It might be a minivan, but under the right conditions Ryan can drive it like a Ferrari. Those conditions include me casually admitting that I'd been having painful contractions for the entire one-hour duration of church. But only after he'd taken me through the Dunkin Donuts drive-through for what I thought might be my last meal for a little while (egg and cheese croissant, chocolate cake donut, strawberry donuts with sprinkles for the kiddies).
Mid-way through the sermon I started to feel more uncomfortable than normal. It was a wild symphony of violent baby-kicking, low blood sugar, and some kind of slightly more intense than usual contraction. I also had to go to the bathroom. I couldn't figure out what the heck was going on, so I told Ryan I was feeling weak and hungry and we ducked out at the end of the sermon and went to get me something to eat and some water.
Once I was done with my snack I dropped the bomb about the contractions. And then Mr. Fifty-in-a-Fifty-Five was suddenly doing seventy on the highway. By the time we were driving into our neighborhood I was making plans on where we would leave the kids and who would call who. And also trying to keep my body in a perfectly straight, standing up position without taking off my seatbelt. Charlie asked if he could have fruitcake after lunch and I said "Whatever Grandma and Grandpa want to feed you is fine with me!" before gritting my teeth as we drove around a bend in the road.
Ryan started running stop signs when I told him the contractions were five minutes apart, but never really went away completely. He looked at me incredulously and when we got home sent me upstairs to lie down while he gave the kids their lunch. He joked that I should get out very gingerly so as not to douse the new car with amniotic fluid. He needn't have worried because by that point my entire midsection was seized in the never-ending contraction and there was no way out of the car except very, very carefully.
I picked my way up the stairs, changed clothes, and got in bed to time the contractions while Ryan gave the kids lunch. The first one came at 1:05. And then I fell asleep waiting around for the next one. I woke up at 1:40 with no more contractions.
The walk back down the stairs was mortifying. Ryan greeted me hopefully and reported that his camera and phone were nearly done charging, the kids had eaten, and everything was straightened up. I skulked to the toaster and made myself a bagel with cream cheese and tomatoes then sat down in my butt print on the couch and vowed not to move again until it's time to leave for the induction tomorrow morning.