I struggle with how much detail to include, here.
Like, do I say that 'on day two of week 40, I had a doctor's appointment and shortly thereafter I went into labor?'
Or do I say, "Well, I waddled into the doctor's office, huffing and puffing, two days overdue, and - despite my best tricks - couldn't get my blood pressure to go down to normal, so the doctor (un)mercifully got things moving with a procedure during which I - a woman of great composure - involuntarily exclaimed, "holy crap!"
I'll go with the latter until the details become something from which you can't recover:
After the terrible awful that made me holler at around 11:00 a.m., he proclaimed that I would be induced this day.
Then I cried, because I really, really didn't want that. lol. (not in front of the doctor)
So I sucked it up and waddled home to get my bag and blow dry my hair betwixt trying to make a 2 year old understand where I was going and putting her down for a nap.
At around 2:00 p.m., Brandon and I headed for the hospital and not a minute too soon, because by this point, I was in full blown gonna-have-the-baby-this-is-not-a-joke labor. The words I was saying at this point were much, much less gentile than "holy crap!"
They were, in fact, the very worst words I'd use, but were mostly drowned out by AC/DC's Back in Black, which Brandon and I agreed was awesome enough to take my mind off of most anything for the 15 minute car ride. Even in the Mustang. Ugh. The tight suspension. I die.
Luckily, Dr. Bighands had heralded our arrival and we were in a room by 3:00.
In a stroke of luck, friends kept us company* for what I assumed would be a long, yet civilly medicated process. Other friends who work at the hospital also stopped by our room for quick chats, which totally kept my mind off the fact that the epidural, which I received at 4:00 p.m., when I was juuuust about to begin cranking out some seriously ugly facial contortions/cussing, was only working on one side of my body.
*I would recommend having friends around to any woman who thinks she's in danger of throwing some kind of embarrassing monkeyshine fit at the onset of contractions, because seriously.. are you going to do that in front of people you're gonna have to look in the face for years to come? No.
Shortly after realizing I'd rather not suffer through it all Scarlett O'Hara style, I spoke up and got some additional drugs. Because that's how I like my deliveries. Numb. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't terrified it wasn't going to work and my hands were so sweaty that I felt the need to explain it to anyone who shook my hand - which everyone who comes into the room seems to want to do. A dear friend likened them to that of a small mammal. Anyway.
At around 5:00, a doctor came in and assessed the...err.. situation (don't worry..our friends left the room) and proclaimed me 'ready.'
So, a whole gang of people flooded into the room to stock it with all kinds of baby-having "stuff" and drape it all up...kinda Dexter-esque, honestly, while I pretended to be impeccably collected about the whole thing, continually bantering with Brandon and the nurses and doctor and probably saying unfunny things that I punctuated with nervous, too-loud laughter.
I only nearly lost my marbles once, when the doctor said that Henry might be 'sunny side up' and it might take a while longer to get him out.. and I was catapulted back to Harper's labor and birth and lord, I knew I did not want to go there, again. Because that 'there' is hard to get over.
I warned Brandon one last time to keep his eyes above my waist and we started that there.
My internal dialogue went something like this, and it was really all I had time to think:
Wow, my own legs are heavy. I can't believe they're making ME pick them up.
Hush about the pushing already! No need to go all crazy on the first one, y'all.
We've got many, many more contractions where this one came from.
Can I get a break, here?!
Does someone in this room of 95 people have a water bottle they can squirt into my mouth?
I thought that, surely, I had run upon the most overzealous team of 'coaches' in history and I was dreading, with all my might, the next two hours, because 45 seconds in, I had already left it all on the field.
Little did I know. . .
As unceremoniously as the day had begun, it was punctuated in just one contraction and four pushes.
the newest little love of my life.
5:55 p.m. 8 lbs, 7.5 oz. 21 inches.
He arrived in record time, and I am so glad, because now I know I couldn't have gone another second without knowing him.