The year was 1999, it was December and everyone was worried about Y2k. Would our digital world come to a silent halt as the date in the computers changed to 2000? Would the world be in complete chaos as every automated product stopped working from one change in a number at midnight on January 1? That was the backdrop for how the world looked on December 4, 1999. I personally was a college student just trying to make it through my last semester of classes before the birth of my first baby.
I was sitting at home in my apartment on December 4, 1999 trying to get some work done. I had sent my husband to the grocery store to buy some food, so you know I must not have been feeling pretty bad because I wasn't out shopping with him. Actually, my feet were swollen to the size of an NBA basketball player's and it was extremely uncomfortable for me to walk around due to both the feet swelling and all of the Braxton Hicks contractions that I was experiencing. Healthwise, this was my worst pregnancy, but it was also my first so I was ignorantly oblivious of how bad it really was and was just doing my best to make it through so I could finish up my classes and graduate. While he was out shopping, my water broke. I wasn't entirely sure that it had broken. I just had a lot of wetness after using the bathroom and I thought it was odd, but lots of odd things happen when you're pregnant, trust me. However, after the wetness, I started having a lot of pain, strong tight contractions that were pretty close together. I believe they started out 5 minutes apart, just about the timing of when they tell you to head to the hospital. But this was back in the era before cell phones. I didn't really have any way of getting to the hospital on my own. My husband had the car and I had no way of reaching him. Oh wait, I did have the pager that we got through the hospital. I picked it up and dialed the number. Those little boxes provided one-way communication. Basically you dial the number and the box shows an alert that someone is calling you from a specific number. When you receive a page, it shows the number that tried to call you and you respond to them by going over and picking up a retro phone that was connected to a phone jack that’s connected through physical phone lines to a phone company, and you dialed them back. So I dialed the #, ***-**** and waited. BZZZ, BZZZ, where's that sound coming from? Oh, there's the pager sitting right there on the dresser where Glen left it because he was spending the day home with me on SATURDAY. I waited about 30 very long minutes for him to arrive home from the grocery store. I don't know why I didn't think of it, but he got home, assessed the situation and determined that it was time to call the hospital. I was 22 and a noob at having a baby and I wasn't thinking that clearly. The doctor talked to him, found out how close my contractions were and then talked to me and then determined that I should come on down to the hospital. For some reason, we lived on the far east side of Tucson on Wilmot Rd which was near Glen's workplace at Arete Associates, but our hospital was on the Northwest side of Tucson which was very convenient for both sets of grandparents to drop by and visit on their way to church the next day, but not at all convenient for me to get to in the throes of labor and grindingly painful contractions. We passed by at least 2 other hospitals on our way to our chosen hospital and the bumps and twists and turns caused by Glen's smooth frantic driving were almost unbearable.
Somehow we made it to the hospital and got checked in. The hospital was luckily very unbusy and I was able to walk in the door and up to the 4th floor on foot. (I realized later that hospitals provide wheelchairs for pregnant-about-to-give-birth mothers and that you don't have to hobble your way through the hospital on foot, but live and learn!
Long story short, this kid grew up too fast! He’s now an adult who lives in North Carolina and doesn’t need much help from mom. The years passed by all too fast, so treasure them and make them last. One day soon your child will move out and you’ll be sitting at your computer (like I am!) reminiscing about where the time went.
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