Baby Clown

My poor son - he has to live down the utter humiliation that nearly surrounded his birth.

In August of 1991, I was 7 months pregnant with my third child and as big as a house, but for fun, I decided that I would attend a week long clown camp in Lansing. I knew the routine - I'd go into labor and 2 days later I'd go to the hospital and after 6 hours, I'd have a new baby. I wasn't due until October so my doctor said as long as I didn't do anything to strenuous, I was good to go. Lansing is about an hour and a half from my home. My husband drove me up on a Sunday afternoon and promised to return the following Saturday to pick me up.

The week was filled with learning the business end of clowning as well as performance aspects. We learned to juggle. You learn quickly when you're pregnant because you can't bend over a lot. Face-painting, balloon artistry and magic were also offered.

In the evenings we learned skits because on Friday afternoon and evening, we were going to be putting on performances to benefit local children's charities. I was scheduled to perform in a two-person skit early in the program.

Now we were staying in dorm rooms on the campus of Michigan State University and the beds were not the most comfortable even when you aren't pregnant. I was like a bug on it's back when it came to getting up in the morning.

Well, on Friday morning, I went through my usual rolling, wiggling and thrashing about to get out of bed. Finally, I was upright, but I felt like I'd been twisted and pulled like the balloon animals I'd learned how to make.

I waddled to the cafeteria, but nothing appealled to me, except ice cream and they didn't serve that at 8am so I settled for some juice and toast with jam and oh, the bacon smelled good so I ate some of that. And then I noticed they had blueberry pancakes so I had some of those.

By the time I gorged myself, not only did my back hurt, I was feeling kind of sick to my stomach, but I didn't have time to think about the pain. I think I rolled back to my room and applied my makeup, First a nylon to pull my hair back, then my white base, black eyebrows, black eye liner, add some eye shadow and blush, some red to my mouth, powder and then add the red nose and fake eye lashes. I was a pretty clown. Next came the costume - a maternity dress,and striped socks. My roommate helped me put on my size 25 hot pink clown shoes. I loved wearing them because they acted as a counter balance to my protruding stomach. Finally I added my wig and I was ready to go. We were going to meet and have a run-through rehearsal, a light lunch and then it was SHOW TIME.

I was nervous. I don't know why. The skit was simple enough and didn't involve anything physical; plus I'd performed it many times in the past. But still, something didn't feel right. I paced the hallway, ahhh...now I knew what was wrong. I must have slept wrong, every once in a while make back hurt, but if I streched or twisted it went away.

Rehearsal was a piece of cake. Many of the performers had never done a show before and they were nervous. Some of them were jumping up and down, others we running around and the noise - it seemed like everyone of those clowns was talking in their loudest most annoying clown voice. Someone brought us sandwiches and chips for lunch. Then the director called places, it was show time!!!

The other clowns seemed to grow even more frenzied. All I wanted to do is lay down. My back still hurt, but the show must go on. Our skit was called and out we bounced. Ok, my partner bounced and I waddled. I smiled extra big and performed our best. We waved as we scurried out of the center ring and once we got to the backroom, I found a chair and sat down.

A few minutes later, another clown came over and asked if I was ok. "Sure, I just slept wrong."
His clown name was Brit and he told me to wait right there, like I could disappear, and said, he'd be right back. A few minutes later, he returned, with the camp nurse. She was a real nurse, not a clown nurse. I just wanted to clarify that in case you pictured a clown dressed in a nurse's uniform carrying a large syringe.
"So what's going on?" She asked.
"Nothing, I just slept wrong last night. Got a little backache."
"Hmmm..."
"Well, I don't think she looks good" said Brit.
Now, how he could tell I didn't look good was beyond me. Every inch of my face was covered in heavy clown white - so yeah, I was pale, but that's how I was suppose to look.

The nurse started feeling around on my stomach and told Brit to go get a car. "You're going to the hospital," she said to me.
"No, I'm fine, just need an aspirin."
"Well, let's let the doctor decide that." She pulled me from the chair. She probably hurt her own back and should have used a pulley to hoist me up.

I got in the backseat, she got in the front. Brit waved at us as we pulled out of the parking lot.

She must have called ahead because I was quickly ushered into the hospital and didn't even have fill out any forms. We headed to the bank of elevators to take us to the third floor - labor and delivery.

When we got to the elevators, one was just boarding a woman ahead of us, but when she turned around and saw me, her eyes grew large and I thought if she's not having a heart attack already, if I get on this elevator she's definitely going to have one. So I waited for the next one.

When I stepped out on the third floor, the hall was lined with doctors and nurses. I was a parade of two - me and the nurse. We were assigned a room and the doctor on call wasted no time in getting me in a bed and my legs in stirrups. I didn't even have time to take off my shoes.

So there I lay, I could see my big pink clown shoes in the stirrups, a white sheet over my stomach. I did take off my wig, but I was wearing a white skullcap so I just looked like a baby bird's head - no hair. So pretty much I was pink shoes and a big white blob laying there.

As for the backache - it was labor pains. My contractions at that point were three minutes apart and I was far enough along for them to let me have the baby so they gave me something to stop labor.

Throughout the afternoon and evening, I had the best care. Doctors and nurses were stopping in to check on me. Finally about 8pm, one doctor came in and was checking my pulse. I asked who he was and he told me a cardiologist. My heart nearly stopped.

"What's wrong with me?" I shrieked.
"Nothing, I just wanted to see what you looked like."
I scowled at him.

At 10pm, I received a phone call from the security guard. "Hey, there's a bunch of clowns down here, said they wanted to see ya."

"They have my makeup remover! Let them in!"
"Oh you're the clown in labor," he chuckled. "I can't let them all in, but maybe one would be ok, it is after visiting hours."

"Thanks"
My roommate showed up a few minutes later and brought me some regular clothes and helped me remove my makeup. She sat with me for a little while and then headed back to the dorm.

The next day I was released with orders to stop clowning around. Very funny! My camp roommate drove me back to the campus where I waited for my husband to show up. He hadn't come up the night before because he said he couldn't find anyone to watch our daughters. I think he wanted to watch a ballgame.

Approximately, two months later, arriving two days late, my son Seth was born. There are no pictures of me in labor in my clown makeup because I was an angry, pregnant clown and I don't think anyone want to cross me. Give me a break, I was in labor, in my clown costume - you'd be a bit cranky too.