Some may find it interesting, some may not, but I want to record it while it's still reasonably fresh in my memory, both for myself, and hopefully for my daughter to read someday. She should know everything I went through to deliver her into this world, and hopefully will feel bad enough about it that she'll always behave herself and listen to her mother. And it's in a fun first-person stream-of-consciousness narrative!

May 15, 2007

10:00 p.m.

Sigh. I'm still pregnant. Why am I still pregnant? I'm huge. My hips hurt. My back hurts. Doesn't this baby want to be born? I wonder what we have to eat.

10:05 p.m.

Oh, great. I just wet my pants. Life could not be better.

10:06 p.m.

That's. Not. Pee. Neat! I'll go tell Darcy. Hmm, he has his headphones on and isn't paying any attention to me. I guess I'll tell him over Messenger. Yes, he's only four feet away but I have to use Messenger to deliver the news that my water just broke.

10:10 p.m.

Shouldn't something be happening right now? Like contractions? Or am I just going to leak all night? Time to call Helen.

10:15 p.m.

Helen says labour should start in the next 24 hours, and in the meantime, to get used to the leaking. Gross.

10:30 p.m.

Oh, owwwwwww. Oh, this sucks. And this is only the beginning? I am totally crazy for thinking I could do this without painkillers. This is the worst thing ever. I'm going to walk up and down the hall now.

11:30 p.m.

Still walking up and down the hall. Still in horrible amounts of pain.

May 16, 2007

12:30 a.m.

Still walking up and down the hall. Okay, this is lame. We're going to the hospital now and I'm going to make them put a nice big needle in my spine and make it all go away. I don't care how scary it is. Make it go away.

12:35 a.m.

I do NOT want to get in the car. There's no way I can stay sitting down for ten whole minutes. I'll just walk in circles on the front lawn.

12:40 a.m.

Okay, we're in the car. Darcy's knuckles are white as he's gripping the steering wheel. I'll try to be quiet so he doesn't roll us. He's talking about what the plan will be once we get there. Something about dropping me off while he parks. I'm not listening.

12:50 a.m.

Okay, we're here. Had I been in better spirits, I would have laughed at the triage nurse in emergency, who took one look at me, said "oh, we don't want you down here," and opened the door so we could go up to the labour and delivery floor. Funny stuff.

12:55 a.m.

Okay, I'm in the labour and delivery triage room. I'm in a very roomy hospital gown. Helen's here now too and I get to have my assessment. They'd better not try and send me home. I'm not going anywhere.

1:00 a.m.

Seven centimetres dilated! That was fast. Baby is coming quickly. I'm going to a proper delivery room now. Ooh, it has a couch. It looks really comfy. Too bad all I can still do is pace back and forth. I have my own nurse now too. Her name is Melanie. I'm wimping out on the epidural though. I can't go through with it.

1:30 a.m.

Still pacing.

2:00 a.m.

Still pacing. I like Melanie and all, but she needs to stay away from me with her monitoring stuff. Being monitored means not being able to walk. I need to walk.

2:30 a.m.

Jesus. When transition hits, I'm not going to be able to take it. This is the most sucky thing that I've ever experienced. I'm re-reconsidering the epidural. I wonder if I can have it in the next two minutes? Probably not.

2:45 a.m.

I am so, so ready to start pushing. That whole thing a few minutes ago... that was transition. Who needs a needle in the spine now? Pushing feels great. Finally I get to do something.

3:45 a.m.

Still pushing.

4:45 a.m.

Still pushing. I'm in the bathroom, sitting and pushing on the toilet, along with Darcy, Helen, Melanie and Melanie's monitoring equipment. I don't care in the least.

5:45 a.m.

Still pushing. I have pushed in every possible position. I'm getting a little tired of pushing. Hey, it's Dr. Chappell! She's been my pre-natal physician and she's here for a visit. She wants to give me a quick exam and find out why I didn't push out a baby two and a half hours ago. And Dr. Allen is here too! He's the obstetrician on call tonight. He also wants to take a peek. Only his peek is quite ouchy.

5:50 a.m.

Dr. Allen says the baby is posterior, or face-up, and has her head tilted back in a brow presentation to boot. Consequently, the baby's stuck on my pelvic bone and isn't moving, which explains how three hours of pushing has not produced a baby. I have two choices: a) epidural and more pushing, or b) c-section. He says no to trying forceps and says that frankly more pushing probably won't do any good. He's going to leave for a few minutes to let me think it over.

5:51 a.m.

C-section, please. I am so done with this labour thing. But in the meantime, I have to keep pushing. It hurts so much to not push.

6:00 a.m.

Off to the operating room! It's cold. More monitoring and blood-taking and whatnot. Who cares. I'm too tired to be annoyed.

6:10 a.m.

Eww, I still have to have a giant needle in my spine, although not an epidural, just a spinal anesthetic. Still, very freaky. This was the one thing I really, really didn't want. The anesthesiologist looks like a very nice man, but that's my spine he's injecting drugs into. Hey, it doesn't hurt at all.

6:15 a.m.

I love you, Dr. Anesthesiologist. I mean really love you. I have no more pain. I have only good happy feelings. Suddenly I'm in the best mood ever. It's baby time!

6:20 a.m.

Hee hee, Darcy looks hilarious in scrubs. I'm actually joking with the doctors about what a turn-on they are and asking if we can take them home. The change in my mood is surreal.

6:25 a.m.

Wow, they're already messing around behind that sheet. I can feel pressure and movement, but no pain. Bizarre. Again, I love Dr. Anesthesiologist.

6:30 a.m.

Oww, owww! Dr. Chappell is pressing really really hard on my ribcage for some reason... that part's not frozen!

6:32 a.m.

Baby! I can see my baby girl! She's crying! Now I'm crying. And laughing. I don't know what I'm doing. She's huge! Oh, they're moving her away. I can't see her anymore. I want to see my baby!

6:33 a.m.

Dr. Anesthesiologist is helping hold the sheet aside so I can see her at the warming station. He wins my vote for Doctor of the Year.

7:00 a.m.

All done! Off to the recovery room!

7:15 a.m.

Yay, my baby's here! I get to nurse her now. This is so cool! I'm a mommy!

So that's how it went, as far as I can recall. The times should be fairly accurate, as there were clocks everywhere we went and I became a serious clock-watcher. It maybe didn't go quite how I expected or wanted it to, but I ended up with a healthy baby, and that's the only thing that really matters.

Stay tuned for details of our first week!