How he was birthed

False Alarm Friday came and went, and Saturday morning dawned new! energy! for! me! I got over my temper tantrum that I hadn't had the baby yet, and went shopping with Sis Pastor's Wife for the other new baby. The funny thing is that I was visiting my friend, and every nurse that came in to bother her check on her kept looking at me very nervously. I felt great! I felt only about 6 months pregnant!

I had a few actual contractions Saturday night, but they weren't terribly painful, just enough for me to know that McMeanie Nurse on Friday was right. Sheesh, I hate admitting that in writing.

Sunday morning Mr Lemon had to go to work, and when he woke up at 5:00 I also woke up. To contractions 5 minutes apart, right from the start. Real ones. He was hesitant to go to work, but I insisted, since I had kept him home on Friday for nothing. I was even still considering going to church Sunday morning, but around 7:30 I called Thithy to beg a ride to the hospital before she went to church.

(She stayed until I made her leave and go to church. She's that kind of friend!)

I was only 2-3 cm dilated, 60% effaced, so the nurse suggested that I walk around for an hour and see how things went. They didn't go far. Around 11:30 she suggested I would be more comfortable at home, get something to eat. Blah. Blah. Blah. By the time Thithy got back to the hospital to take me home (because remember, I insisted my husband go to work) my contractions were 3-5 minutes apart and getting stronger.

I SO WANTED to follow the nurse's suggestion to get something to eat, but every time I tried to fix something I would have another contraction and have to sit down. Finally I used the pain of one to dig into the ice cream. Never underestimate the power of a woman in pain. I next to never can serve the ice cream, it's too hard for me to get out of the box.

Mr Lemon came home 2 hours early, and we called the doctor (not this one) since I was now 3 minutes apart and couldn't really talk easily through them, and she said, "Hey, go to the hospital, get checked for your peace of mind, and maybe they can give you a sleeping pill to get through the night. Your appointment is tomorrow."

BLAH. BLAH. BLAH.

I still was only 2-3 cm dilated.

Stupid cervix.

We decided to grab a funny movie on the way home and try to laugh our way into labor. By the time we got to the hospital exit, I changed my mind about the movie and just wanted to take that magic little pill and go to sleep. Which I did.

Until about 12:00 or so, when I was howling in pain, and Mr Lemon slept on the floor next to the recliner so I could break his arm squeeze his hand. The funniest moment was when I catapulted out of the recliner and tackled him. That contraction was pretty strong. He called the BLAH BLAH BLAH doctor and told her we were coming in.

They gave me Stadol. Bless them. I got a little rest in between contractions, and apparently I got enough rest to talk in my sleep as I am wont to do. Mr Lemon said I woke him up saying "Tiny little hands - tiny little feet - tiny little shoulders."

Around 7am came shift change, and I was getting very nervous. I was worried they were going to send me home, and after having the drugs and still being in pain, I knew I wasn't going to be able to handle not being on the drugs. But I heard the night nurse giving the day nurse a report on me, and the new nurse was like, "What's your 3cm?" as if she was asking to see how she determines 3cm with her fingers, and they kinda waffled back and forth about if the one nurse's 3cm was closer to 4cm.

I would just like to interject at this point that having your cervix checked isn't really fun unless you know there will be a good result from it.

And I have never talked about my cervix so much in my life.

Finally the new nurse came in and MADE MY DAY. She was all, "Oh yeah, you're a good solid 4, hmmm, 'mkay, let's see if I can just break your water right here."

!!!

Blessedly, no water breaking in the triage area, but when she said that, Mr Lemon leaned his head back in REVERENT THANKS that we were staying.

From there on out, it's pretty much boring - I got an epidural, doctor broke my water, I threw up, ate a popsicle, threw that up, and chatted my way through the day with Thithy and Mr Lemon.

My parents and sister were coming, but could not leave until The Ogre got off work at 1pm. They live 3 hours away. We figured they had plenty of time, but around 3:30 the doctor said "We're going to push!" I'm still not nervous about them getting there in time, because I'm expecting 1-2 hours of pushing.

Well. Apparently I'm a good pusher when I'm on drugs. HELLO, FREAKY GOOGLERS. The Ogre ran in and made it for the last 3 pushes so she could cut the cord.

I'd like to report that I did not cuss, or chew anyone's head off, or any of the out of control stuff that labor stories are chock full of. I did not ask anyone for a Finklestein (JEN!!). Mr Lemon was so good to me! So, I'd like to attribute my big smile in the pictures to the drugs, because I really enjoyed my day. At one point I thought he was never coming out, but when he did and there was this baby on my belly with big beautiful eyes, I just couldn't believe it had happened. It's still kind of a shock.

Right now he is sleeping peacefully upstairs, and I cannot imagine my life without children now. What did I ever do with my time before?!

oh yeah. I blogged.