The Start of Babe...Part 2

I think we left off in July.
With the swelling.
And the itching.

It was nearing the end of the pregnancy when we moved from the apartment to a house a few blocks down.
The process was horrific.  Let's just leave it at that.
 
But, a few weeks later, my whole family came out!
It was fun and crazy and I'm still in LOVE with the breakfast hash my dad made:)
Let me tell you something.  Growing up we had plenty of stories about dad's cooking.  It wasn't that he wasn't good at it, but when you combine his military background with a greater appreciation for spice than us little kids had, well, we didn't always see eye to eye regarding what we would call "good" meals.  So I was pleasantly surprised when I thought his hash was delicious (I'm still kind of a wuss when it comes to spice-just ask John).  I guess I shouldn't have been, though.  He is the one who taught me how to make scrambled eggs.  And I make some pretty good scrambled eggs, if I do say so myself.
Anywho, it was fun and we had a birthday party for my little brother.  Being 5 his excitement was contagious and I almost forgot that this baby still wasn't out.  Almost.

Her original due date was July 4th (!)...then it was moved to July 7th (meh)...and we induced on July 13th.  By then my dad had already gone home, which makes me sad.  I wish I had had the confidence to say-no, I'd like to induce now.  But I understand the doctor's desire to let my body do it's own thing.
My body, however, wanted to take a little too long (at two weeks post-partum all sorts of bad things can start happening, I know lots of ladies are against inducement and don't like how it affects the mother-but, put simply, I'm more than happy to take a hit for my kid).


The night before I go in I'm seriously psyching myself out. Can't sleep, I'm throwing up.  And, of course, because of the inducement, I couldn't eat anything after midnight.  So by the time I stopped throwing up I couldn't eat.  My poor mom, trying to help me discovers that my 3 year old sister is throwing up, too.
If anyone is wondering, John had a paper route, so he got some needed sleep and was gone for the early morning hours.
Despite it all we got to the hospital at 6am.  By 7 (I think) the paperwork and the IVs were set up.
Funny thing, though, as a nurse was setting up the band to monitor contractions she started looking curious.
"Are you feeling anything right now?"
"No."
"Well, you're having a contraction.  A big one."
After the fact, I was talking to my mom and she thinks I had started into labor the night before.  I was nauseated, my back hurt and was apparently having contractions before any actual 'induction' took place.  Looking back, I don't doubt it. 
Within the next hour we started pitocin and, according to the monitor, it did it's job.  Then the doctor broke my water.  Then it hurt.
Totally didn't feel ANYTHING until my water broke.  Then I REALLY felt it.
By 11am I got an epidural.

Yes.

Back story-for several years prior to getting married I had been training as a classical vocalist.  Let me tell you, I was ready to perform an aria right then and there to the glories of epidurals! 
It wasn't perfect, though.  Along the way (you know, rolling back and forth, trying to get 'comfortable') the tube had become undone, so the epidural wasn't fully effective.  However, it was still pretty heavenly and I'm glad I got it.
I have to qualify.  Getting the epidural was horrendous.
Horrendous.
Sort of unique-but I got the local anesthetic (the "bee sting") and the epidural itself 5 times.
You read that right.

I got that combo 5 times.

 Hospital rules said John couldn't be in there.  We heard it was because some dad fainted during his wife's epidural and getting injured but as everyone was focused on his wife he didn't get medical care immediately and he sued.  Or maybe that's just a pretend example.  Anyways...
When John found out he was furious.  To this day he says if he ever sees that guy again he'll knock him out (Ha!  Get it?  Knock out the anesthesiologist?  Huh?)  Oh well, clearly John is more mad about it than I am.

Regardless, I was glad that I could breath again.
But that didn't mean things just sped along.  Nope.  We waited.
I didn't mind too much, though.  I wasn't in extreme pain and there was a What Not To Wear marathon on tv!  John still doesn't get why I enjoy the show, but that's okay.  Plus, I was the only person in the maternity ward, so when the nurses didn't have anything else to do they came in and hung out and watched with me!

The day stayed at pretty much that pace until 5pm-ish...