My favorite, funniest, and craziest Good Friday memory happened last year:
We were going to have our first baptism in our village directly following a Good Friday service. (We were usually only able to baptize when we met with other churches in their villages, since our creek was too low.) We were hosting two other churches that would gather with us.
Seth spent Thursday digging out a baptismal hole in our creek, and I baked over 100 scones for a tea. I was “great with child,” child being Carson. (I’m usually “great” from about five months on.) 🙂 He was due on April 23. I was never early.
But on Good Friday in the early dawn, my water broke. Contractions didn’t start immediately, so I pretty foolishly held onto hope that Seth could still preach and perform the planned baptisms. However, by 6:00 AM Seth decided to ask our coworker to preach and to substitute as the Baptist and tea-overseer after the service.
Not only was it Good Friday, it was my second son’s birthday. Colin was turning three. I had plans for his birthday, as well as my daughter’s first birthday, which was supposed to be 1 ½ weeks later. She wasn’t even walking yet. Poor thing was still a baby herself. And I was 2 ½ weeks early. In my book, this was not a good day for Carson to come!
I didn’t want to go to the hospital too early. I helped dress other children, packed bags, and cooked Colin’s favorite mac and cheese and stored it in the fridge for happy-birthday consumption later that day. Contractions were regular and difficult by the time Seth left at 8:00 to set up the church and take the kids to be babysat by our coworker’s wife. She had my three babies and her own three to watch—6 children aged not-quite 5 and under. What a job!
By 8:45, I started to worry a little. I probably should have left by now for the hospital. We left at 9:00 as soon as Seth arrived back, and though I veiled my concern, I did think that we wouldn’t be at the hospital long before I delivered.
I was wrong! (and right) I could feel the change during our travel to the hospital. It was time to be delivered, and we still had 15 minutes to reach the hospital. Seth is not the person you would call in an emergency car delivery. He has a history of fainting in stressful medical situations and has fainted an average of once per year of marriage thus far. I did not tell him of my distress.
When we hit the major highway leading into town, I decided to call the doctor. If he didn’t leave now, he wouldn’t be at the hospital on time to deliver me. I was told that the doctor was out riding his bike and wasn’t working today. Clearly they hadn’t understood. Now Seth had heard me and understood my plight.
Town was deserted because of the holiday. I instructed Seth to run all stop signs to get there!!
I walked myself into the hospital having multiple obvious signs of delivery (I’ll spare you), and with almost-incredible self-control, ignored the silly nurse who asked, “Are you pregnant?” instead turning to her friend to announce that I was in labor and thought I would deliver right then.
I was almost in tears at how slowly everyone else seemed to move. Suffice it to say that after walking myself to the changing room, walking myself to the inspection bed, and walking myself immediately thereafter to the delivery table, Carson was born less than 7 minutes after arriving at the hospital.
The doctor (not the bike-rider, but a woman doctor from the same office) arrived 45 minutes later to help me and said, “You don’t even give a girl time to shower!”
I wasn’t planning on Carson coming less than a year after his sister, but how could I imagine life without him? Next week he turns one, and I can’t even describe how much I love him. He’s in the running for best Meyers baby; that’s a stiff competition. Standards were set high by his siblings.
Welcome, baby Carson. And Good Friday to you as well.