Fixing the Water Pipes

I had decided she was never going to come. I would be pregnant forever. After daily contractions for weeks on end, and my stubborn desire to be all natural and to not induce, Madeline was nine days past her welcome. So, after putting Brooke down for a nap, I had a good frustrating cry, then got ready to join my SIL Julie and our mother in law for lunch that day. A few minutes later, I felt a tiny, but distinct "pop"! And then a trickle. Either I had peed myself (definitely within the realm of possibility) or my water just broke. I can't remember who I called first- Bill or the midwife- but not much further down the list of phone calls was to Julie, letting her know that I wouldn't be making it to lunch after all. Later that evening, Julie's then 3 year old son ran up to his daddy and asked him to get his toolbox. He explained that Aunt Michelle's water was broke and he needed to go over and fix it for her.

I remembered this story tonight after Madeline spilled a tall glass of water all over the living room floor. After cleaning up the mess, I chuckled about that hot summer day nearly four years ago when I considered her spilling the water to actually be a good thing, and my sweet nephew's ingenious solution to help me fix it.