I had said that I wanted the potatoes dug before the baby arrived. I shouldn’t have. She was a week late and the potatoes were still in the ground. I had been busy getting other work done but it was becoming obvious that she was waiting for me to get to work in the garden. Forty one weeks and I was digging potatoes. Mike was busy prepping the wheat field for next spring and the kids were taking turns riding the tractor and playing with the worms unearthed as I dug. I finished the red potatoes at the same time that Mike had finished the field, also the same time the kids were ready for lunch. We called it a day in the garden, loaded the potatoes and headed home.
It would be another week before baby arrived and needless to say I was more than ready to lose the extra girth. It’s surprising how much more difficult daily tasks are when you belly is “out to here”.
Sunday morning we skipped church. I was so tired of people telling me I was still pregnant and telling me we’d better start thinking about a plan “B” to get the baby out. Side note: 42 weeks is normal in countries other than the impatient U.S.. This is accompanied by healthier babies and much lower infant deaths. So yes I will wait (crabbily) until they arrive on their own. Instead of church we loaded up the family and headed back out to the garden. We had just had a hard frost and the squash vines were done for the year.
We picked a trailer load of squash that morning. The kids gathered the small ones while Mike and I collected the large ones, and the random mittens, coats and boots that were being scattered among the patch. This was the last of the squash we were growing for our seed contract with Baker Creek Seed Co. (my favorite seed company!). There was still the russet potatoes the dig but once again it was lunch time. I prefer to eat dinner after my work is done which tends to be after supper. Apparently that’s not how the rest of the family works. The squash was done so it was time to eat.
The rest of the day was the usual Sunday routine; clean the house and try to get a weeks worth of laundry washed an put away before supper. I told Mike I was pretty sure the baby was going to arrive soon, thinking sometime before Wednesday. Mike must have had another feeling. He called my parents and asked they would take the kids for the night “just in case”.
I was folding the never ending mountain of laundry and decided to text the midwives to give them a “heads-up” that “baby might come tonight but I’m not really sure.” Contractions were there but nothing to time. Just like that I was done folding, the laundry wasn’t done but I was. I also asked the midwives to make their way our direction knowing they had about an hour and a half drive to get to the farm.
Mike had settled in to watch the Sunday night football game and the kids had just left. I was obviously not good for any work so I joined him in the living room.
“My water just broke.”
Looking back Mike said it was then that he knew that the midwives weren’t going to make it in time.
He helped me to the bathroom and waited outside the door. We had joked earlier that he should just wear gloves for the evening or at least have a pair in his pocket. He did neither. (The story of our second baby here will explain the glove joke.)
“You might want to grab some gloves.” I hollered.
Luckily he didn’t bother to look for them. He wouldn’t have made it in time and they were only at the other end of the dining room. Mike delivered another baby like it was just another Sunday.
The kids hadn’t been gone more than a half hour and Mike was able to call with the good news of a healthy baby girl. My brother had sent a text about the same time. “Good luck. Hope everything goes well.” to which Mike replied “It did. It’s a girl!”
Mike had informed the family just as the midwives arrived. They relieved him of his midwife duties and took care of baby and I from there.