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I read "What to Expect When You're Expecting." Twice. I subscribed to parenting and pregnancy magazines before conception, I checked out all of the best websites, and even read medical journals online to help me make the "big" decisions such as how to choose the best hospital, the benefits of natural childbirth, and how to create a birthing "plan." i even chose what time of year I wanted to have my child - in the spring, just after my school let out for spring break - and managed to get pregnant on time, exactly as planned. It turns out that, as John Lennon sang, "Life is what happens while you're busy making other plans." After 32 weeks of pregnancy, my water broke somewhere in between my lunch break and teaching fifth period drama to seventh graders. And I had no idea it happened. That's right, my water broke and I didn't even realize it. Nowhere in all of my extensive research did I come across the possibility that my water would break while I was on the toilet. Like most women, I imagined it happening in the most embarassing of places: while standing in line at the grocery store, sitting on the nice leather bucket seats in my car, or the absolute worst, standing at the front of the classroom with 30 twelve year olds looking on in horror. So when I felt what I believed to be a little extra pee, I wasn't at all alarmed. After all, there was a baby sitting on my bladder 24-7. Unexpected pee was not a new thing to me.

My water breaking was the first sign from God that my baby was about to arrive eight weeks early, and clearly I had missed it. As my drama students came into the classroom that day, everything continued on as usual. Two class periods later I was beginning to feel energized, euphoric. Considering I had been up since 5:30 that morning and had been teaching since 8:00, a burst of energy was more than a little unusual. I was beginning to become suspicious, and so were my students. "Why are you in such a good mood today," one kid asked. I had no idea. Here was a group of kids who hadn't read their assigned chapters, weren't working quietly on their essays, and yet I felt like dancing a jig. What could be happening to me?
Shortly after seventh period, it was time to begin my after school drama rehearsal, but first, like all pregnant women, I had to take my hourly trip to the bathroom. Oddly, there was a slight tinge of blood. Finally I had enough red flags to make a call to the doctor. The secretary had a nurse answer my questions. "A little bleeding?"

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