Personal Narrative: Aubrey And Her

This was the “oh my god” I’m going to snap the towel rack in half. Green skin with rage, hulk style, bearing down contraction. It didn’t last long which was a relief but it was enough for me to hurry to get dressed and make my way down the stairs before the next one hit. I knocked on the door to where my sister was sleeping. “Bee” my water broke. Her name is Aubrey but we call her “bee” for short. I traced my fingers down the walls of the entry way as I made my way to the kitchen. My husband came in the door ready to go. I had to explain the situation Dr. B said was going on at the VA and my husband was in disbelief. (Take note here that’s strike 1). After an hour John, Aubrey and I all loaded up in his F150 pickup truck and made our way to

the base hospital.
At the time I didn’t think it was possible to hit every pot hole in a 12 mile ride but to my astonishment with each bump came another contraction and with each contraction came several scarcely profane words. John even tried warning me before hitting one “Here comes another one babe.” My comebacks were quiet comical “You’re damn right here comes another one!” I planted my feet on the truck floor as if I were bracing for impact while gripping the “oh shit handle”. “Sweet baby Jesus! John this is all your fault!” What usually was a 10 minute drive turned into an annoying Brittney Spears song of “hit me baby one more time” 30 minute long traffic jam. We should have just left the house when my water initially broke. We arrived at the hospital around 9:30 in the morning. They luckily had a birthing room just open and upon entering we noticed it literally was just filthily vacated. The sheets had not been changed, there were wires strung all over the place and the room just wasn’t patient presentable. (Strike 2). Now my husband is the quiet type. He very seldom gets angry and hardly ever lets it show. If