Warning: This post is not for the faint of heart! Proceed at your own risk! LOL!
The other day, I saw a news article, “Pregnant woman uses train toilet, baby slips out.” In Ahmedabad, India, a pregnant woman gave birth while sitting on the crapper on a train.
According to the article, most of the toilets on Indian trains are merely shoots that empty right onto the tracks. (How disgusting is that?!) So, yes, you guessed it, the baby girl was found lying on the train tracks!
If you’ve been reading my blog for any length of time, you know I like to write about these crazy kinds of stories, but this one is even better!
You see, my daughter, B, almost had the same fate!
No, she wasn’t born on a train. She didn’t end up on train tracks. And she wasn’t born in India.
B was, however, thisclose to being born in a toilet!
It was March of 1995. I was at the hospital and in labor with baby #4. I remember saying to myself, “Oh shit, I remember what this feels like now!” as the contractions got stronger.
My doctor had stopped in and checked on me at some point, and told me I had a ways to go. He was going to drop his wife off at the airport and come back. Neither of us knew then that he wouldn’t be back in time.
One of the nurses measured and said I was only x centimeters dilated. (Another one who believed I had a ways to go.)
I was in pain, tired and pissed that I had a ways to go–and did I mention the pain?–so I told them I wanted drugs.
Nurse informed me that I’d have to have an iv, so I wouldn’t be able to get out of bed again. As I’m not very fond of bed pans, I opted to use the restroom one last time before they hooked me up with my liquid relief.
*** This is the part you may want to skip if you’re at all apprehensive of hearing about using the toilet or the nitty-gritty details of babies almost being born. ***
Within seconds of me sitting on the commode, Nurse walked by the open restroom door, and asked, “You don’t feel like you have to push, do you?”, when I felt the baby’s head! So, a very surprised me responded, “Uh, yes!”
I don’t know where they all came from, but there were suddenly about six people in the room, getting me back onto the bed, my feet in the stirrups and telling me not to push. Heh!
One of the associates from my doctor’s office came rushing down to someone’s rescue (cuz I certainly wasn’t going to hold that kid in much longer–hello?!), and delivered my beautiful baby girl. The doctor’s shirt got ruined because (bless him!) he didn’t even take the time to throw scrubs on.
Being just shy of 13, B doesn’t quite see the humor in this story yet. She will.
Send me a cup of java!
