Flashback to me waddling toward the Mother and Child building of Hadassa Ein Kerem 16 months ago. It was the middle of the night. Nobody was around, save for the security guys. My water was leaking, leaking, leaking. I was laughing, laughing, laughing. And thinking of a way to express what was happening, should I happen upon an actual medical professional.
My water is breaking.
I don’t know how to say breaking.
My water is going out?
I know this word!
Yetziat Mitzrayim. The going out of Egypt.
Hamayim sheli yehotzei. My water is going out.
Of course! I repeated it to myself over and over, with each labored step toward medical salvation.
When I finally found the triage unit (strangely far removed from the entrance of the Mother and Child building – as if most people make their way in with time to spare), I was ready. I made my announcement to the 2 doctors and 2 midwives who raised their eyes toward me from the midst of their conversation.
Hamayim sheli yehotzei!
Four puzzled looks.
Ha mayim! The water!
Nothing.
I pointed.
Ahhhh, yeridat mayim. (The waters are lowering).
Four knowing looks.
In Israel you can raise your glass or raise your prices but you can’t raise your children.
No it’s not that stereotype that children in Israel raise themselves. Even if it were, it would be that Israeli children grow themselves. Because, like tomatoes and flowers, you grow children in Israel. And if you happen to be a shepherd, you grow sheep.
To serve man
I was kind of surprised to find that when you serve in the army it’s the same kind of serving as when you serve dinner.
It’s a cookbook! I joked.
Nobody knew what I was talking about.
Sometimes I feel like I am in my own personal Twilight Zone.
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Have you also worked out that in Israel you don't give birth, you child. Yaladet!
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