Labor started sometime on Wednesday afternoon. Abby started feeling something and she called me up at work to ask me to come home early, if I could. I knew what this was about, so I let my colleagues at work know what was going on and quickly scooted home. When I got home, Abby seemed to be in pretty good shape. The contractions weren’t really bothering her, and they seemed to be pretty far apart. Just in case, we called the Birth Home around 7:30 just to check in and they basically told us we can come in if we want. But, if Abby thinks it’s still early then we should get some rest. Since the contractions were really far apart and not very intense, we stayed home. It was nearly [first child] Angel’s bedtime, so we all went to bed. Abby promised to wake me up if anything was going to happen.

Around midnight, Abby woke me up and said “They’re pretty intense now.” We called the Birth Home and said we were coming in. But then Abby timed the contractions and they were between 7 and 10 minutes apart so she thought we should wait. We called the Birth Home and told them. They said not to worry, but we could come in if we wanted to. The rule of thumb is to call when the contractions are 5 minutes apart. We weren’t there yet, so we went back to bed.

From this point on, the details get fuzzy, for reasons that are about to become obvious.

Around 1:45, Abby woke me up again and said, “I need to poop.” While on the toilet, she had a contraction. 7 minutes later, she had another. So far so good. Then, she had another contraction 3 minutes later. Time to worry. She skipped the “5 minutes apart” rule altogether. 3 minutes later, another contraction. As this contraction passed, she turned to me and said, “This baby’s coming now.”

Then, she groaned for the first time that night as her water broke.

I, of course, panicked.

I ran 3 or 4 times from the toilet to the bed. After I got that out of my system, I called the Birth Home. They asked me how Abby was doing. Abby said, “I can feel the baby’s head.” They told me, “You’re not going to make it. Hang up. Call 9-1-1.”

The following is a rough approximation of my conversation with the 9-1-1 dispatcher:

“9-1-1 emergency dispatcher. How can I help you?”

“My wife is having a baby.”

“How far along is she?”

“She can feel the baby’s head.”

“Is she lying down”

“No, She’s on the toilet.”

“You need to get her off the toilet and have her lie down on the floor. You don’t want the baby to end up in the toilet.”

I turned to Abby and said, “Hunny, you need to get off the toilet.”

Abby squatted on the floor.

“Now apply pressure on the birth canal to keep the baby from coming out.”

“Umm, the baby’s head is out now.”

“Okay. You’re going to have to deliver this baby. Is your wife lying down now?”

“No. She’s kinda squatting.”

“She really needs to lie down on the floor. You don’t want to drop the baby on its head.”

I turned to Abby and firmly said, “Hunny, you NEED TO LIE DOWN!”

Abby leaned back on her hands behind her, but was technically still squatting. It was good enough for me.

“Okay. Hold on to the baby’s head so it doesn’t fall. Now find a clean cloth and clear the baby’s mouth so it can breath.” This was a very difficult request for me, since it was hard to hold a phone, the baby’s head, and a towel at the same time. I used my finger instead of a cloth.

Less than a minute after Makayla’s head came out, the rest of her body followed. The 9-1-1 dispatcher told me to wrap her up in a clean towel. The phone slipped out. I think it was at this point that I screamed at the dispatcher that I couldn’t hold the phone and do all these things at the same time. She told me to put the phone to my shoulder. I tried leaving the phone on the floor and put my head down on it. It didn’t work too well. Eventually, I figured out that I needed to hand the baby to Abby. Then, the dispatcher told me to look for a piece of string or a shoelace to tie off the umbilical cord. There were no shoes around, and I’m not much into sewing. Instead, I used a piece of extra wide dental floss.

About this time, the paramedics arrived. I ran downstairs, open the door, and ran back upstairs without waiting for the five firemen and paramedics from the Hillsborough Fire Department. After finishing the job that I started and taking some information from me, they took Abby and Makayla to Mills Peninsula hospital in Burlingame.

And Angel slept through the whole thing.