“Only an escapologist could offer, ouch, such practical advice to a baby,” I tell my husband holding my drip line.

“Absolutely. Practical,” he says.

“Just keep wiggling, sweetie, slip that shoulder through!” I say.

“Absolutely. Shoulder,” he says.

“You need to arch your back more,” the nurse suggests as I rest on my hands and knees.

“I keep wishing it was ME inside, I would know what to – OW!” I say. “But I can’t picture what’s wrong!”

“Please focus,” says my OB, “The shoulders are stuck and we’ve got to get one loose. It's called dystocia.”

“I can’t feel it!” I wail. “I know my body, if I could just feel it!”

“Be glad you don’t feel it, querida,” the nurse tells me. “If this doesn’t work we must break your pelvis.”

“That’s not a good show, just to break it!” I holler.

“Mira, okay,” says the nurse, “you are like a gymnast. We must raise your right hip and tilt sideways and forward and push at the same time.”

 “I. Can. Do. That.”

“Yes! Head! Don’t move!” yells the OB.

“Absolutely!” yells my husband.

“Vamos!" yells the nurse.

“Good show!” I tell the baby.

© 2009 Corrie Garrett. Original for CCF. Garrett grants CCF first electronic rights for one month; CCF may archive the material indefinitely and include it in an eBook anthology.