Answering a Call for Help

I’ve been on a state of high alert ever since I received Glenda’s call this morning telling me she was in labor and needed to go to the hospital. Envisioning myself delivering her baby in the car, I grabbed my husband away from his conference call with a client and said, “Come on, we are taking Glenda to the hospital.” He willingly came along on this mission of mercy.

We made it to her apartment in Roslyn in record time and after our call out came a scared girl with a belly the size of a giant basketball. No one had been home when she went into labor. She said her pains were 3 minutes apart as we sped away toward Arlington Hospital. As she suffered in silence, my husband called ahead to try to find out where she should go.

Unfortunately the instructions to take her to the Emergency Room turned out to be wrong. So after getting poor Glenda out of the car and back in, we headed to another building where labor and delivery take place.

There was no one to meet her with a wheel chair. Instead I accompanied her up to the third floor where I wished her luck as I turned her over to the staff.

I feel like I’ve been pacing the floor smoking a Stogie as I wait to find out the news. I finally called this afternoon and spoke to Glenda, still in pain but with no baby delivered yet. Her mother had left her restaurant job to be with her in the hospital, so I was glad she had company.

I’m sure this is just good practice for when I have grandchildren. But it’s exciting and a little scary at the same time.

Meanwhile I called her school to let them know why she wasn’t there. I arranged to borrow a carseat for Glenda’s trip home with her new baby. But that will be for another day.