“The waterbed had not broke, but my water had broke.”

Back in the seventies, when they had water beds — the eighties I guess. Yeah, it was mid eighties. I had one in my bedroom — a twin size one upstairs. And I was pregnant. And I was in the bed — water bed. I loved that water bed… until I was nine months pregnant, and I woke up, and I thought the bed had broke because it was all wet, and it took me a while to realize that my water had broke, not the bed. The waterbed had not broke, but my water had broke. And I stumbled down the stairs and told my mom, “Let’s get a move on.” I remember standing out in the hallway and testing it. I whispered it. Of course, it happened late at night, and she was sound asleep in her bedroom, and I opened the door and I whispered, “Mom, my water broke.” And I said it a little louder, “Mom, my water broke.” She still didn’t wake up. So I went and shook her and said, “Mom! My water broke!” And she jumped out of bed, and I had a baby that night.

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