The story of my going into labor is far too long, since I like to tell a good long story. But here's a very condensed version...
My water broke at 5:41 am March 18, with contractions waking me up first. I called Jeff and he called his mom who was on her way to work, and she had to turn around and get Jeff. In the mean time, I told dad since he was already awake, then I woke up mom. Then I showered, not knowing my water would continually break for the next several hours. About an hour and a half later, we all went to the hospital in what looked like a caravan of cars, me and mom first, dad second, Jeff and Jackie last. After the registration, they took me to triage where I got hooked up and poked with needles. Then I was moved to one of two of the largest delivery rooms they had. Large room, small tv with very limited channels. Dad left for work, and it was a waiting game from thereafter. When I requested to get an epidural, mom Jackie and Jeff went to eat at Denny's. What did I have (and for the entire day)? Popsicles. So they came back an hour later, and all day nurses came in and checked on me, and I couldn't sleep so we just watched tv, namely the March Madness games. Seeing that my water broke so early in the morning, we (and the nurses) thought Elliot was gonna be born that day. But around 10p, they started preping me, and the pushing started. And I pushed. And pushed. And pushed. I wasn't sure I was doing anything at all since I was so numb down there. Then the nurse said Elliot was turned on his side (not a big problem, or even a problem at all), so they turned down my epidural so he could get in the right position, or something, I was so tired at that point. The break lasted for at least an hour and I managed to nap a bit. It was 11:30p that we started again. So I pushed. And pushed. And pushed. Here comes Dr. Paul, to the rescue (or at least her job). At that time, I was feeling my contractions, and I was wondering if this would ever end. The pain was like cramps but a billion times worse. At each push I closed my eyes, and then I heard Dr. Paul say, "Open your eyes" and there I saw this tiny little boy crying and naked (born at 12:35a March 19). My first reaction wasn't to cry, or whatever. The first thought that ran through my head was "Oh my god, hair". It looked like my child was wearing a toupee. I've never seen that much hair on a baby, especially one that was literally born a minute ago. Then they put Elliot on my chest so I can hold him for the first time in both of our lives. I was taken back at first because I thought they were gonna clean him up before giving him to me. But he was all icky sticky. Yet goregous. After the clean up and pictures, the doctor and nurses left except for the one teaching me how to breastfeed (which never worked out), my parents (dad came after work) and Jackie left. Jeff left to go get our bags. Later I was moved to my recovery room where I still never got anything to eat. The nurses did all the routine stuff with Elliot, foot prints, bath and stuff, and my family was finally alone (for at least an hour cause it was soon a revolving door of nurses every 45 min). Later that morning I got breakfast, and visitors. Speaking of revolving doors, I constantly had visitors. Not that I wasn't grateful, it's just that I haven't had much sleep. Same for Sunday with visitors. Then Monday I went home with my baby boy. I don't think I've ever been so scared. I wanted to stay at the hospital forever. So I went home and life began with Elliot Miles.
And yes, that was a very condensed version of the labor/delivery story
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