Our second pregnancy was pretty much uneventful. It was, as pregnancies go, normal and unremarkable. Bekah never did like making trouble for anyone, and even while still inside her mom, she was that way. Easy and nice. But Bekah has a stubborn streak. Even as a child she couldn’t be dissuaded once she had set her mind on something. And there are times even now, thirteen years later, when Bekah gets something in her head and she won’t give in. We got a taste of the future the day she came into the world. It was time. And she didn’t even give anyone warning.
Tambee woke me up early. Dark-thirty early. I honestly don’t remember how early it was, but it was dark and I was groggy. And in true Tambee fashion she had been laying there for a while having contractions. Privately taking the pain and allowing me to sleep. So she wakes me up and says that the contractions are pretty bad and pretty close together. We call the hospital and they say it doesn’t sound like a rush job but we could come in when we feel like it.
We call my mom because she wants to be there when the baby is born. We call my sister because she’s watching Aubrie. We aren’t in a hurry because the last labor took us a month and a half and we know this baby isn’t coming anytime soon. So we take our time. With every minute however Tambee is feeling the pain. The contractions are getting closer and closer and the pain is getting fairly intense. It’s something like 3:30 in the morning. No one is on the roads. I’m doing my job – I’m staying calm and I’m making Tambee laugh. It keeps her mind settled and centered. She knows I’m cool and collected, she can stay cool and collected. So I’m diving semi-crazy. Not fast, but fast enough to make her think about me and breaking the law than the contractions she’s having. I run a few red lights. Just for fun. I mean if you can’t run a red light at 3:30 in the morning when your wife is having a baby then when can you? Seriously. Even if we weren’t in any real hurry. Or so we thought.
So we get to the hospital and Tambee thinks she’s pretty close. But nurses don’t trust mom’s. They think all mom’s don’t really know what they’re talking about. So we get to Labor & Delivery and Tambee tells them that she’s having this baby. The nurses don’t move any faster to get her into a wheelchair than if they were headed to empty the trash. Calm and deliberate. They get her into the chair, which she can’t really sit in for some strange reason and get her into the room. This is where the story gets fun.
The nurse gets Tambee up onto a bed, feet into the stirrups and to do the first exam. It’s 3:30 in the morning, this nurse has seen everything, this mom doesn’t know what she’s talking about, there’s no way this baby is coming right now. With tired eyes and practiced hands the nurse checks to see how far along Tambee is. I’m standing with Tambee at the head of the bed, but I’m watching the nurse. Her eyes widen. The tiredness washes away in a flash. Her mouth opens a fraction. And she says, “Do NOT push. I’m going to get a doctor.” And she rushes out of the room much quicker than when she came in.
Minutes later a doctor comes in. Bleary eyed and yawning. Turns out the nurses found him on a gurney somewhere in the hall. He was the closest doctor they could find. With practiced hands and exhausted eyes the doctor checks to see how far my wife is along. In an instant his eyes widen, the exhaustion washes away, his mouth drops open and he says, “DO NOT push.” And he quickly reaches for a pair of gloves which he dons with no delay, never taking his eyes off of Tambee.
Tambee has a contraction and the doctor tells her to breath through it, don’t push, our doctor has been called and he’s on his way. The nurses are there now, strangely all congregating like busy hens all clucking away and doing their jobs with precision and care. Tambee asks for drugs to numb the pain. The nurse, standing just out of arms reach, gently explains that there won’t be time for drugs. Tambee is confused and so am I. No time? The last baby came after hours and hours of labor. No time? It seems Bekah has spoken and she can’t be dissuaded.
In between contractions the doctor is shaking his head quietly to himself. I’m watching for an indication of what’s going on. Only a few minutes have past since we arrived. The doctor keeps shaking his head and he tells Tambee that the next time there’s a contraction that she should go ahead and push. This baby isn’t going to be cooperative and wait for our doctor. Tambee is in considerable pain at this point and confused; I haven’t had even a second to make her laugh. This isn’t funny. It’s scary and completely unlike what our first delivery was like.
The next part happens fast. Within about twenty seconds. I’ll break down the action for you so you can appreciate it step by step.
There is another contraction. The doctor orders Tambee to push. She does. There is a contraction immediately after that, we all tell Tambee to push. She doesn’t need to be told. She pushes. The doctor says he can see the head, then the arms…
My mom walks into the room smile on her face, Swedish blanket and knitting bag over one arm – filled with a book, magazines, money and a little food, and 48 ounces of Pepsi in the other hand. She’s here for the long haul. She was at the last pregnancy and she knows how long it’s going to take. Her face goes through several changes in the period of about five seconds. She is happy, excited and sure of what’s going on…
Then Bekah is born. Right then. As my mom walks into the room. It takes about two seconds. Count it with me – one thousand one, one thousand two. Yep. There she is. My second child. The doctor announces that it’s a girl. My mom looks at us with a half smile and a confused look on her face. You can tell she’s checking that it’s the right room.
Yep. There’s my son and daughter in law. Check. Her face says. Then she glances at the doctor holding a new baby girl and her face gets confused. That can’t be my new granddaughter, I was only a few minutes behind them. She then looks back at us. Check. That’s my son and daughter in law. Her face is back to knowing what’s going on. Then she glances at the baby again. Her face changes to confusion again. This happens several times in the course of a few seconds, back and forth and back and forth. Confusion and surety. Confusion and surety. While I didn’t have time to make my wife laugh, my mom, without knowing it, was making me laugh.
Our second daughter was born. Her second granddaughter. And she had made it by only seconds. Still holding her Swedish knitting and Pepsi she smiles at us and says something about how quickly it had all happened. We were all surprised. Entire time delivering the baby in the hospital, probably around ten minutes. Maybe. It all happened so fast. Like a bank robbery, only instead of loosing something we gained it. Bekah was the newest member of our family and soon we would learn that when Bekah had her mind set on something she couldn’t be easily dissuaded.
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