Last night while watching The Biggest Loser finale and eating my regular dose of Potbelly's with a chocolate milk shake, I started having contractions. After Sunday's debacle, we decided to just ignore them and go to bed. I woke up in what the books call "discomfort" at 12:40. After realizing that my discomfort was coming every 8 minutes, I woke Ben up around 1:40, and we were uncomfortable together until 3-ish, when Jamie came over, and Ben and I went to the hospital.
My contractions really sucked at that point, but they were manageable if I stood up, rocked back and forth, and hugged Ben really tight (he claims I actually lifted him off the ground at one point.
Here we are walking to Labor and Delivery, sure they would find I was only like 3 cm and send us home.
I was 7 centimeters! 7! Like only 3 away from 10!
At that point, I got really excited and realized I coul live my dream of an epidural-free birth.
Um, that hurt.
I was a screamer and a biter (ask Ben). At one point, the doc on call told me to "Get my act together and focus." So I did. On ripping her head off as soon as I got the baby the hell out. Ring of fire? A very apt description.
But the cord was wrapped around the baby's neck, so things were quite scary there for a moment when he came out blue and quiet, and I forgot about killing the doctor and focused on being deliciously pain free and on the miraculous sounds of his precious crying.
Here we are with Jack Leonard, named for his great grandfathers and born at 6:03 am, weighing 6 pounds 14 inches and measuring 20 inches long.