Rainbow

The sheets of rain pound against the windshield as he transverses the mountain curves. The blades seem to leave more water than they remove. He considers pulling over, but the soft groan from the backseat makes his foot push down firmer. If this were any other circumstance, he would, but he had to press on.

He suffers a glance back behind him. His wife is stretched out, her hands holding her round belly. It was too early. The baby wasn’t due for another two months. The weekend trip was their last get away before they started their final preparation. He planned to paint the nursery next weekend. The crib wasn’t arriving until next month.

The steering wheel moves under his hands as the truck hits standing water. He tears his eyes off his wife. He must focus on the road ahead. He is reminded of looking through a waterfall except the beauty and wonder has been replaced with fear and anxiety. How he wishes he could pull over and let the storm pass. If their child could only understand? It had to wait for a hospital. He thought when the time came; he would be the cool, rational man who calmly drove his wife to the hospital. If given those extra months, he could be that man. The time would have prepared him for this. In time, when he shares this story with young couples, it would be a warning to be prepared for anything. Regardless of the outcome, he would not look back on this memory with joy. Hoping for the best, he pressed on.

Little did he believe the weight of the world would pour down, much like the rain outside once he heard those simple words? “I think it’s time.” Through history, men have heard and responded to those words. He was going to be better than this. He was going to keep his head about him. He would not panic.

The trunk jolted as he runs through a rough patch on the road. “What was that?” He must slow down. The jostling could hurry the process faster than he could drive. The nearest hospital was still twenty minutes away. Twenty minutes of normal road driving, that is. “Just a bump” He says. His ability to answer her in a calm voice brings a small amount of pride. He could do this. He could be the protector of his family. He had to get his wife, his cherished love, to the hospital safely where his child, his first child, could be delivered by a professional.

The last swipe of the blades gives him a glimpse of a sign. He must slow down to see it clearly. As he lets up off the accelerator, his wife breathes a sigh of relief, “Are we there?”

The sign can’t be correct. If he believed the sign, he was on the wrong road. When did he make the wrong turn? The sign should have had the Brilliant white “H” on blue in the corner. It should have told him to stop worrying. It should have been the correct sign. The information was foreign to him. The wrong destinations were being announced. Was he going the right way? Had he passed the turn he needed? Should he press on? Or turn around? “Honey?” His wife’s voice was quiet, but full of deep concern. He needed to reassure her. But how? How does one give assurance they didn’t possess? He pulls off the road in front of the sign. How he wished he was in his car? His car would have the GPS and guidance he needed so desperately, but his in laws insisted that their 85 Bronco would better for driving up to the cabin. The drive up had drained his cell battery. They plugged his phone into the charger back at the cabin before the pains started. He forgot to grab it during the panic. Would his reliance on technology really be his ruin, like his grandparents told him so many times? What to do?

The pressure of her wife’s hand on his shoulder brings a flood of worry. She shouldn’t be sitting up. She should lay down. She needed to rest. Worry could worsen her condition. “Where are we?”

Before he could catch the words, they escape. “I don’t know.” Oh, if he could only rewind and redo. How could he let her down when she needed him the most? Shaking his head in defeat, he can’t think of anything to do but be ready to deliver the child inside the car. He pulls the first aid kit from under the passenger seat. “Oh no. Oh, no.” His wife shakes his shoulder. “You can’t do this. No. Please”

If the rain would let up for just a moment, it has closed them off from the outside world. He tried to remember the last time they passed headlights on the road. It had been miles and miles. The cabin had been a wonderful retreat until her initial pain. Now, he regrets the whole adventure. They had been so careless, so reckless. Their child might die because they wanted a small vacation before its arrival. How selfish could they be? His wife could die. Women die all the time in childbirth. His heart pounds in his chest. He can feel each pump send a painful shock wave through his chest and down his arm. Please, no, he thought. I can’t suffer a heart attack. Not now!

“Just breathe.” His wife is relaxing in the back. One hand rests on his shoulder while the other is rubbing his round belly. “It is going to be okay. Just breathe.”

A brilliant light fills the truck and disappears. A car? He hopes, but it was too quick. The sudden sharp rumble rocks the truck. The lightning has provoked the rain to intensify. This storm had been nowhere on any of his weather maps. How could a squall such as this spring up without warning?

“I think the pains have eased.” Before relief could settle his nerves, she squeezes his shoulder, and then gives a sharp gasp. “Or not.” She doubles over in the seat. “Oh. What are we going to do?” He couldn’t stop thinking about all the ways this could end badly. He would be alone. The love of his life was going to die because he forgot his cell phone on the counter. It was the middle of the afternoon. She was only seven months pregnant. Nothing should have brought on this episode. They should be sitting on the front porch watching the boats. They should be sipping lemonade and eating chips from the bag. He pounds his frustration out on the steering wheel and dashboard. In response, the engine coughs and dies. A string of obscenity springs from his mouth, surprising even him. He had been years since he had used that strong of language. His wife may never have even heard him swear before today. Oh, good thing you kept your head during this time, he thought.

After several attempts to restart the engine, he gives up. It has been decided for him. He was going to stay right here and deliver his child. He let all the information he had ever heard about delivering babies come flooding into his mind. The one he grabs onto is a sweet elderly woman who said. “Don’t worry. Women have been having babies since the world began. It ain’t nothing new. It is just God performing a miracle each and every time.” I need a miracle, he prays.

He looked back at his wife. Fear and worry filled her eyes and covered her face. He would need to calm her before he could proceed. He turned in his seat to face her. A brilliant light flooded the cab along with instant thunder. The storm was overhead. She startled at the crashing sound, but she didn’t stop shaking. “We can do this, love.” He kept a hold of her hand as he slid over the front seat into the back. “You don’t need to worry. We are going to let nature take its course. I will be right here the whole time.”

Her grip bore down on his hand. She was bent forward. Her face was turning red. She started gasping. Her gasps turned to sobs. “I want my mommy.” She cried.

“I do too.” He said with a smile. She met his smile for an instant. The next pain turns her face a sinister red. “You need to breathe. You must breathe through the pain.”

“I can’t. I just can’t.”

“You must.” He helped her move sideways in the seat with her legs resting on the seat before him. As the next pain came, she let out a shuddering breath, but she didn’t breathe in until the contraction had stopped. That was less than a minute apart, he thought. The baby would be here soon. Reality set in that he would deliver his first child. It caused his stomach to twist and flutter. His nerves send bile up his throat. You must control yourself, he thought.

On the next contraction, she pressed back against the door. She moved her legs apart. “It’s coming. It’s…” She turned crimson in the face. He lifted her skirt. He pressed her knees together to remove her underwear before the next contraction. “I have to pu…” He looked up to observe her darken face. He peered down to see the top of the child’s head. Head first; something finally went right, he thought.

“You are doing good.” His words felt so weak. He tried to remember the words he had prepared to say during this time. Offering support and encouragement while the doctor delivered their baby. He wanted his wife to hear the love spoken that had created their precious child. He had envisioned her sweating face gazing up at him, astounded by his wonderful words and bedside manner. His words were failing. 

She groans as she pushes the child free. He holds his daughter in his hands. She is the most beautiful sight. As he gazes at the pink skin hidden in what appears to be mucus or snot, he falls in love instantaneously. He had seen so many tv programs and movies illustrating the hideous little monster that escapes from the mother’s womb. He had found it repulsive time and again. However, today, his daughter has captured his heart. Her tiny features peeking out from the mess surrounding them brings tears of joy streaming down his face. She is perfect in every way. He wiped the mess from her face and handed her over to his wife. Previous advice from all his friends and family floods into his head. He had to deliver the placenta and keep it for the doctors to examine. Did he cut the cord before or after? What could he cut the cord with? He hadn’t thought about the cord. Before the panic could take over, his wife points toward the glove box. “Dad keeps a sharp knife in there.”

“Thank you.” He leans over and kisses her. He settles a hand on his daughter’s back for a moment. Sliding into the front seat, he finds the knife, climbs back over the seat, and freezes. “Don’t we have to tie it off or something?”

His wife traces a finger across the little girl’s forehead and down her cheek. She points toward the trunk space. “You can use some fishing line.” She places the finger inside the tiny hand. The tiny fingers tighten around it. He slides into the trunk area and finds the fishing line. It doesn’t look clean enough. “He keeps a new spool in the bottom tray.”

How could she be so calm? Her hand gracefully waves in the air as she spoke and returns to the baby a moment later. He stares at his wife. She is more beautiful than he can remember. She looks up with a smile. A peace radiates from her. “Find it.”

He searches the bottom tray and produces the line. In a few quick steps, he secures the cord and cuts it. He lets the tissue mass come and lay on the floorboards. He moves behind his wife and holds her along with their newborn daughter. Nothing had gone as planned, but it turned out perfect. “Honey, look.” She points out the window. The rain had stopped. The sun was shining. A few miles away sat the hospital with a brilliant rainbow arched above.

“Rainbow. We should name her Rainbow.” She said.

“It’s perfect.”