A new year had just arrived. I can still picture January in my mind, the mood was sullen and dark, I could feel the cold reaching my bones, but now I know that was the best feeling I‘d ever had. I had only a few weeks left to start college, which had been my dream since I can remember. My dad had already paid for my tuition, I was so exited I had promised to do my best. Then, I realized there was an obstacle in my way. I knew I needed to make a decision on whether or not keeping my pregnancy, it sounds rough, but it was definitive. I did not want to miss school, so I was definitely not taking this to the last term. I just could not think of myself being prostrated in bed for so long, as an impediment to start school. Never, nothing would make me give up on my dreams, and that was another promise I had made to myself.
So, I told my doctor I wanted to be induced. After all, my due date was only two weeks away and only five percent of women give birth on the day determined by their doctors. When I was finally there, I looked at the outside, the hospital was set in a suburban – like area, and when I went inside the building, I was in a welcoming ultramodern facility. I went straight to the labor and delivery section where they said my doctor had gone out of town; nobody believed that I was supposed to be induced that day. It took them like 15 minutes to confirm what I had told them, to finally decide to take me to a room to connect all kinds of tubes to my body. I went into the room; it looked very comfortable, but it was freezing. I lay on the typical hospital bed, one of those that make sleeping and resting easier.
After almost one hour of “tube procedure connections”, I got up to go to the restroom with an IV pole following my steps, all the tubes where also coming from there, so I had to take it with me. On my way to the restroom, my water broke. I was sure about that, because it did not feel like I was urinating at all. So I hurried back to the bed, my mother went to get the nurse as fast as she could, and told her about what had just happened. She came back into the room, with this old lady, who was wearing a white Winnie Pooh scrub and I figured she was the nurse, because she put on some gloves and checked my cervix. But the nurse did not make a big deal out of it; instead she said calmly, “oh, you are just peeing.” I felt like an idiot, and smiled worriedly.
Right after this, for some reason, my eyes looked at the clock and saw it was 12:30 am, I was falling asleep and I felt too weak to fight back. I woke up two or three hours later, and a doctor, different from the one who I had followed my pregnancy with, showed up. The first thing I noticed about her was her dark green eyes, she was a very beautiful woman above medium height, and she also looked very kind. Right away, she touched my belly and said that my little girl was estimated to be “only” seven...