Birth Day, Part 4

Well, no sooner did I go home and start to fall asleep did I get a text message that said, “7cm, calling doctor.” I wondered what to do with this information. I had only been asleep an hour and if this weekend was any indication of how things were to go, I figured I had another 45 minutes I could sleep and still be safe. 10 minutes later I received a text message saying, “10cm, water broke, come now.” That settles it then, doesn’t it? I throw on my shoes, grab my wallet and keys and shoot out the door. It was 2:30am on a Sunday, meaning that the Saturday night bar crowd was on their way out. Not the best time to want to drive fast. Drunks and cops everywhere, nevertheless I made it to the hospital with time to spare, if there is such a thing. I arrived about 10 minutes before the doctor. Once he arrived, it was time. It seems like it took no time at all. I guess that’s what happens when you have time to spare. Next thing I know there’s this little thing, all wrapped up in cord… (once I edit the picture you will be as shocked as we all were). A snip here and a snip there and you’re free. And if all the cruel jokes were to be played at once, I’ll be damned if you don’t look like me… I’m sorry.

I sent a Tweet shortly after asking if ‘tremulous’ was the right word for the situation. I think it is. It’s one of those words you usually only find used by British authors, but I like the way it sounds… don’t you?