I became an unreliable narrator when I insisted on going. Having to move bowels while hooked to IVs shifted my pendulum from a patient with unusual readings to a pregnant pest with annoying tendencies. Contractions were carefully monitored. My likely delivery time suggested hours of contemplating. “You’ll have to wait,” an overworked nurse said, then flushed my pleas. The feeling intensified. I had to go. The nurse moved on and I moved myself to the potty. As my water broke and a baby emerged, I screamed. “My goodness,” the nurse said on her sudden return. “Why didn’t you say something?”
Jen Schneider is an educator who lives, works, and writes in small spaces throughout Pennsylvania.