A wild ride, but I’ve experience wilder

I’m marking 25 years in journalism.

It’s been a wild ride, filled with people from all walks of life, thousands of stories about thousands of things, and countless experiences you’d only get by asking strangers to open up and tell their story.

But the wildest ride, upon reflection week, was the summer morning my daughter was born.

It wasn’t a work experience — although journalists are always working — but it was column fodder when it happened almost six years ago.

Early on that late July day, my wife woke me with a bone-chilling scream.

I leapt out of bed and raced to the next room.

“The baby’s coming!” she said. “I don’t think I can make it to the hospital.”

We had left there only hours before. The doctors sent us home telling us it could be days before baby.

I was now faced with the scariest question of all — Am I going to have to deliver the baby myself? We had to get to the hospital. But my wife didn’t think she could make it.

I started sweating bullets while we tried getting her ready.

She gripped my arms with unforgettable force as she lowered herself into my car.

Time was standing still, but my car, heart and brain were in maximum overdrive.

En route, my wife declared: “I’m not going to be able to get out of the car,” – an indication she was going to have the baby in my Corolla!

Inside, I was freaking out. Outside, I tried to be calm and cool.

So I called 911 to arrange for paramedics to help my wife out of the vehicle and up to the case room upon arrival at the hospital.

Four-way flashers blinking, I was whipping down a city road at 120 klicks.

“I’m pushing,” my again with that grip.

“SHE’S PUSHING!” I said to myself. “AHHHHHH!”

She couldn’t help it and wouldn’t dare tell her to stop.

“Slow down on the bumps!” she wife said, I yelled.

There was a Starbucks ahead and I pulled in for a coffee. Just joking.

Instead, I pictured myself delivering the baby in the parking lot (which if you knew how much coffee I drink, you might find fitting).

With stomach twisting and sweat flowing, I managed to keep concentrating on getting my wife to the hospital.

She continued pushing.

So did I — on the gas.

I asked her to hold on, something easier said than done.

We arrived to find two paramedics waiting at the hospital entrance.

Phew!

Slowly and carefully, they moved my wife into a wheelchair.

She was yelling. My heart was aching for her.

I parked and sprinted to the case room to find a doctor helping with her breathing.

Quickly, the nurses had my wife positioned to deliver.

I was positioned to faint. Stella entered the world a few minutes later and has been watching “Frozen” ever since.

The ride to the hospital for her birth is the most intense journey I’ve put in words.

It was an honour to do that, and to write or be part of thousands of other stories or columns for readers.

Looking forward to many more. Thank you.