A Tourist in Mayberry

6/6) Sienna's Side of the Story, as told to Celebrity Magazine

I was stir crazy and worried sick about my baby. According to my baby book, What to Expect When You Are Expecting, I was not supposed to take a hot bath, but I wanted one. If I couldn't take a hot bath, I was going to take a hot shower, but dammit (sorry for cussing, baby) there was no hot water. This place sucked.

Maybe, I could heat some water up and at least take a whore's bath in the kitchen sink. I reached in the cabinet to get a big pot, and I felt a sudden, sharp pain. It almost brought me to my knees. Was I in labor? I paused and got my breath back, and the pain went away. Thirty minutes later, bam, pain again. At least it was not lasting long. I got my book out and began to read about Braxton Hicks and false labor pains. I was not going to be one of those young, ignorant mothers who panicked and went to the emergency room screaming for help, even if I was only 15.

The water was heated up and I started my "bath". I was washing my face when I felt something dripping down my leg. I looked. Had I spilled the water? I leaned over to look. I was about too fat to see what the problem was, but I could tell by my wet inner thigh, something was happening. Had I peed my pants? If my water breaks, is it not a gush? This was definitely a trickle. I got out the book again. I read about water breaking and that there was no need for panic. I decided to shave my legs in the now tepid water just in case a baby was coming. I had not shaved them in three weeks or seen a doctor in longer than that. No baby of mine was going to be born with doctors and nurses looking at my hairy legs and saying this girl can't look after herself, much less a baby.

Again, I had trouble bending over, but I managed to shave one leg when the gush came. I am talking a gush of water, not a trickle. It made a huge mess on me and the floor. And then, another pain. If the clock on the stove was right, the pains were now twenty minutes apart. They were wave like, coming up, up, up and then cresting and then slowly going out to sea. I was sweating, and wet from the waist down, but not yet panicked. That came three hours later when Damien was still not home yet. I had no phone, no way to town, and I was positively sure I was in labor. I was panicked. Where was that son-of-a-bitch (sorry baby)?

I said my mantra:

"I have something to prove. I am intelligent, and I am going to make something of myself. I am not poor, white trash. I am important. I am brave. I am going to kick ass."

I kept repeating my mantra to myself and then I was screaming out loud: "I am brave. I am brave. I am brave."

Author's Notes: When I was pregnant with my first child and my water broke in just a trickle, I got the "What to Expect" book out and realized there was no need to panic. Just like Sienna, I got in the shower to shave my hairy legs.