in a stutter from a man who never stutters.
Cubie's shock was combined with sheer disappointment that she was too late to deliver the child herself. "I know you're in shock...," she began.
I could only smile back. "No, I'm not in shock. I think it's you two that are in shock right now!"
And no one disagreed.
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