Ben Simmons: When Two Worlds Become One

Halftime Surprise

Monday Night Football. It's always a party. It's an even bigger party when your team is leading their conference, which Dallas is. The only way to spend it was with our close family in my grandfather's suite. Oh, and of course they decided to invite Johnny. So I was sitting with my mom on my left and Johnny on my right, and really, I wasn't complaining. My boys were playing and that was enough to keep me happy.

We enjoyed great food and alcoholic drinks (none for me) as we analyzed the game. I was in the company of two great people - the most opinionated person in sports, my grandfather, and one of the smartest people in sports, Johnny. Say what you want about his career, this man knows the game. I forgot how much I enjoyed watching football with him. Throughout the game, his hand occasionally found its way to my thigh, but I ignored it.

Just after halftime, I excused myself to go to the bathroom. Thankfully, the suite has a private one-person-at-a-time restroom to use. When I walked in and pulled my pants down, I knew something was wrong. Either I had just peed more than I ever have in my entire life, or my water broke. There was no way my water broke; my delivery date was January 7th, and it's only December 26th. However, there was no denying it. The baby is one the way.

I cleaned myself up as quickly as possible and walked out to my family. I don't know why, but I felt a little embarrassed. Maybe because there were also a few men in suits whom I didn't know well, or the fact that an abundance of clear liquid just leaked out of my vagina. Whichever it was, I wasn't interested in announcing the news. Instead, I walked over to Johnny who was sitting, watching the game intently, and tapped his shoulder. He looked up at me and could tell by the look on my face that something was wrong. "Are you okay? What happened?" he asked, standing up concerned. "My water just broke," I whispered. "Holy shit," Johnny said, louder than he intended. Everyone's heads jerked towards us, and I just stood there, feeling quite red. Johnny, I'm going to let you take this one.

"Mr. and Mrs. Jones, um, you're about to be grandparents." Smooth, Johnny. My mom stood up abruptly. "Oh my gosh! Did your water just break?" She exclaimed. I just nodded, not really sure hat to do. After all, this is my first time going into labor. "Honey, oh my!" she said and looked around. Everyone had panic written across their face and chaos broke out. My grandparents were going crazy talking about getting a procession to the hospital and my parents were, well I don't even know what they were doing, but it appeared that everyone was running around with their heads cut off. I started to feel really stressed when someone pulled me aside. "You need to get to the hospital. I'm going to run to your house and grab your hospital bag. Let's get you in a car and your parents can take you to the hospital." Normally, I wouldn't want my high school friend with benefit buddy who constantly makes out with me going with me to the hospital to delivery my baby with me, but right now, Johnny was the only calm one.

He ushered me into the elevator along with my parents and grandma. My grandfather would come to the hospital after the game ended. All I could think about during the entire ride was Ben. This is his baby too, and he's missing the delivery. He doesn't even know his child is on the way. I always imagined him taking me to the hospital, by my side coaching me through everything. Not this.

The contractions started in the car, and holy guacamole they hurt. I've never experienced anything this painful in my entire life. When I wasn't screaming, I was recovering. Then, two minutes later, the cycle would start over.

We pulled into the hospital parking lot, and a group of nurses rushed out to our car with a wheelchair. Well, I have a feeling my grandfather found time to alert them. They asked me a million in one questions, about my pain and my preferences for the birth plan, and everything in between. I felt overwhelmed. There was so much going on that I had a hard time comprehending I'm about to become a mother.

The nurses wheeled me into the suite we had reserved and I changed from my Cowboys shirt to a hospital gown. After that, they hooked me up to an IV and a monitor. For the first time today, I felt eased when the nurse told me the baby's heart rate was normal and there was nothing alarming. Before she left, she quickly checked to see how dilated I was. Only one centimeter. Oh boy, this is going to be a long night. We thanked the nurses profusely as she walked out the door and promised to come back and check in soon. Now that we were alone, my mom and grandmother started to settle in while my father went to look for ice chips for me to eat.

About 15 minutes later, Johnny entered with my bag in hand. "I really hope this is the one," he said as he showed it to me. "Yes, that's the one. Can you put it over next to the sofa?" He did just that. I could tell he was stressed. I've said this before, but of all people to be by my side as I deliver this baby, I never imagined Johnny. But he was great. Through every contraction, he held my hand and reminded me to breathe. If I needed anything, he would jump up to make sure I had it. I even caught him staring at my heart rate, along with the baby's. Sometimes I wonder if he wishes the situation were different - that this was our baby. Maybe he would still be the starting quarterback, we could have married in a beautiful, elaborate ceremony, and now welcome our first child into the world. Hell, after what I've been through in the past week, maybe I'm the one wishing things would have ended like that.

It was now almost midnight, and my grandfather finally joined us. "How is my beautiful great grandbaby?" He asked. "Taking their sweet time," I replied, slightly annoyed. I'd been in labor for two hours, and there was no progress. No centimeter change, just contraction pain. It was excruciating and the road ahead was very long. Another hour passed, the exhaustion wave started to fall. That's when I heard a knock on the door. "Hello, hello. How are we feeling?" Emily, my main nurse, asked. "I'm ready for my epidural," I told her while holding a death grip on the sheets and Johnny's hand. "Oh, I'm afraid we can't give you that until 4 centimeters." I know she was trying to be nice, but I was ready to conduct a man hunt for this anesthesiologist and demand the medication. Emily slipped on gloves and checked my progress. Good news! In three hours, the baby had moved one centimeter. If this keeps up, it will be almost an entire day before they actually wheel me to the delivery room.

"Look, it's clear I'm not going anywhere for awhile. Why don't you guys go home and get some rest and come back in the morning." I asked, rhetorically. After a little persuasion, they finally agreed. My mom kissed my forehead as she followed everyone out. "Call if you need anything, we'll be back at seven." They closed the door, and I looked at the only person still standing in my room. "I'm not going anywhere," Johnny said, taking a seat on the couch. Deep down, I'm glad he stayed.

I wanted to drift off to sleep, but the pain was too much to bare. However, over the next few hours, I knew things would only get more hectic, so I did what I had to do. I grabbed my phone and typed a message: I'm in labor. At 1:39am, it delivered to Ben.