How I Almost Gave Birth In a Taxi Nine Years Ago
So, that title was just a bit over-stated. But still, it's time to tell you my most dramatic birth story, and I might as well milk the drama for all it's worth.
Nine years ago, Hubs and I were living in downtown Chicago with our then 17-month-old Adam. I was hugely pregnant with our second son, Stephen.
(By the way, let me just stop to tell you that until you have navigated a Chicago city bus with a toddler in one arm, a folded stroller in another, and a giant belly poking out front, then you have not yet lived, my friends. Those were some good, ableit wobbly-footed, times.)
It was Thanksgiving weekend, and all of our friends--ALL of them--were out of town. We, of course, had no family living nearby, because our family has the good sense to stay Down South, where God clearly intended people to live. Even though I was 36 weeks pregnant, we didn't worry too much about the lack of back-up, because I still had four weeks to go, right?
Unfortunately, I did not know Gestational Rule Number 487: the number of friends you have nearby is inversely proportionate to the likelihood that you're going to start having contractions five minutes apart.
And so it was, on that cold November night in 1998 that I awakened at 3 am with the familiar tightening in my belly that came and went, came and went all too regularly. I got up, dressed between contractions, and gently nudged Hubs awake. Just like it happens in the movies, I whispered, "It's time."
If I was about to give birth to a preemie, I did not have the mental energy to deal with a 17-month-old toddler in a hospital room at 3 a.m (remember, everyone we knew was out of town. There was no one to call to come and watch Adam.) I informed Hubs I'd be going to the hospital alone.
He looked at me like I was crazy.
But I explained my reasoning and I reminded him that the hospital was only six blocks away. If it had been daytime, I would have walked. I could take a cab directly from our high-rise to the ER entrance. My mind was made up, and Hubs remembered quickly that you do not argue with a woman in labor, though he was still as horrified and scared as I'd ever seen him.
We locked Adam in the apartment, dashed downstairs and Hubs flagged a cab. He helped me in and kissed me, and cab door slammed shut.
"St. Josph's emergency room," I told the driver. He turned to look at me in dismay.
"Are you about to have a baby in this cab?" he asked, glancing at my huge belly.
"I hope not," I muttered, and as he sped away, I leaned my head back against the dark vinyl seat. I closed my eyes and thought about the baby dancing in my tummy, trying to come out just a little too soon. I thought about my husband, who was surely out of his mind with worry. And I thought about the fact that I was alone, in labor, in a taxi, at 3 am, in downtown Chicago.
This boy better not give me any trouble when he's a teenager, I thought to myself.
I hate to disappoint, but the drama basically ends here. The two-minute drive to the ER was uneventful (though the cabbie still expected me to pay; you would think he'd consider that one a freebie, wouldn't you?). I checked in, labor was confirmed, and Hubs miraculously remembered one last friend we could call to help out. He joined me at the hospital around 7 am; Stephen was born healthy and pink just after lunch.
To this day, Stephen doesn't enter a room--he explodes into it. Clearly, he knows how to make an entrance.
Happy birthday, my boy. I'm so proud of you I could pop.












That is the greatest story! I would have done the exact same thing in making hubby stay home wit the young one. We mom's always think even in times of...well...pain.
Posted by: Kellyn | Wednesday, November 28, 2007 at 10:30 PM
What a great story...It's just so metropolitan :))
Happy Birthday kiddo!
Posted by: Lisa @ The Preacher's Wife | Wednesday, November 28, 2007 at 10:34 PM
How apropos for me! I'm due nov 30th with baby #3. I don't think I'll be taking a taxi, however!
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Posted by: Nichole | Wednesday, November 28, 2007 at 10:39 PM
I have a "went to the hospital alone" story, too.
Glad your boy didn't arrive in a taxi.
Posted by: Staci at Writing and Living | Wednesday, November 28, 2007 at 10:45 PM
Oh Shannon, I can totally relate.
Not to the taxi part, but to the not wanting to have your 17 month-old in the delivery room with no family in town and your friends are gone because it is (in my case) Christmas part.
Checked myself in alone, too. And my child is QUITE dramatic as well...
Happy Birthday to your 2nd biggest bear cub!
Posted by: nicole | Wednesday, November 28, 2007 at 10:49 PM
Here is the addendum:
Gego got a call from PapaDryer about 6AM and he said "Get here as soon as possible". I was able to get a flight out of here to Chitown and arrived about 11:30. I told the TAXI driver to get me to St. Joseph's as fast as possible because I had a Grandchild arriving very soon. Little did I know that that simple request would mean going over curbs at 50mph, dodging cars and buses, driving almost 100 mph on the freeway from Midway to the hospital, laying rubber when we happened to be stopped by a stoplight once on Lakeside drive near Navy Pier. As he careened around cars, made several illegal turns, I arrived at the hospital in 25 minutes. I paid him generously, Thanked the Lord that I was able to walk, and arrived in Shannon's room just in time to see Mr. Dryer holding a very quiet, swaddled angel. He was so still and quiet. Sometimes now, I try to remember that wonderfully quiet moment. I find it now when he visits and I ask if he wants me to read him a book. He cuddles close, reads along, and I remember that precious sight 9 years ago.
Happy Birthday, Stephen! Wooooooo Pigs Soooooie
Love ya bunches, Gego
Posted by: Gego | Wednesday, November 28, 2007 at 11:33 PM
Yesssss! Another birth story! I am 36 weeks (with #7) right now and having semi-regular contractions, so I am obsessed with birth stories!
Posted by: Myfriendconnie@SmockityFrocks | Wednesday, November 28, 2007 at 11:41 PM
I agree, that is a beautiful story! The ending made me cry. It's evident how much you love your son. Thanks for sharing, it was dramatic enough and wonderfully written.
Posted by: kristen | Thursday, November 29, 2007 at 12:35 AM
That is so urban! I love how you had to pay for the cab ride. Nice work, that. I just posted my birth story as well. Happy birthday to both our boys (yours is older!)
Posted by: Nora Bee | Thursday, November 29, 2007 at 01:10 AM
Happy birthday Steven.
I've got one like that too, but in my case it was a bit more fast-paced - my daughter was literally born in the back seat of our car at the taxi stand outside the maternity ward. She's four now and has been setting her own agenda ever since!
Posted by: Robin | Thursday, November 29, 2007 at 01:19 AM
what a fun story!
Happy Birthday Stephen.
Blessings,
K
Posted by: Karla ~ Looking Towards Heaven | Thursday, November 29, 2007 at 01:33 AM
I didn't have to go alone...I just got to go on my birthday! LOL Great story!
Posted by: Beth/Mom2TwoVikings | Thursday, November 29, 2007 at 06:10 AM
Happy Birthday Stephen!
That's a great birth story indeed :)
I'm going to stop commenting on the fact that you and your family share pretty much all the same birthdays as me and my family because it's just getting eerie :)
Posted by: Jenn | Thursday, November 29, 2007 at 06:12 AM
great story! I bet that cabbie drove fast. lol. Happy birthday Steven!
Posted by: Kristie | Thursday, November 29, 2007 at 06:16 AM
I've navigated the buses in Chicago with a baby in one arm and a stroller in the other but never with a pregnant belly. For some reason the bus driver never looked too happy. I also rode the el home from work and was surprised at how few people would offer their seats to me when my belly was taking up the entire aisle where I stood. After that I always offered my seat to any pregnant woman who got on the el.
Posted by: Kristen M. | Thursday, November 29, 2007 at 06:16 AM
I was born in the back seat of a car. I guess my mom is right I came into this world in a hurry and I've been in a hurry ever since. LOL
Posted by: Tammy | Thursday, November 29, 2007 at 06:36 AM
Wow! I missed that whole story. You were so brave!! Happy Birthday, Stephen.
Posted by: Queen Mother | Thursday, November 29, 2007 at 06:51 AM
Oh my goodness, we have so much in common! My daughter's birthday is today--but we got stuck in the traffic for the Arkansas/LSU football game at War Memorial Stadium. Happy birthday to Stephen!
Posted by: Wendy | Thursday, November 29, 2007 at 07:09 AM
We should have known then that Dryer child #2 would keep us all on our toes! He's a delightful joy to our whole family. What a kid!!!
Posted by: mimi2six | Thursday, November 29, 2007 at 07:10 AM
I so enjoy your stories. This one reminded me of the time I paced the living room while Handsome Hubby watched the Cotton Bowl. I felt like a mare in labor. Finally, I told him it was time, and we jumped up and raced the 35 minutes to the hospital. My water broke on the way, and well, I was in severe pain for the rest of the drive, and then, I had to walk all the way inside and upstairs to labor and delivery. Maybe I should remind my handsome boy of that on his birthday?
Posted by: Dee/reddirtramblings | Thursday, November 29, 2007 at 07:13 AM
What a beautiful, brave story. Thank you for sharing it with us.
Posted by: Llama Momma | Thursday, November 29, 2007 at 07:16 AM
well no drama filled stories here - but I enjoy reading others.
We also had no family closer than 3 hrs when I was preg and went into labor both times. Mostly harder w/our 2nd one b/c we too had to deal w/what will we do w/number 1 child. A friend offered to watch her - but we were not all that close (physically or friendship-ly). Thankfully I was in labor long enough - and with a few hour pause at home - was able to wait til my fil drove mil out to our house. What a relief!
Posted by: Lorri | Thursday, November 29, 2007 at 07:16 AM
I was living in Philly when mine came, so I can relate to the whole city bus, no car, cab ride to the ER.
Only, I wish I could've taken a cab. My MIL drove me in her teeny tiny miata... and I was a fat cow and she every single bump on the way.
Great story!
heather
(PS. I'm in the south now... well, VA... but it's below the Mason-Dixon line.)
Posted by: Haether @ Desperately Seeking Sanity | Thursday, November 29, 2007 at 07:45 AM
Fun story. Thanks for sharing.
Posted by: Summer | Thursday, November 29, 2007 at 07:58 AM