Home Birth (Part 3)

I was huge; about to pop. I got in my pick up truck and drove over.

When I pulled up, I could see her car in her drive way. It was about 9 a.m. I waddled up to her front door and knock/rattled her security screen door. No sound from inside. I had a moment thinking, “Maybe she’s taken the dog for a walk,” but my intuition immediately shot that down. She walks her dog at 7, without fail, because she doesn’t have a yard in which to let him out to potty.

I knocked again with my stomach starting to sink. I decided she wasn’t going to come to the door so I reached up for her spare key. I unlocked the security door and knocked hard on the wooden door. No response.

I unlocked the door and opened it into her living room. From the door mat, I could see all the way through her short hallway and into her bedroom, to her bed. Her little dog popped his head up. It was so weird that he didn’t bark at all. I thought, “This is it, she’s got be dead,” but I called out loudly, letting her know it was just me and that I was coming in. I was relieved when she startled awake. I stepped all the way in and closed the front door.

Three seconds later she had fallen out of bed and was on the floor dazed. I rushed in and started talking to her. At first she didn’t recognize me and didn’t understand what was going on. After a little explaining, she seemed to remember me. She got herself back up into bed, seemingly with no trouble, but her speech was slurred and she was drifting. My husband was worried and he called me. I gave him the run of things, and that she seemed off, but I didn’t think she needed an ambulance yet.