Pull Off the Road, I’m Having a Baby!

By Jennifer Brookins


An excerpt from: Tharon Ann
Amazon reviewer: 5 out of 5 stars


These last weeks of pregnancy make me feel more like a blimp than anything else. I think I’m having quadruplets. I’m on the verge of a catnap when the first labor pains jolt me out of sleep. True to form, they skip the preliminaries and jump to the chase. They’re five minutes apart when my thoughts flashback to Madrid when I came close to having Romie on the clinic steps. I call Mary to let her know they’re five minutes apart. She doesn’t seem the least unnerved but consoles me in a calm, loving voice,
“Jenny there’s no time for me to drive 45 minutes to pick you up, then drive another 45 minutes to the hospital, but not to worry everything will be OK.”
“Everything will be OK?
“Yes. Everything will be OK? Maybe I should call an ambulance. Oh my God,here comes another one.”
“Honey by the time the ambulance arrives it will be too late. No, you drive yourself.”
“Drive myself?”
“Yes, drive yourself.”
“Drive myself where?”
“Drive yourself to the hospital. I’ll meet you there and take care of the boys.”
The kids help me into the car while I pray the two dollars worth of gas I put in yesterday is enough to get us to the hospital 45 minutes away. As I pull out, the sun is going down fast as we drive along this desolate country road. My labor pains are growing more intense, now at three minutes intervals. I feel like this baby is about to fall down between my legs on top of the brakes. Maybe I should pull over and have it in one of the cornfields over there. I’m trying to stay calm but Romie is kicking the back of my car seat, rocking back and forth repeatedly saying,”I want M&M’s,” “I want M&M’s,” “Mommy, I want M&M’s.”
I’ve got just enough gas left to pull into guest parking at JFK Hospital. The pains are now one minute apart as I drive my Chevy up to, and almost through the glass entrance door. I waddle out of the car, and grab the kids by their shirttails, Romie is still screaming at the top of his lungs, “I want M & M’s.” I announce to everyone within ear short, “I’m having a baby,”and throw the keys on the front desk in the reception room and say, “Park the car if there’s enough gas.”
The nurses and doctors in the emergency room are shocked that I drove such a distance fully dilated. Right now this baby doesn’t care what I do or where I am. It only knows it’s good to go. However, everyone knows what Romie wants because the candy machine’s out of order. As they wheel me upstairs to the delivery room, I can still hear his little whiny voice trailing in the background,
“Mommy, I want M & M’s.”
I’m rushed into the delivery room where my water bag immediately breaks. The nurse wipes the sweat off my forehead, whispers in my ear that despite all odds, a frank breech notwithstanding, my little son is here. Unlike a normal delivery, he came out with his feet pointed downward, his hands reaching up, and his head tilted back. His birth could have had serious complications.The maternity ward is packed tonight. Even though I paid the hospital bill in advance, I’m surprised to find myself on a bed in the hallway. After all we’ve been through together, I’m too happy to care where I am. It’s almost surreal that only months ago we drove across America in the sweltering heat of summer. Zola weighed less than three lbs, yet here we are 1 1/2 months later. I’ve given birth to an eight lb. baby and we’re out of that hellish life in Hollywood.

Review: “Jennifer Brookins memoir Tharon Ann is reminiscent of Mark Twain, Will Rogers and other authors who write in unconventional ways. It is a revelation of her struggle to find a successful and more deeply, meaningful
life. She does so with self deprecating humor, passion, and sheer determination. This book led me to deeply reflect on my own and humanity’s struggles and destiny.” Amazon.com reviewer, Randall Woods: “I highly recommend this 5-star memoir.”

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