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It was Wednesday morning, September 1, 1999.

Katie and I had gotten up early that morning because we were expecting to go to Dr. Hoyos' office around 10 am for her now weekly check ups. We were excited to be going -- and hopefully getting some news -- because the week before, he told her "no action yet." In the past few weeks, it was getting increasingly difficult for Katie to just "be" because of the lateness of the pregnancy. Forty weeks is a long time to do anything, much less carry a baby to term.

Anyway, we were 3 days past due and antsy to know when we could be expecting action. So I got up, made some breakfast (breakfast tacos -- potato, egg and chorizo -- from Tuesday's leftover Pappasitos stuff), and we started getting ready for the appointment. As usual, I let Katie go first, and I hung out and cleaned the kitchen.

By the time she was toweling off, the phone was ringing -- it was Dr. Hoyos' nurse, Bernice. No appointments today -- the air is out in the building. Doctor Hoyos is leaving for vacation tomorrow anyway. Can we come back next Tuesday, after Labor Day? I really thought Katie was going to cry.

"But we're 3 days past due and we need to know if anything's happening!!" OK -- so we set an appointment for Thursday morning, with Dr. Chavez. At least we would know something. And if Jackson didn't come by the Tuesday after Labor Day, they would induce. Not exactly what we wanted to hear, but we dealt with it.

So, with no real important things to do, I just took a quick shower -- passed on shaving -- and we made plans to go to a movie and get a bite of lunch. We had been in a self-imposed quarantine for a few days waiting on Jackson, so we needed to get out. And with that in mind, we settled on a 1:30 movie at the Agusta Cineplex Odeon -- about 15 minutes from home.

Yep, just before we were thinking about heading out for lunch -- about 12:15 -- the water broke! I was sitting in the living room with Katie watching something useless on daytime TV, when she got up for the bathroom. All of the sudden, I hear a groan -- and I run to the bathroom. As soon as I rounded the corner of the hallway, I could see the bathroom floor soaking wet -- all over the rug -- and some signs of blood. I was shocked.

"I think it's time to go to the hospital!" Katie said. And with those words, it had begun.

Well, we called the doctor's office, let them know what was going on. "Are you ready to go to the hospital," Bernice asked. "Yep." "Well, then go on over there. They're full right now, so you won't have a room yet; but wait there and they'll get you one as soon as they can. I'm letting Dr. Hoyos know what's going on, too." Great -- we'll head right over.

All of the sudden, I wasn't ready. I still had a list of things I needed to do before we went to the hospital. I had gathered all the CD's so we would have something to listen to during labor, but I hadn't checked to see if our portable player even worked, much less had batteries. And I didn't have any regular film for the camera. I had my digital and my digital video, but Katie wanted some "regular" pics, too, and I hadn't gotten film yet.

Hell, I hadn't even shaved.

Well, we got everything packed, checked our list, called my mom and hers, called my dad so he could get on the road from Baton Rouge to Houston, popped by the store for some last minute things, and made it to the hospital by 1:30.