Emily's birth story (a cautionary tale), part 1

The ladies on my 'baby board' claim that writing all this down is both cathartic and a good 'history' for our children to have one day.  We'll have to see about that.  :)  Plus I figure since her first birthday is coming up (OMG!!!), this is as good of a time as any to share. 

By the by, if you're at all squeamish or it grosses you out to read things about bodily functions, this may not be the blog entry for you - although I'll try to be as un-gross as possible.  Hence this being a cautionary tale.  (That, and I have always wanted to use that subtitle.)

Cue up Friday, July 2nd.  I had been on maternity leave for a week, watching and waiting.  My boss wisely preferred me to do this watching and waiting from home.  :)  Anyway, I woke up around 6 am having what I thought was nature telling me it was time to have a crap.  I should also mention at this point, as normal, hubby was just then going to bed.  After going to the bathroom and finding a little blood, I went into the bedroom and told him 'I think this is it.'  His eyes were as big as saucers.  He got up and started flitting around the house claiming over and over 'I don't know what to do.'  Hey dude, I don't either - but there is nothing to 'do' right now anyway.  Our edict from the doctor was to go to the hospital when the contractions were 5 minutes apart for 2 hours solid.   So, reminding him of this, I somehow managed to calm him down enough to convince him to go to bed.  I figured he'd need as much sleep as he could get in the next 24 hours (Man, I love it when I'm right!!!)  and the contractions at this point were nothing close to regular.

The contractions continued on through the morning, but were not excruciating.  By around noon, though, they were varying anywhere from 5 minutes apart, to 10 or 12 minutes apart.  It was around this time that Chas got out of bed  - bleary eyed (probably from not having slept very well) and still nervous, coupled with a bit of a 'useless' feeling, I think.  I had nothing better to tell him, really, than they were getting a little more regular but not too horribly painful yet.

The irregularity of them continued through the afternoon.  They also started to hurt like buggery a bit more when they did come around.  I tried to 'breathe through them' and all that horseshit.  But there was not much to do but bear it and kiss the ground that the non contraction moments walked on.  I think one of us called our family and friends through all this and warned them.  Honestly I don't remember though.  LOL.

 It's at this time that I would like to flag a moment as 'THINGS NO ONE TOLD ME BUT SHOULD HAVE'.  You'll see several of these throughout the tale - this is the first.  I knew that women in full blown labor at hospitals and shit only ever ate ice chips.  But I wasn't in the hospital and I. was. STARVING.  My dear husband, eager to please his rotund and caterwauling wife, got me food from Captain D's like I asked him to.  I heartily ate it and was glad for it.  (As you are wise to foreshadowing, you'll know beyond the shadow of a doubt that this decision will bite me in the ass later.)

It was around this time that Linda arrived.  I think it was about 6:30.  The contractions were now 5-6 minutes apart with regularity and were of the sort that I could not talk through them with much success, except the stray curse word that undoubtedly came to pass my lips, and we were timing them. But we still had not hit the doctor ordered 'benchmark' (2 hours) - so we waited.

As 8:30 neared, the contractions had FINALLY hit the 'benchmark'.  We called my family and my friend Jennifer  - and we all headed towards Summit Hospital in Hermitage.  I remarkably don't recall Chas driving 100 miles an hour, either.  That would be saved for later.