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I knew within ten minutes of my water breaking that it wasn’t going to take hours. I’d be lucky to have minutes.
Just moments after we got into the truck and headed for the hospital that was fifteen minutes away, I knew I wasn’t going to make it.
“Tiago?” I asked as I leaned forward and panted.
“Yeah?” He queried as he turned down a side road that led to the interstate.
“What would happen if I had the baby right now?” I asked through clenched teeth.
“You’re not. We’ll get there in time.” He assured me.
“I don’t...think...we have time.”
Then I was struggling with my pants, yanking them from the top of my belly, over my hips, and down to pool at my feet.
“What are you doing?” Kettle asked in surprise.
My hand went down between my legs where I felt something thatreallyshouldn’t be there. “Uhh, there’s something between my legs.”
“That would be your twat!” Baylee said from behind my seat.
I was shaking my head, and slapping at Kettle’s arm to get his attention. “No really, look at my vagina!”
I hadn’t meant to yell.
Nonetheless, I couldn’t help myself.
I really hadn’t meant for the old man in the pickup next to ours to hear me, but inevitably, he did, and sure enough, he tried to get a look.
Lucky for me he couldn’t see over Kettle’s window, unlucky for me, the man on the opposite side of us could, and he screamed.
“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. That woman has a bloody alien coming out of her cooch!”
“Why are the windows open!?” I screeched.
Kettle, who’d been waiting for the traffic to move at the stop light, looked over, and his eyes bulged.
“Mother fucker!” he yelled as he cut across two lanes of traffic to pull over in the nearest parking lot. Which happened to be a Wal-Mart.
“Oh, my God! Don’t pull over here! I don’t want to be a ‘people of Wal-Mart’ statistic! Go one more over to that Dairy Queen.”
However irrational it was, there was no rhyme or reason to my madness. If I had to have my baby in a truck without drugs, I was damn well having it where I wanted it.
He obliged, too.
As soon as the truck was in park, Kettle was out of his side and running around the front of the truck while Baylee crawled over the console to look down.
“Do you have a go bag?” Baylee asked Kettle once he got the door open.
Kettle’s eyes were on the disaster that was going on between my legs, but his answer was crystal clear and precise. “Never carried one. You have one; you’re obligated to use it. There’re some gloves in the console that you’re sitting on with a pocket mask, though. Call 911.”
“Already did when I noticed you cut off four lanes of traffic.” Sebastian said from behind me somewhere.
Maybe later I might find the mortification that I should be feeling, but right then, it was nonexistent. Why, you ask? Because my hoo-ha had a baby’s head the size of which my vagina had never seen before (even though my husband was no slouch in the penis size department) coming out of it.
“Oh, for the love of all that’s hol-arghh!” My sentence was abruptly cut short by the arrival of another contraction, this one having an intense urge to push coming on its heels. “Have. To. Push.”
“Adeline, look at me now.” Kettle snapped, making my eyes open.
