St. Vincent's

It was early in the morning on a brisk October day. I had just awoke next to my pregnant wife and was considering beginning my daily routine for work.

My wife's routine was a bit more immediate in the mornings as it was controlled by a baby pressing down on her bladder. As my loving and distended mate began the laborious process of heaving herself to a vertical position, she made a noise. The noise sounded very much like it was from another language, something from the Philippines maybe. Despite the apparent incoherence of the utterance I new it's exact meaning.

"I am leaking." She says. As amused as she was surprised.

My wife shuffled quickly to the bathroom so she could stand in the shower.

Large drops of fluid were hitting the bottom of our cramped plastic tub. "Thwap" "Splatter" "Pat-pat"

My mom had been staying with us in our tiny apartment in a 70's dark brown building. She was hoping to be around for just this event. Now that it was here she began this odd sort of 'jig'. Running about packing, unpacking, fretfully considering out loud the implications & then joyfully proclaiming every other minute. "We're having a baby!"

When my mom had come close enough to reality we left.

My automobile at the time was a black 1985 Cadillac Eldorado. Despite what a horrible car it was to own; I was very satisfied that this 'Beast' of a vehicle would be unstoppable on its way to the hospital.

After being admitted to a huge birthing suite, we began earnest waiting.

A menagerie of soothing, if obligatory, nurses percolated in and out of the room, until the arrival of our midwife.

A tall blonde women blocked the entrance to the room. Almost before I noticed her she had surveyed our fuchsia colored room. My wife's panting and groaning, coupled with the uncharacteristic muttering of curses had an anaesthesiologist in our room in minutes.

The blue gowned man came in and deftly administered the drugs. He said nothing and made no expressions until the drugs hit. My wife was holding onto me tightly despite her unfriendly mood. When the medicine had indeed killed the pain, she made a moan that caused a couple of faces in the room to blush.

The wonder doctor simply turned up the edges of his gray moustache into a smile and said. " There, all better."

The next several hours contained a lot of grunting and hollering. The noise however is nothing compared to the odors. Sweat, tears, blood. My wife even managed to vomit almost ten feet. I wont go into gory detail, but with the epidural, we interacted with every fluid in the body that day.

Finally with one last gush, out plopped the one absolute love in my life, Her misshapen head, swollen eyes, blue skin and pungent sticky outer slick were the most beautiful thing I had seen. Worthy of many kisses, the counting of toes and more kissing. The cheers of family are present on video. My memory contains only the cry of my daughter and her first breathes.

She is now pink and perfect and smells always like lotion and cookies. I smile daily at the thought of her.