Imagine you are 42 weeks pregnant with your first baby you are on a greyhound bus going across the country. The bus in a extremely rural area and the nearest hospital is 150 miles away. Your water breaks and your contractions get more intense each bump the bus goes over. You feel the head crowning and you let out a loud moan attracting the attention of everyone on the bus.
It wasn't supposed to be like this. I was already on the way to the hospital to be induced when my water broke, and this baby wanted out now. I'd let out a loud moan, and I knew then that my privacy and dignity were as out the window as my plans were. I was lucky that there were only a couple people on the bus and that I was seated toward the back, but I had everyone's attention.
I felt the baby pound at my cervix, my stomach growing hard as a contraction ripped through me, and an overwhelming pressure began to build in my pelvis. I couldn't hold off any longer as I bore down, my head leaning against the seat as I subconsciously open my legs. I heard shuffling around, but I was too focused on the bulge in my pants to be concerned. I felt someone's hand rub against my thigh, and I feel my lips start to spread. "Ungghhh... pleasee" I beg as the contraction dies down, but the bowling ball between my legs ever-present.
"Sweetie... We really need to get these pants off," I hear a voice state as I turn my gaze to them. It's a younger male, probably around my age, with brown hair and blue eyes. I feel the heat rise to my cheeks, knowing how much of a mess I must look like with a shirt that barely fits and fluid leaking out of my tight pants. I give you a slight nod, apologizing over and over.
"Your okay, It's going to be okay," He states, and I try to believe him. I lift my hips slightly off the seat to allow him to grab my pants and underwear, allowing him to pull them halfway to my thighs before he sees the bulge my child's head has become. I have no time to respond coherently before my body is pushing, and a low moan comes out as I obey its commands. I bear down, feeling myself stretch and crown over the top of the baby's head, my labia forming a small circle as it pokes out. There's a crowd around my seat now, the small group horrified at the sight but too intrigued to not look.
"It burns, please help me. OH GODD," I moan out, the contractions seemingly one now, with no breaks in between. The man moves the rest of my pants all the way down before separating my legs further, urging me to push. I'm screaming as I reach a full crown, my vaginal lips white as they stretch around the head, I feel someone try to help stretch me, but I try and wiggle away from them, needing nothing more than to get this baby out of me. It takes a couple contractions to keep the baby where it is, my lips not ready to accommodate the oversized head trying to come out of my petite, tight frame. I whine as it slips back in, mumbling in pain about how it wasn't supposed to be like this.
I hear people tell me to pant it out, they don't want me to tear this far from the hospital, but I can't take it anymore, the overwhelming pain and pressure and need for relief overpowering my logical thinking. The man tries to keep me from pushing, but it's fruitless as I bear down, my body squeezing as if it's fighting for its life. "MMMMM, GET OUT PLEASEE" I scream, arching my back as I feel my lips quiver. I feel them give as I tear the head shooting out with a gush of birthing fluid and blood soaking my thighs and those in close range around me. I hear gasps as I reach down to grab the head. I pant heavily as I try to regain my breath, feeling the head starts to rotate. I met the man's eyes as he gives me a slight smile, his eyes full of concern and horror despite his efforts to conceal his emotions.
"You can do it sweetie, a few more pushes and its all over." He states as I give him a small smile. I let go of the head as I grab one of my thighs and pull it towards me. I grunt out pushes, feeling as one shoulder pops out before the other. "NRGHHHHHH" I scream, feeling its chest and hips slide out of me before another pop and relief. I collapse fully as I feel my baby against my chest and hear its cries. Someone hands the stranger an extra shirt, and he places it against my tears, but I couldn't care less. I stare longingly at my baby boy in front of me, feeling nothing but a strong sense of pride and love.
"Whats your name?" I ask the man, patting my son's back.
"Sam" he states politely, giving me a smile despite being drenched with fluids.
"Sam, I would like you to meet Sam."
