Dreams and Nightmares 9: My Water Broke!


My Water Broke!


The phone call had come on Friday morning, and the meeting with the social worker had been Friday afternoon when we found out that we were going to get a baby on Saturday. The baby arrived Saturday morning, and we prepared his bassinet and took care of him in the afternoon. The Gay Pride concert had been Saturday evening, when the baby’s arrival was announced to the community. Sunday morning I was in the Gay Pride parade with the Lesbian Gay Chorus of San Francisco.
Over the previous year or so, I had been in regular contact with my friend Tom who had taken us to the meeting where we first applied for adoption through the county. Tom was a good friend, a fellow Oakland teacher, and had been interested in having children. I felt bad because the weekend had been so busy I had not had a chance to call Tom and tell him what happened.
A big flatbed truck, which was our float in the parade, crept slowly up market street with its noisy generator amplifying our music. The chorus sang. The crowds waved and cheered. Right after one of our anthems ended, I saw Tom standing with a cluster of friends on the side of the street. I waved, and he returned the signal.  Because of the noise from the generator and the crowds, I knew he wouldn’t be able to hear a long and complicated message about getting a phone call on a Friday afternoon and the baby on the Saturday morning. I was so excited to tell him because he had been there from the beginning.
When we got closer I could see him standing just down to the side of the truck, I realized what I could say that would get the message across. I could call later and explain all the details.
“Hey Tom,” I screamed, “my water broke!”

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