Andrea Mulder-Slater

by Andrea Mulder-Slater I woke up to see Geoff staring at me. He asked me what time it was. I contemplated poking his eyes out but instead got up to go the bathroom, glancing at the clock radio as I walked by. Four twenty four. Geoff : That’s it? It’s so bright out.  He was right. Our bedroom was filled with light. I pushed the blinds away and peered through the glass. It was like daylight out there. Me : Maybe it's a full moon?  I headed to the bathroom (where I didn’t slam the door [ see Montana Moose story ]). I looked out the  windows.  Same view as from the bedroom – bright as hell. Much brighter than a full moon night. I started to feel anxious. I wandered into the living room and looked out front. It looked like the sun was trying to come out - at four thirty in the morning?  What was going on? I went back in the bedroom to re-check the clock. Four thirty six. Me (becoming frantic): This is so weird. It is so ...

by Andrea Mulder-Slater When I was 8 months pregnant, my husband and I were given the hospital tour. “The maternity ward,” said the nurse in a singsong voice, “is a wonderful place to be.”  She showed us the birthing areas, the shower room and the nurses’ station, complete with flowers and chocolate bon-bons on the counter top. “It’s never very busy here,” she continued, “so you are pretty much guaranteed a private room and that way, mom, baby and daddy can stay together and be comfortable.” Reality is such a bitch. I went into labour on Monday afternoon. My daughter was born on Wednesday night. I don’t fancy doing anything that feels good for longer than one, maybe two hours – tops, so needless to say, being in labour for 48 hours was not on my bucket list. By the time it was over, everyone involved was elated, and exhausted. My parents – now proud grandparents - drove home to their beds while Geoff, the newborn and I were taken to our room...