Becoming Ma Ma Ma Ma: The Storm

Wednesday is my sweet Eddie’s first birthday.  I can hardly believe it’s here.  This past year has gone by so quickly…I know it’s totally cliche, but really?  Where did the time GO?

In honor of his being on the outside for a full year, I wanted to re-tell his birth story.  I recounted it right after it happened from my hospital bed, but I want to re-tell now with the whole “what I know now” commentary added in.  And it is a long story, so it will be given in installments.

So here it goes.  Part I.  The Storm, June 19, 2009

I was due June 23.  That was a Tuesday last year.  Every appointment I measured big, but because both my mom and my mom-in-law had been WAY overdue with their firsts (who happen to be me and Cort), the doc was convinced I would go past my due date, but he hoped not too far past since, you know, I was HUGE and so was Eddie.

The weekend before the due date rolls around.  To all you new readers, this is where I should tell you that Cort’s sister was getting married that Saturday and we were in the wedding.  Yes, all parties involved here knew it was insanity for us to both be involved in a wedding 3 days before my due date, but we like to live on the edge are insane first time parents.  We BELIEVED we could do it.

So Friday, June 19, we head to the church for the rehearsal.  Everyone jokes about my watering breaking on a groomsman’s shoe.  ha ha ha…wait, not funny.  Anyway, after the rehearsal we drive out to the restaurant for dinner.  This is where I should mention that we live in Holland and there is sort of a LAKE that separates the north side of town from the south. You have to drive all the way around this lake from the north side to get to the restaurant on the south side.  Not a big deal–20 minute drive from our house, tops.

We go to said restaurant despite that it is starting to rain a little.  Rain doesn’t hurt people…right?

Once to the restaurant it REALLY starts coming down.  I mean REALLY.  We are all looking out at the marina and it is PITCH black and pouring.  Thunder, lightening, high winds.  Then, in the middle of dinner?  The electricity goes out.

And stays out.  We eat dessert by candle light.  It is still raining.  They bride and groom give out their thank you presents.  In the dark. With the storm STILL going.  And now?  It has started to hail.

So after peeing by lantern half a billion times, I find out that they are closing the main part of the restaurant and that the parking lot and road to the place is knee-deep flooded.  So, everyone decides that it’s either stay at the restaurant for the night, or leave NOW.

My brother-in-law’s hilariously well prepared fiance (she brought a rain jacket and galoshes…wth?) runs out to the parking lot and drives all our cars up to the door for us.  I have to take off my shoes and wade in to get into the truck.

As we start the caravan around the lake to get back home, we quickly realize that we are NOT getting through the main road.  It is far too deep.  I get on the phone with my dad (who was a GPS in a previous life, I’m fairly certain), and he helps us take the back roads (WAY back roads) around to the main drag in Holland. 

This normally 10 minute detour takes us a good 25 minutes.  We have to keep slowing WAY down to go through deep spots across the road.  Everyone starts freaking out that I am going to go into labor.  Pffft.

THEN we have to go through downtown Holland to get to the north side (that we live on).  This proves to be a HUGE task.

Downtown is totally flooded.

When we finally weave the truck around closed down roads and through deep washouts, we are in the home stretch.  We get to our subdivision.  I have to pee at this point because we’ve been in the car for over and hour and I am in a dress.  People, 4 days away from my due date, in a dress, having to pee, at 10:30 at night SUCKS.

So I am relieved that we are finally within a half mile of our house.  Just turning in…almost there…FLOODED!

Now, I have been a great trooper up until now.  I did very well at remaining calm even though all I wanted was my jammies and my bed.

When we can’t get into our subdivision after all that?  I lost my mind.  I started to cry.  What were we doing to do?  I call my parents back and tell them we can’t go home and that we are coming over.  My parents live about three miles away.

It takes us another 45 minutes to get there.  We have to weave through the non-flooded roads to get there.

Once there, my mom offers me jammies. I just look at her puny little 5 foot 5 inch skinny little frame and start crying again.  She then remembers my enormous baby mountain (no longer a bump at this point) and says, “oh. right.”

Cort and I attempt sleep while we watch the Late Shows.  At 1:00 am, we decide to brave it again.  The rain has stopped, some of the water HAS to have subsided.

We pile back in the truck, and this time, we can get home.

I have never been more exhausted in all my life.  As I settled into bed, I set my alarm for 6:00 am.  After all, my big ole pregnant self had to be a bridesmaid in the morning.

 my huge, pregnant self with my sister-in-law, MacKenzie, and my brother-in-law’s then fiance (now wife), Liz at the rehearsal dinner before the electricity went out

To Be Continued tomorrow with Part II:  Becoming Ma Ma Ma Ma:  The Wedding, June 20, 2009

About Katie

Just a small town girl...wait no. That is a Journey song. Katie Sluiter is a small town girl, but she is far from living in a lonely world. She is a middle school English teacher, writer, mother, and wife. Life has thrown her a fair share of challenges, but her belief is that writing through them makes her stronger.


  1. Oh my goodness what a story! That is really funny about your water breaking! I can't believe how fast the time seems to go also. we really notice time passing because our children change and grow so much from month to month. Have a great weekend!

    Mama Hen

  2. ooooooh dear!
    Can't wait to hear how this turns out!

  3. Dude, you looked awesome! Not big ol' pregnant at all! AWE-SOME, I tell you!

    But I would've been a puddle of tears by the time we had to make the first detour.