When a pregnant Christie’s water broke, the pain was unimaginable. She called her husband, begging him to come home, but he told her to take the subway to the hospital. Panicked and exhausted, she rushed to the subway, with her father-in-law’s reaction adding to the chaos of the day.
Hey everyone, I can’t believe I’m sharing this, but I think it’s important. Last Monday evening, I went into labor with my first child…
The pain hit me hard, and before I knew it, my water broke.
Panicking, I sprang to my feet with all the strength I could muster and called my husband, Francis, who was still at work. I begged him to come home as fast as he could.
“Francis, please, you have to come home now! The baby’s coming! My water broke,” I cried, my voice shaking with fear and pain.
To my shock, Francis told me to take the SUBWAY to the hospital. I was SPEECHLESS. How could he even suggest that?
The contractions were coming one after another, intense waves of pain that stole my breath. I hung up, heartbroken and in tears. But a primal fear gnawed at me.
I had to get to the hospital, and fast.
“Take the subway?” I muttered, clutching my stomach as another contraction hit. “How am I supposed to go… in this condition?” Tears welled up in my eyes, blurring my vision. But there was no time to dwell.
I had to get moving, for the sake of myself and the tiny life growing inside me.
I grabbed my bag, took a deep breath, and prepared to do the unthinkable.
Frustrated and in tears, I clutched my belly and stumbled out of the apartment. The air was muggy, making every step feel like a struggle. I managed to flag down a taxi, and with all the strength I could muster, I explained my situation to the driver.
“My water broke. I need to get to the hospital. Please help me,” I said, gasping.
The cabbie’s eyes widened, and he coldly shook his head. “Lady, I can’t have you ruining my seats. Sorry!” he said before speeding away.
I couldn’t believe it. Desperation gave me a burst of energy, and I half-ran, half-walked to the subway station. Each contraction felt like a wave crashing over me, leaving me gasping for air.
I stumbled down the stairs, clutching the railing for support. The station was crowded, people brushing past me without a second glance.
As I somehow made it to the subway, my phone rang. It was my father-in-law, John.
“Dad, I’m… I’m in labor. Francis told me to take the subway. I… I can’t believe it,” I managed, sobbing in pain.
My father-in-law’s voice turned sharp. “He said WHAT?! Christie, listen, I will…”
The call dropped and my phone battery died as I descended into the subway. Staring at the blank screen, I felt more alone than ever. My father-in-law’s unfinished sentence and whatever help he planned to offer hung in the dead air, leaving me reeling.
I struggled to focus, hoping he would find a way to help. But right then, all I could do was endure and pray that the train would take me to my destination soon.
The subway was crowded, the air thick with the scent of too many people. My contractions were getting stronger, and I could barely stand. A few kind strangers noticed my distress and offered their support.
One elderly woman placed a gentle hand on my arm. “Honey, where’s your husband?”
I managed a weak smile and said, “He told me to take the subway.”
The crowd around me buzzed with disbelief. “He what?” “That’s insane!” “You poor thing.”
Their reactions were a mix of outrage and sympathy, and though the pain was unbearable, their concern gave me a small measure of comfort. I wasn’t entirely alone.
Despite the pain, their outrage was oddly comforting. One young man, seeing my struggle, helped me into a seat and offered me water.
Another woman, her face full of worry, said, “Sweetie, you should be at the hospital, not on a subway.”
Tears welled up in my eyes. It was all Francis’s fault. He had put me in this TERRIBLE situation.
Finally, the train arrived at the station and thankfully, I didn’t have to walk long as the hospital was quite near. Still, I was too weak and exhausted to even stand.
A kind stranger, who had been with me through the subway ride, helped me get a cab for the short ride to the hospital entrance.
“Hang in there, you’re almost there,” he said softly, his voice a balm in my turmoil.
As soon as I arrived at the hospital, nurses whisked me into the labor and delivery ward. The lights were harsh, the sounds overwhelming. Doctors and nurses surrounded me, prepping me for delivery.
Through the haze of pain and chaos, I couldn’t stop thinking about my husband’s ignorance and my father-in-law’s reaction. Their voices echoed in my mind, a constant reminder of the day’s madness.
I gripped the edge of the bed, trying to steady my thoughts. All I wanted was to bring my baby into the world safely.
“Deep breaths, Christie,” a nurse said. “You’re doing great.”
Just as the nurses finished preparing me, my father-in-law burst into the room, his face contorted in anger and worry. His presence was like a lifeline.
“Christie, where’s Francis?” he demanded.
“AT WORK!” I managed to say between contractions. I was LIVID and in pain.
My father-in-law whipped out his phone and dialed Francis. “Why on earth would you tell her to take the subway?” His voice was loud enough for everyone in the room to hear.
I could hear Francis’s voice faintly through the phone. “Dad, I…”
My father-in-law cut him off, his face reddening. “You better get here, and fast.”
The next hour felt like an eternity. Nurses bustled around me, checking vitals and prepping for delivery. My father-in-law stayed by my side.
Every so often, he’d check his watch and mutter under his breath, his anger simmering just below the surface.
Finally, the door burst open again, and Francis appeared, looking like a deer caught in headlights.
Relief washed over me, tinged with a healthy dose of anger. He rushed to my side, his face etched with worry and guilt.
“I’m so sorry, Christie. I thought the subway would be quicker. Even if I wanted to make it home, I wouldn’t have been able to do it because of the crazy traffic. I didn’t mean to make things worse and just wanted you to get here as fast as possible.”
I stared at him, the words catching in my throat. The pain was making it hard to think straight, but a part of me still ached with betrayal.
“Look,” my father-in-law chimed in, his voice gruff but kind. “Let’s not waste time with blame. Right now, Christie needs our support and prayers. Let’s wait outside.”
Francis and I exchanged a shaky look of understanding. A wave of stabbing pain ripped through me, stealing the air from my lungs. I squeezed Francis’s hand so hard his knuckles turned white.
Hours later, amidst tears and cheers, our beautiful baby girl was born. The moment they placed her on my chest, all the pain and frustration melted away. This tiny, beautiful creature filled me with a love so fierce it took my breath away.
Gazing at our baby girl, Kristen, I whispered, “We did it. She’s finally here.” A wave of wonder washed over me at seeing the miracle nestled in my arms.
Reflecting on that chaotic day, I realized how easily communication can break down under stress. Francis and I had a big misunderstanding, but it was born out of concern for each other. In the end, what mattered most was that we were all here together, a new family.
Writing about this, I hope others see the importance of empathy and understanding during crises. Despite everything, our family is stronger, united by the love for our baby girl.
This experience has definitely changed us. Francis apologized profusely, vowing to be more present and communicative.
Looking back, it was a crazy, unforgettable day. A day that started with panic and ended with a miracle. A day that reminded me of the power of family, the importance of communication, and the sheer wonder of bringing new life into the world.
So, to all the expecting parents out there, remember: communication is key! Discuss your birthing plan beforehand, anticipate potential hiccups, and most importantly, be there for each other.
And hey, maybe skip the subway ride during labor! Let this story serve as a reminder to trust in your support system and lean on your loved ones when it matters the most.
Did your little miracle’s arrival go according to plan, or did you have some crazy surprises? Let’s share our motherhood journeys and tips for avoiding misunderstandings in the delivery room. Thanks for reading!
