Sunday, December 18, 2022

Get My Pants Off. Now.

This is the short (and rather quick) story of the birth of our son Donald… on a December day that doesn’t seem all that long ago. 

Donald was born fifth in line, having four older sisters and one younger sister, is named after my father, and came into this world during the wee hours of the morning after an evening spent decorating our Christmas tree. Laura woke me and let me know it was time. 

We were just about to head off to the hospital when Laura, who was sitting on the living room sofa tying her shoes, suddenly stopped what she was doing and sat back. 

Looking up at me, she calmly said, “Get my pants off. Now.” 

I looked at her with a “What?” expression… and she calmly informed me that the baby was coming. 

Long story short… or better said... short story shorter (because all of this happened in the time it is taking you to read this), I delivered Donald right there on our living room sofa. My mom had already arrived to watch our daughters (still fast asleep upstairs), so she was able to witness the birth. 

The Virginia Beach Rescue Squad showed up a few minutes later, clamped the cord, checked Laura and Donald out (both were fine), and whisked them off to the hospital.

Laura inherited fast deliveries from her mom. She herself was born in the backseat of her father’s brand-new car in the parking lot of a hospital in Pensacola, Florida (she is the oldest of six girls, by the way). Of our six children, Laura’s longest labor was three hours (our first child… also born at home… but delivered by a doctor).