I know you all have some interesting, if not bizarre, OB-related stories. I mean, the babies, they gotta come out, right? They come out whether you’re ready for them or not.

Some of my friends have told stories of delivering babies in cars, parking lots, and elevators. I had an attending who once did a perimortem C-section in the parking lot of a Home Depot (at least that was the rumor).

I’ve had a few strange OB cases in the last few years. One didn’t know she was pregnant (I still don’t get how you don’t know that).

The first happened when I was just a resident, finishing a night shift moonlighting on the morning of July 4. As residents, we could moonlight at the community hospital as physician extenders. It was a great experience because I got to do all the fun procedures, but always had an attending as backup.

All of a sudden I hear a voice call, “We need a doctor to Trauma 3!”

I jumped up. I knew I wasn’t going to get an experience like this at the Ivory Tower.

And then I hear The Wail. The Wail of a woman in labor who isn’t going to make it to L&D.

The medics come in and report that it looked like she was crowning. One peek under the sheet confirmed that.

I told her emphatically, “Don’t push!”

It looked like we would have a few minutes to get set up for a delivery. Questions rolled off my tongue: “When are you due? Who is your doctor? When did your water break? Was it clear? Any problems with your pregnancy or any medical problems?”

The poor thing could only breathe her answers with each huff and puff. Finally we got things set up for delivery. I told her, “You can go ahead and push now!” She replied, “But somebody told me not to push!”

“That was me! Now I’m telling you to push!” And push she did. Out came a healthy baby boy. A Yankee Doodle boy, born on the Fourth of July. Come to find out, new Mom and Dad had lost twins at 20 weeks about a year and a half before. So it was very fulfilling to deliver to these parents what they always wanted: a healthy baby.

Since that was the first emergency delivery I’d ever done, I’ll always remember it.

One that was more recent wasn’t as cut-and-dry. It was just plain weird.

I’ve been working nights recently. I’ve just found that I work better that way. There are fewer people around the hospital at night. Hence, I don’t feel as though someone is hovering over me all the time.

I’m not sure if y’all noticed, but there was a “supermoon” a few nights ago. My whole weekend was strange, and maybe that’s why, but this baby could not wait to come out. In a few years she’ll begin trying to figure out how she can get back in.

We get L&D patients all the time through the ED, because at night that’s the only entrance open. All night long we see women wheeling or waddling through the ED on the way up to L&D. Sometimes we wave (it’s fun); sometimes we’re so busy that we don’t really notice.

The security guard came strolling through the ED and offhandedly told a nurse, “There’s about to be a baby born in the parking lot.”

We all think, sure, whatever. No one thinks they’re gonna make it upstairs in time. So the drama begins.

The next thing I see is our security guard wheeling a very pregnant lady yelling, “Oh, God! She’s coming! She’s coming!”

Who’s coming? Hillary Clinton? The alien, from, well, Alien? The funny girl from the insurance commercials?

Oh, she meant the baby. I think, “Yes, I know the baby is coming. Isn’t it wonderful?”

Oh, crap. She means the baby is coming right now. The baby is coming out of her right now.

“Get her in a room!” I yell, “Call NICU and L&D!” The security guard is not sure what to do with this woman. “Pick any empty room!” I sort of growl at him. Sorry.

Then I hear another howl from Mom: “I need to push!!!” Our case manager, who herself is 7 months pregnant, tells her, “Oh, no, you don’t!”

Then Mom lifts herself off the seat of the wheelchair with her entire upper body. Man, that woman is strong. “Her head is OUT!”

OK, just so you can get a mental picture, the lady’s pants are still on.

We get her into a room, and as we are getting her onto the stretcher, she yells again, “The REST of her is out and SHE’S GOING DOWN MY PANTS LEG!”

Sure enough, there was now a lump in her right pants leg. She was wearing some stretchy workout pants (Mom, not the baby).

Then people started to actually pull down her pants. I just said, “Get some scissors and cut them off so I can get this baby out!”

So we cut away the pants, and there was this perfect little person there. It was like unwrapping a present.

I suctioned her out and she cried loud and strong. I let Dad cut the cord as Mom reached out to touch her. Awwww… And then the NICU and L&D nurses swept them away to greener pastures and nicer rooms.

Once they were gone, we all let out a sigh of relief.

Then they wheeled a passed-out drunk guy into the room across from my desk. I took a deep breath, trying to get my brain around the next problem.

But in the back of my mind lingered the little baby who couldn’t wait to be born.

Dr. Bundy is an attending physician at ERMed, LLC, in Montgomery, Ala., and a former photojournalist, who not only sings in the car, but talks to herself, is addicted to diet drinks and shoes, and thinks emergency medicine is the greatest specialty.