Two years ago today…. This was written then, not now. I don’t remember what I had for breakfast, much less the details to the most exiting day of my life!
—————————————

Saturday March 8th 2008. She was due March 17th, but we were going to be induced that following Friday or Monday if I wanted. She was big enough. We were ready.
I had been having contractions for about 2-3 weeks, and that week there were some that really kicked my butt. So I thought. But the night before my water broke, I had none. I slept great. (well, as great as you can with a huge belly) I woke up for my usual pee, and when I got back into bed, I felt like I didn’t finish or something. Went back in, and things were wet. Not a lot. But enough. I waited a few. Check. Yup. Wet. This shiver and rush of nerves came over me, and it was the EXACT feeling I had when I saw two lines on the pregnancy test. Same same. I giggled and went over and poked David. “Hey, you won’t have to go to work today. Buddy! My water just broke!” (long pause…) “It’s Saturday, numbnuts.” And he just layed there. Unshocked and unrattled. I laughed a lot because I had a training day scheduled at work, and really didn’t want to do it. My sweet co-worker Mary would have my HEAD if I went into labor, meaning she would have to do it. I laughed non-stop when I called her to tell her the news!

I got some things together, and David calmly made some coffee and watched the morning news. (see video). We wanted to wait until 7am so we could drop Baloo off at Doggy Daycare. I had very little activity going on in the bellay. So we waited.
Dropped Baloo off and stopped at Burger King for breakfast. We had a lovely drive out to Wack, and both just kinda giggled and laughed a bit. Our lives were about to change. Shouldn’t we be running red lights or something????

Sat 8AM – Waddled into L&D with a towel between my legs. We found out I got the idiot old doc on call. Dr. N was old-school and talked to women like they were idiots. I was warned by my fabulous nurses, who all had 3 little girls, it seems. We had a long talk about staying away from c-sections and pitocin. He didn’t listen. He was telling me how to push within 2 seconds of meeting me. WEIRD doc, to say the least. So bummed Dr. F was not on that weekend. So bummed.

Sat 8:01am – Started walkin’ the halls. David saw a couple of co-workers and was just GIDDY with excitement. It was too cute. Didn’t see that when he was with me, but with them it showed. We called Poppa Nelson and some others, and made arrangements with Scott to get going on, what would soon to be called “that damn basement.” I had already called M&D, they were waiting to hear the plan. I waited to tell them. LoL.
M&D came later that morning to see what was going on. Nothing was. Nothing. The doc was still pushing his junk on me, and when I hadn’t had hardly a contraction, and certainly was not dialating past 3cm, I started to consider. M&D took David out to lunch (what?) and we reluctantly agreed to start the pitocin. I got jacked up on fluids and we began the game. About 3 minutes after David left for lunch, the pitocin was started. About 4 minutes later, the contractions came in with full force. The nurse said no way was it because of the drugs, just coincidence. Great, now I had my body doing what it was supposed to, but now it’s being stimulated into overdrive by artificial drugs. And my husband is having a cold Blue Moon and juicy burger. Dammit!

The contractions hurt a bit, but were manageable. I sent M&D home. Or so I thought. I knew she’d try to go hide down the hall, but Dad promised he would take her home. I was joking about it with the nurses, telling them to call security if they saw her lurking.

I delayed the epidural a few, to see what I could take. That didn’t last long. I was squacking for it by 4cm. The nurse put the call into the anesthesiologist. She barely got the words “scoliosis and thorasic fusion” out and he hung up the phone, saying he’d come right up. Well, longest story short, I got the surprise of my life when he said he was not comfortable giving me an epidural. WHAT? You don’t tell someone the opposite of what they’ve been thinking for 9 months!! (well, longer, a gal thinks about these things!) He cited “infection” and even if he could get in, he was skeptical that it would even work. I had brought my surgical notes and xrays, and everyone I talked to didn’t see a problem with it. Although he really knew what he was talking about, “Dr. Moose and Squirrel” as we called him (he was Russian with a very thick accent) made my day a little bit worse. David was willing to listen to him, I begged to differ. HE should give birth then! We took some time to talk about it, and the doc even came back with some literature about it. David googled some things, I had a meltdown or two, and we talked it out. In the end, we decided that if he was willing to give it a TRY, I would be understanding if he couldn’t do it. He took two tries, and got right in. I tolerated the “bee sting” fine, but he hit something that made he jump, feeling like he hit a bone or something. (he didn’t). It was not that traumatic. In about 15 minutes I had lost the horrible back contractions, and after he gave me “old trick” juice, I felt nothing. Not a thing. Nuffin. It was beautiful. Shamefully Beautiful.

Before that, from noon until 5pm I labored, au natural, for 5 hours straight, all jacked up on pit. Made it to a mere 6 cm. I am incredibly proud of myself on my laboring efforts. The nurses all said I was doing a great job, whatever. I was able to stay totally calm, and basically moan through the pain. That in itself irked David, but I didn’t care. The pain was DISGUSTING. Seriously. I got a 10 second break between contractions. Wanted to save all drugs (stadol, etc) for the hard part, should I not be able to get the epi. The best position ended up being sitting on the edge of the bed with the table & pillows in front of me. David would press really hard on my lower back during the contractions, and even had the nerve to tell me his hand was starting to hurt. Bruuhhaaaa!!!!!!! Poor baby!

So by 6-7pm the epi was working great, and I requested antibiotics and a witch doctor to stop the pending infection (able to jump sterile field, lol) to which they obliged. We agreed to yank epi the second I give birth and repeat the ancef.

By 7:30’ish I was dialated to 9cm and she was already crowning a bit without my pushing. Lots of activitity in the room, parents came in one more time, then went to pace the halls. It ends up my mom hid downstairs in the ER lobby ALL DAY. She thought I didn’t know this but I tricked my dad into busting her. Poor nurses were trying play defense, but I told them they could visit quick. They were very loyal nurses. Love them. (all 20 of them, a lot of changing of the guards)

8pm “laboring down” a couple practice pushes. Nurse went nuts, told me to cross my legs and don’t push.

8:30pm Doc finally graced us with his presence. He struck me as a Doofus right off the bat. I swear he had several episiotomy scissors all lined up in his holster, ready for action. We had a nice talk about putting them away. I didn’t want one. (I was actually OK with whatever was needed to not be ummm, damaged, but don’t get greedy, boss) He agreed to try everything possible to avoid a snip. He was full of chit.

9pm –I did a couple of pushes. She didn’t even do the “turtle thing” where she slipped back in. She slid down, and stayed down. Doc was shocked. As was this mommy. I still didn’t feel a darn thing, and somehow was pushing the right way. I took a peek in the mirror. Gross. Put that thing away. Yikes. (David later said “you didn’t see what I saw!” Uh, yeahIdid. )
Gown up, get everything ready…
9:20pm – game time.

9:29pm on Sat. March 8th, 2008…, after only about 4-5 rounds of contractions, (to which I usually went 4 times not the wussy three!) the little ladybug just SLIPPED right out! I heard him say “ok, one more for the shoulders…” (what?) and I saw her little hand reach up for me. “Hi Honey!” Plunk came the baby, hollering and immediately made eye contact with me. What pain? what labor?
By request, I held her for a long while. We both just starred at her…the most precious thing of a daughter. The doc kept making comments about he wish he knew how much she weighed, but I would not let them take her yet. Who cares, call her “8” and leave me alone. Later when I watched the video, I could hear him saying “now we’re going to push on your tummy to get the icky stuff out” WHAT? I’m 34 damn years old, AND I’m a nurse. Talk like a big boy you idiot! I also was surprised to hear that the clanking and clicks of the hemostats were, indeed, an episiotomy. I was not happy to be left out of the discussion. I made quite a deal about it later to my OB. Wrong, wrong, wrong. Oh well. Bygones.

10 fingers on huge hands, 10 toes, zero flippers or orange stripes. (grin)

Tons of darker hair, which when later cleaned up as downy soft brown fluff with white highlights. We’ll see what happens to it, but it was hilarious. 8 cow-licks? really? I don’t see how she gets the nerve to be so darn cute! Is she kidding me????

She was slightly smaller than U/S thought, at 7lbs 13oz. 19.5 ” long. She bears NO resemblance to me whatsoever. She almost has that same “asian” look that I thought David did a tiny bit in one of the 1st piks I have of him. Weird. She was very puffy, and wailed like heck on the clean-up table! Watching mom and dad see her was very cool, and dad kept saying “she has such muscle definition!” and sent text messages to everyone.

To say “I’m in love” is nothing. It’s like I just got to reunite with an old friend I’ve known for years. Too much to catch up on, but so much you feel you already know in your heart.

After much deliberation, Nemo’s real name is Ava Claire. (after my dear grandma)

She is perfect.

Don’t believe me?
See for yourself: