Five in the morning. I wake my husband and tell him it's time. He panics. We have planned it so carefully, and now we don't know what to do. We are visiting my grandparents, we are far away from the hospital where I am supposed to go. He calls the ambulance. I am taken to another hospital – the one where I was born, where my father was born. A serendipity. They ask me when the labour started and tell me cheerfully that I could have waited until evening. While paperwork is done, I crouch on a hard bench. There are other women in the same predicament around me. Nobody really cares. One woman screams: “I am dying, please do something!” A nurse looks at her with contempt: “You should have thought about it when you f-d”. Finally somebody comes to look at me, and suddenly it is very urgent. The nurse gets scolded. I have just about had my baby on the tiled floor of the waiting room.
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