No Room at the Inn

D-Day+9(and counting).

All geared up and nowhere to go. Clearly, the hospital maternity ward and our little schnitzel know nothing about the musings of one John ‘Hannibal’ Smith (aka the leader of TV’s smash 80’s action series, The A-Team), and his infamous mantra…

“I love it when a plan comes together.”

Because so far, nothing is going to plan. Despite already being 9 days overdue, we thought we finally had the ball rolling when we were booked in for an induction today at 2pm. Early this morning, we got a call that we had to be bumped back to 6pm. Okay…no biggie. Then, a couple hours before heading in, we get another call informing us of a sudden emergency birthing priority (that’s code for: We don’t want to miss the next epiosde of “Offspring”), and to which, also means…

“There’s no room at the Inn.”

It’s a familiar story that goes waaaay back, (I think it was an episode of The Brady Bunch). A “young” (ahem) pregnant couple turned away at their moment of need. My wife says it’s because of the emergency, but I suspect it’s because they didn’t believe she was a virgin. That, and the Three Wise Guys (re: Stooges) DVD under my arm, did us no favors (what am I supposed to watch while all this is going on?). And the donkey we rode up on, did nothing to sweeten the deal or motion our case further. Not quite sure who the bigger “ass” was in the end…(no need to comment, my love).

But they did another CTG just to monitor how things we’re going, before assuring us that we will definitely be inducing our little fella at 2pm tomorrow. So, that still gives him 10 hrs to still slip out into the world on Independence Day (fingers crossed for real, this time).

But, the truth be known, they were really, really, REALLY busy. Heaps of babies coming into the world in all manner of ways. We even ran into a brand new dad with his baby wrapped in a tea towel, just arriving with his wife in the back of an ambulance out front!

So, we did what any other couple would do who’ve waited this long already…

We went out for Chinese! And why not? It’s our last chance to eat in a restaurant that doesn’t have you ordering through a Clown’s Mouth, for a while.

So, one more sleepless night for both of us and hopefully (please, please, please, please, please, please, please), LET US IN tomorrow. I assure you, the last thing I want to do, is to bust open the barn doors on my own!

“I pity the fool.” — B.A. Baracus



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