The Baby or the Van?

In honor of my baby turning 9 earlier this week, here is my account of her “birth day.”

November 30, 2000. That morning Misty called me at work. She was having some small contractions. Nothing all that strong, and not very regular. That being said, she was ready to have the baby. Not that she was in labor; she was ready to have the baby. Get it out!

Our first child was originally due December 18th, 1997. A few months into the pregnancy the doctor backed up the due date to December 31. He was born January 6. By the time he was born Misty was miserable. The labor was long and grueling. She did not want to go through that again. I agreed.

I got the call a little after lunch. Misty had just talked to a friend of ours, Julie, who was a nurse Labor & Delivery Nurse at Brookwood Hospital in Birmingham. Julie was working that day. She told Misty that her doctor was there, but he was planning to go out of town for the weekend at 6:00 pm. Julie gave her some tips for getting the process going, and Misty called me.

“Come home. I’m having the baby today.”

“Now?!?” I shot up from my chair and started frantically searching for my keys. “Are you having contractions? Are they regular?”

“No, not yet.”

I sat back down as she recapped for me her conversation with Julie and told me her plan. We were going to go for a walk. Not just any walk. A serious, strenuous walk. We were going to walk for as long as it took to get her contractions strong and regular. I hung up. I was not completely convinced this would work, but I gathered my stuff to leave.

I went down to the church office to let them know I was leaving for the day and why. It was one of the more frustrating conversations I had in that building.

“I’m going home. We’re going to have the baby today.”

Our secretary responded, “Is she having contractions? Are they regular?”

“No.”

I recounted gave a recap of my phone conversation with Misty which included her a recap of her conversation with Julie. I didn’t get the response I expected.

“You know, Mr. Brown [I don’t remember his real name] is coming at 2:00 to go with you to pick up the van.”

I should explain why that is significant. One of my responsibilities as the Director of Youth Ministries at Bluff Park United Methodist Church was vehicle maintenance. Makes sense, right? This particular day I was going to pick up the church’s new van from the auto graphics shop where it had been newly fitted with the words “Bluff Park United Methodist Church.”

Her response staggered me a little, but I finally answered, “I know, but we’re going to have the baby.”

“If her contractions aren’t regular, she’s not going to have it today. He’s coming at 2:00.”

“Can you let him know I won’t be here because we’re having the baby?”

“She’s not going to have that baby today.”

I left frustrated and quickly drove the 30-minute drive to Helena. When I got home Misty was in her “walking clothes” with our son in the stroller. She was ready to go. I was still steaming over my earlier exchange. I still wasn’t convinced we would be successful, but now I was hoping beyond hope that we would be. I didn’t mention it to Misty, and we were off to “Walk for the Baby.”

We took off from our house and power walked around our neighborhood a few times. Power walking may not be an accurate enough description of our walk. We were probably a half step from jogging. In fact, I’m pretty sure our pace was quicker than that of most joggers. Along the way we would stop from time to time to check her contractions. The more we walked the stronger and more regular they became.

Finally after an hour or so Misty declared herself ready to go to the hospital. I called the hospital to let them know we were coming, and then I called the church to let them know that we were going to the hospital and that I definitely would not be back that day. Here’s the response I got:

“Mr. Brown is on his way here to go with you to pick up the van.”

I sat there. I had no idea what to say. I expected excitement. I expected, “Let us know what happens.” I expected almost anything but, “You need to come back to work.”

Finally I said, “We’re going to the hospital. We’re going to have the baby.”

I hung up. Misty looked at me with a puzzled expression. I explained the earlier conversation, and we headed to the hospital both completely stressed and frustrated.

By the time we arrived at the hospital all of that was forgotten. We arrived at the hospital around 2:30 or 3:00. Julie, our friend, was there and told us she’d be our nurse. They got us into a room and Misty changed into her hospital gown.

After we’d been there a little while the doctor came in to check on her. Julie and Misty told him about their plan to have the baby before he left for vacation. He looked at both of them. He looked at the clock and shook his head.

“There’s no way.”

He left and Julie immediately said, “He has no idea. We’re getting this baby out before he leaves.”

She told Misty exactly what to do. Misty did exactly as she was told. And to make a long story short, our beautiful baby girl was born around 5:45 pm. The doctor left for his vacation at 6:00. And someone, I have no idea who went with Mr. Brown to pick up that damn van.