Eating For Two, One Last Time

(I’m in hard labor with my first child, who is two weeks overdue. After early labor all day, it’s now past midnight and the contractions are unbearable. My husband is driving me to our hospital, forty five minutes from home. I’m in the passenger seat, eyes tightly closed, counting my breathing and the miles under the tires. The car finally comes to a slow stop, and I’m ecstatic that we’ve arrived.)

Me: “Oh, thank God. I can’t take this much more! We’re there, right?”

Husband: “Uh, well…”

Outside The Car: “Welcome to [Tex Mex Fast Food Place]. Are you interested in a combo meal?”

(Two meals ordered, and we were back en route to the hospital ten minutes away. Nine years later, we still joke about being the couple that showed up in the labor and delivery ward with a duffel bag and Tex Mex.)