Christie was in terrible discomfort as she went into labor. She begged her husband to come home over the phone, but he advised her to take the train to the hospital instead. She raced to the train in a hurry, weary beyond belief, and the response from her father-in-law just made the day’s chaos worse.
Hello to all of you. It’s unbelievable that I’m posting this, but I believe it’s crucial. I went into labor with my first kid last Monday night.
My water burst unexpectedly due to the severe discomfort.
With all of my power, I sprang to my feet in a panic and dialed my still-working husband, Francis. I pleaded with him to be home as soon as possible.
Francis, please, you need to get home right away! The child is on the way! With dread and anguish in my voice, I sobbed, “My water broke.”
Francis surprised me by telling me to take the SUBWAY to the hospital. I was so slow. How was he even able to propose that?
I was out of breath from the constant, severe waves of agony that were the contractions. Tearful and sad, I hung up. But a deep, primordial terror bit me.
I needed to get the hospital quickly.
“Go to the subway.” I whispered as I felt another contraction come on, gripping my stomach. “How should I proceed… under these circumstances?” Tears clouded my eyesight as they filled them. However, there was no time to linger.
For the sake of the small life inside of me and myself, I had to move.
I took a big breath, grabbed my luggage, and got ready to do the unimaginable.
I stumbled out of the apartment, clutching my stomach, frustrated and crying. The sticky weather made walking seem difficult at every step. Using every ounce of energy I had left, I flagged down a cab and told the driver what had happened.
“My water pipe burst. I must go to the hospital right now. I gasped and pleaded, “Please help me.
The taxi driver shook his head icily as his eyes became wide. “Lady, please stop destroying my seats. Apologies! He stated that and then drove off.
It seemed unbelievable to me. I got a spurt of energy out of desperation and half-walked, half-ran to the metro station. I was gasping for air as each contraction seemed like a wave washing over me.
I fell down the steps and grabbed onto the railing for balance. There were a lot of people in the station, and they were walking right by me.
My phone rang as I made my way to the metro. John, my father-in-law, was there.
“Daddy, I’m… I’m giving birth. I should use the metro, Francis said. I… I can’t believe it,” I choked out a sob.
My father-in-law abruptly changed his tone. “What did he say? Christie, pay attention, I will.
As I made my way down into the metro, the call ended and my phone’s battery ran out. I felt more alone than ever as I stared at the blank screen. I was left reeling by my father-in-law’s incomplete statement and the lack of any support that he intended to provide.
I could not concentrate, hoping he would figure out how to support me. But for now, all I could do was wait it out and hope the train would get me there soon.
The smell of too many people permeated the crowded tube. My contractions were becoming rather intense, and I was having trouble standing. Several nice folks saw that I was upset and wanted to help.
One old woman put her hand gently on my arm. “Where’s your husband, honey?”
My meek grin gave birth to a statement, “He told me to take the subway.”
The throng surrounding me hummed with incredulity. “What the heck is he?” “That is completely crazy!” “You poor creature.”
Their emotions were a mixture of pity and indignation, and even though the agony was excruciating, I felt somewhat comforted by their care. I wasn’t alone myself for long.
Their indignation was somehow reassuring in spite of the agony. Upon observing my difficulty, a young man offered me water and assisted me in finding a seat.
Another woman replied, “Sweetheart, you should be at the hospital, not on a subway,” with a worried expression on her face.
My eyes filled with tears. All of it was Francis’s fault. I was in this horrible circumstance because of him.
The train finally arrived at the station, and happily I didn’t have to travel too far because the hospital was nearby. Even yet, I was too tired and weak to stand.
I was aided by a nice stranger who had accompanied me on the metro journey to hail a cab for the short ride to the hospital entrance.
His gentle words, “Hang in there, you’re almost there,” were a comfort to me in my distress.
The staff at the hospital ushered me into the labor and delivery unit as soon as I arrived. The music washed over you, and the lights were intense. I was surrounded by medical professionals getting me ready to give birth.
I was consumed by thoughts of my husband’s ignorance and my father-in-law’s response despite the agony and confusion. Their shouts resounded in my head, a never-ending reminder of the insane nature of the day.
Grasping the bed’s edge, I attempted to calm my mind. My only goal was to safely deliver my child into the world.
“Christie, deep breaths,” a nurse remarked. “You’re doing fantastic.”
My father-in-law stormed into the room, his face twisted with fear and rage, just as the nurses were about to finish getting me ready. It was like having him around.
“Christie, what happened to Francis?” He insisted.
“At Work!” In between contractions, I managed to say. I was hurting and LIVID.
With a quick flick of his phone, my father-in-law called Francis. “How in the world would you advise her to ride the subway?” His speech could be heard clearly by everyone in the room.
Through the phone, I could hear Francis’s voice in the background. “Dad, I.”
My father-in-law interrupted, his expression becoming scarlet. “You had better come here quickly.”
The following hour seemed to go on forever. Around me, nurses were busy taking vital signs and getting ready to deliver. My father-in-law was at my side all along.
Occasionally, he would glance at his watch and whisper to himself, his resentment boiling under the surface.
At last, the door sprang open once again, revealing Francis, who seemed as if he were a deer caught in headlights.
A wave of relief across my face, tempered with a good pinch of rage. With a worried and guilty expression, he hurried over to be at my side.
My apologies, Christie. The subway seemed like a quicker option. The insane traffic would have prevented me from making it home, even if I had wanted to. My intention was not to worsen the situation; all I wanted was for you to arrive as soon as possible.
With my breath caught in my throat, I fixed my gaze on his. Though it was difficult to think clearly due to the agony, a part of me still hurt from being betrayed.
“Observe,” my father-in-law said, his tone rough yet kind. Let’s avoid wasting time assigning blame. Christie needs our prayers and support right now. Let’s wait outdoors.
I gave Francis a tentative look of comprehension. I felt a sharp ache that tore through me, depriving me of breath. I gave Francis a handshake so tight his knuckles went white.
Our lovely baby daughter was delivered after several hours of tears and celebration. All of the hurt and annoyance vanished the instant they laid her on my chest. I was overcome with an intense affection for this little, exquisite creature.
I said in a whisper, staring at our little daughter Kristen, “We did it. At last, she has arrived. I felt a surge of amazement at witnessing the marvel curled up in my arms.
When I thought back on that crazy day, I understood how quickly stress can cause communication to break down. Despite our serious miscommunication, Francis and I shared mutual care for one another. Ultimately, the most important thing was that we were all here as a new family.
By writing about this, I wish to make people aware of how crucial empathy and comprehension are in times of crisis. Our love for our little child unites our family despite everything.
Without a doubt, this event has altered us. Francis expressed deep regret and made a commitment to communicate and be more present.
It was a chaotic, memorable day in retrospect. A day marked by terror that was followed by a miracle. A day that made me appreciate the value of family, the necessity of communication, and the incredible miracle of creating life.
So keep in mind, expectant parents everywhere: communication is essential! Preparing for any hiccups, talking over your birthing plan in advance, and most importantly, supporting one another are all vital.
Hey, consider forgoing the metro travel when you’re in labor! This narrative should serve as a reminder to rely on your loved ones in times of need and to have faith in your network of support.
Did you have any wild surprises when your little miracle arrived, or did everything go as planned? Let’s talk about our experiences becoming mothers and offer advice on how to prevent miscommunications during childbirth. I appreciate you reading!