The story

Last Monday, the 30th, was like any other Monday. With my due date still a week away, I was planning on resting.

Ha.

I swung into high nesting gear- organizing things left and right. The cats stayed out of sight for fear I would some how organize them into the closet.

I made some meat loaf for dinner, freezing two thirds of it and prepping the last bit for dinner. I put it in the oven and E came home and we had a lovely evening.

But I had been stewing on something sad I'd read during the day, something that added to a fear that I had been having for some time. I had been stressing for a week or so that I could somehow miss an urgent sign of distress in my baby. That "user error" would harm my boy. Then one of my online friends, due within weeks of me, delivered a still born with the cord wrapped around its neck. I was very scared that this could somehow happen to me and spent the day trying to count kicks.

We were getting into bed and I finally fessed up to E what I'd been stressing about, and more importantly, why (told him about my friend). While I had been feeling kicks, they were much less rambunctious than usual and both of us proceeded to TOTALLY FREAK OUT. We were trying to be logical and calm and talked for about an hour why we shouldn't freak out, but by eleven thirty or so, we decided to call the doc for some reassurance.

The L&D doc told me that probably there wasn't anything to worry about, but given that I was at 39 weeks, we should come in just in case. So, we took a few things (E's entertainment bag, since we knew that there can sometimes be a long wait to be seen, and my book bag, which was mostly entertainment but also had a few snacks and a water bottle, and of course chargers for our phones) and we called down for a cab. The cab was waiting for us by the time we made it down, and we headed up town.

E called his parents with the message of, it's probably nothing, but we're getting it checked anyhow. I didn't bother my parents. They go to sleep at 7pm like most Florida retirees.

We checked in with no wait. The triage doctor found a nice strong heartbeat and we all breathed a sigh of relief. But then he said that there was nearly no fluid surrounding the baby. There was no way we were going home in that state.

So there we were, with out all of our prepared bags and such, admitted to L&D and about to begin induction. This time I did call my folks and left a message. Then I called my brother, because he is in the military and will always answer the phone no matter what time it is. I told him what was what, and asked him to call our parents in the morning. E called his folks and told them not to rush out, that it would be 24-48 hours before baby actually arrived.

The laboring room was rather nice. Which was a good thing considering how much time we spent there.

We watched the sun come up.
We talked.
We attempted to sleep.
We chatted with the staff.
I played games on my phone and read on my Kindle. E read on his Kindle and read news on his phone. And some where in all of that I got an epidural.

Originally I wasn't going to get one so early, but I had also said that if I was induced, I would totally get one and as soon as possible, because I have heard what Picotin does and how not fun it is. It was really hard to stay in position for the epidural. The nurse was really nice though, rubbing my shoulders and neck while they worked.

We watched the sun set.
We chatted with the staff, we tried to sleep, we talked, we played a game called life stories where you get asked questions like, where was your favorite place to play?, and we talked about the answers we would want Ranger to give when he got older.

Then we watched the Obama speech on Afganistan. E wanted to watch it so much, but he also wanted coffee. I was beginning to feel the need to push, so I told him it was one or the other.
Sure enough, I was totally ready to go around the time E turned off the tv. The doc came in and verified this and we began a three hour game of "push 1,2,3,4,5,6,7,8,9,aaaaaannnnnd10". That nurse had the longest AND between 9 and 10.

Somewhere in all of this, E and the doc discovered that they had gone to the same undergrad school during some of the same years, and were happily chatting away about this class or that teacher between my pushes. The nurse andI shared a few rolled eyes at this.

I'm not going to lie to you and say it didn't hurt. I'm not going to say that seeing the head made it easier to ignore the pain. It did hurt. A lot. For which there was only one solution: deliver the baby.

During all of this...um...fun, I apparently was pretty witty. The doctor told E that I was a hoot and it was amazing that even through it all I had such a great sense of humor. Now, I don't recall much of what I said, so I can't provide many examples. I know that somewhere in the last hour I announced that this kid was grounded for taking so long. I remember the doc's eyes crinkling in laughter at that one, and him saying he'd never heard that one before. I also remember that I was using Jodies to control my breathing and at one point interrupted the song to let out a string of curses, then paused and said, "that's not part of the Jody" and continued singing.

Ranger was born at 1131 pm on the 1st. We'd been there for just about 24 hours.
Since then we've been getting to know each other.




















Typing one handed has delayed this post long enough, so now I'll press "Publish" and nuzzle a tiny nose.