It was supposed to be a routine traffic assist—fender bender at the light, nothing major. I was already thinking about lunch, debating whether to hit the food truck or settle for another soggy sandwich in the cruiser. Then I heard it.
A scream. Not the angry, cussing-out-another-driver kind. No—this was sharp, panicked, and deep. The kind that grabs you by the spine. I dropped my sandwich, which was already starting to get soggy, and rushed toward the car, trying to shake off the shock that had hit me like a freight train. My mind was racing, but my body was moving on autopilot. The woman’s cries grew louder, and her breathing became more frantic, desperate.
I glanced at the guy pacing around the car. He wasn’t helping. He was panicking, trying to talk to someone on the phone while completely ignoring the fact that his partner was about to give birth in the passenger seat of a sedan.
“Get her out of the car,” I shouted at him. “Now. We need to get her on the ground.”
The guy barely acknowledged me, still too busy with his phone, but I saw his hesitation. He was frozen, not knowing what to do. His voice cracked when he spoke again. “She’s not gonna make it to the hospital, right? Oh God, oh God, help her! ”We bolted over to the black sedan. The passenger door was wide open, and inside—there she was. A young woman, maybe early twenties, drenched in sweat, panting like she’d run five miles. Her hands gripped the sides of the seat, eyes wild. Water everywhere. Blankets. Baby wipes. And a man pacing on his phone, useless.
“She’s crowning!” he yelled. “Oh my god, she’s crowning!”
My stomach flipped. I looked at her, then at my partner. He just stared at me like, Well? I moved quickly, my training kicking in even though I had never been trained for something like this. I wasn’t an EMT, I wasn’t a doctor, but I had the basics down—at least I hoped I did. I knelt beside the woman and put my hand on her shoulder.
“Hey, hey, listen to me,” I said gently, trying to calm her. “We’re going to get you through this. I need you to stay with me, okay? Just focus on me, not on the pain, not on anything else. You’re doing great.”
She looked at me, her face pale, her lips trembling. “I—I didn’t think it would happen like this. I wasn’t ready.”
I nodded, trying to appear calm, though inside, I was anything but. “I know, but you are ready. You’ve got this. Just a little longer, alright?”
I turned to my partner, who was already fumbling with his radio, trying to get the ambulance on the line. I gave him a quick nod and looked back at the woman.“Okay,” I said, trying to sound more confident than I felt. “I need you to listen to me. I know it’s scary, but we need to get the baby out. Can you push when I tell you?”
She nodded, tears streaming down her face, sweat dripping down her temples. She gripped my hand tightly, and I could feel her pain, her fear. She looked at the man pacing, who was still uselessly holding the phone, and gave a weak smile.
“He’s been freaking out this whole time,” she said softly, between gasps. “I think he just realized we’re having a baby today.”
The man looked up at that, guilt flashing across his face. He finally hung up the phone and crouched next to her, taking her hand in his. But he didn’t offer anything else—no words of comfort, no support. He just stared at her, wide-eyed.
