She sat across the room, ten, maybe 15 feet away. I don’t think that she was aware that I was aware of her, and her condition. Last week she told me that her due date was two days away, which made her five days overdue.
She was uncomfortable, and so was I. I couldn’t relax. The checklist in my head continued to grow:
Bulb syringe? Oh boy.
Every time she moved; or grimaced I envisioned a little fella straining to escape. I recalled the last overdue lady who was in my care. “There is no way you are having this baby now,” I told her, seconds before the crown appeared.
I figured what’s the worst that can happen? Babies have been born since women have existed, and nine or so months prior to that, I think. There were tablecloths and kitchen knives, sturdy string and my own breath if needed. I could do this.
I didn’t have to, but knowing that I could is one of those gifts that my firefighting career gave me.