If You Are Ever in Trouble...

...call my husband. He will find and protect you.

It all happened on Saturday night. I arrived on the labour ward, ready for my 8-hour evening shift that went from 15:30-23:30 pm. It was an incredible shift of learning alongside 4 amazing midwifes.

The family I was linked with for the shift, was in rip-roaring labour and had placed two calls to their midwife without contacting her. They left messages and called the back-up. They again left messages and phoned a third back-up midwife, who arrived shortly after with a student.

In the meantime, the first two midwives received the phone messages and arrived as well! So, it was me and 4 midwives in one room. It was basically my heaven. And the one in charge happened to be the one and only Anne Barkum.

Anne is basically an angel. She's an Orthodox nun by vocation, and midwife by trade. And she manages to blend it all into a powerful mix of strength, love and sensational labour support. She was my midwife for both children, along with her wonderful clinic partner at the time, Sarah Lawrence. Sarah is now raising and homeschooling her three beautiful children and has become a dear friend of mine.

So, back to the birth. It was a beautiful birth, and the energy in the room buzzed with strength, SO MUCH strength. There were many helping hands, so I mostly absorbed the beauty. I did a bit of charting, filled in the spaces when a wash cloth was needed and grabbed a dry towel for the freshly born babe.

When it was all over, and the new addition was bundled and sent home with his parents, I sat at the desk to chart before the end of my shift.

I started to chat with a fellow nurse I hadn't seen in awhile and before I knew it, the clock struck twelve. So, I scurried into my street clothes and hit the parking lot.

About halfway home, I became ravenous. My mind wandered to the then empty fridge and I realized I needed to stop and grab a bite to eat. I was so hungry!! The "OPEN" sign on Boston Pizza was gleaming bright, so I parked and ducked in for a plate of nachos.

I considered calling Bry to let him know where I was, but figured he was asleep in bed and I decided not to disturb him.

Around 2 am, I pulled up to a fully lit house. The curtains were drawn back, and through the front windows, I saw the worried frame of my husband, phone held to his head with earnest.

Oh NO.

With wide eyes and a worried tone he asked "Where have you been?!" He had a police file open on me, he had asked the security officer at the hospital parking lot to scour around for our truck and/or my body. He phoned my collegues on night shift to inquire when I had left. It was funny and horrible all at the same time.

I gave him a huge hug, APOLOGIZED and thanked him for such concern. I must admit that I DID feel awfully loved and a wee bit silly. OH MY. I phoned the nursing unit to assure them I was alive. They had a good laugh when I told them the story, and they grounded me from late night Boston Pizza runs.

What a night it was!

(photo credit: flickr pshab)