A baby story: The only part.

Oh, hey there. Remember way back when I used to tell stories 'round these parts? Yeah, I'm trying to get back to it, I promise!

We shall begin my Return to Greatness with the story of Harper's birth. If you remember Alex's story (in four very dramatic parts: here, here, here and here), I can promise you Harper's version is night and day. In fact, this is the only Part it requires.

As you are already aware (and much to everyone's surprise), Harper waited until her scheduled date of October 18 to arrive. Joe and I dropped Alex off at daycare a little early that morning (ever thankful to our Aunt Jane!) and arrived to the hospital around 7:30 am. What an eerie feeling to drive ever so calmly to the hospital, knowing your life is about to change forever. I can't explain how it was different from the dramatic water-breaking-hauling-ass-to-the-hospital with Alex...but it just was. It was the same level of life changing "stuff", but with a calm I can't really describe. Maybe it was the calm and peace of the dark of morning? Who knows.

Anyway, after a little bit of paperwork and hugs from Mom and Dad, I went to triage where they put in my IV (six attempts...they call me "pincushion"), did a quick ultrasound and I met my surgical team.

I actually walked into the Operating Room and hopped up on the table myself. What a difference it was to be in control in a calm, normal environment, vs. being wheeled in a whirlwind, emergent scenario. The OR looked so different this time, and yet it was the same room from nearly five years ago. All I remembered with Alex was the blinding overhead light, the blue drape and the white of the ceiling. This time, I took in the entire room, trying to memorize the last few moments of my life before Harper--the clock on the wall reading we were right on schedule, the baby station awaiting my little girl, the nurses and surgical staff in their blues and face masks, ready for the moments ahead.

The anesthesiologist was running a little behind, so I got to sit on the table for awhile, taking in all the pomp & circumstance of the OR team's very specific, very orderly pre-surgical routine. They counted all the things and did a "roll call," which was all surprisingly calming as I watching my surgeon pacing the floor in what I can only assume is his pre-surgery regimen.

The anesthesiologist came in and administered my spinal. To be honest, this was the part I was most terrified of, but it was nothing more than a small sting and some pressure. The weirdest part was as the drugs started to take effect...the warm, tingly feeling that takes over your body. Five minutes later, I was horizontal on the table and the team was in place.

Once the curtain was up, Joe was allowed in and came and sat near my head.

I was not tied to the table. I did not shake uncontrollably from fear and cold. In fact, the nurse anesthetist that was on my side of the curtain kept warm blankets on me the entire time, as she stroked my hair and kept me company. She had very cool glasses and her eye makeup was flawless. These are the things that kept me entertained.

We chatted with the surgical team the entire time--them keeping us posted on how things were progressing, and me keeping them entertained with questions like, "Will I ever wear a bikini again?" and "Please just take a little off the top."

When they were ready to take Harper out, the nurse put a mirror up for me so I could see her grand entrance--and she came out screaming with a pile of gorgeous, black hair. I cried. Joe cried. It was perfect.

As they closed me up, they brought Harper over to Joe and he got to hold her for the rest of the procedure. He put her near me, and since my arms weren't tied down I got to touch her face and kiss her head. She wasn't crying--and was perfectly content in her Daddy's arms for the remainder of our time in the OR.

When it was time to be wheeled into recovery, Joe got to transport Harper ahead of me and lead our little VeeDub parade down the hall. Once in recovery, I was able to nurse her and our family came back in pairs to meet our newest and littlest girl.

The days that followed in the hospital were pretty much par for the course. I got very dizzy and sick coming down from anesthesia, but once that passed I felt amazing. Joe and I enjoyed the sunrise from our room every day with a routine of hot Starbucks and the local morning news--just basking in the quiet and silence and perfectness of the here and now. Those days (and the quiet!) in the hospital will be something I cherish for the rest of my life.

In summary, Harper entered the world in a far less dramatic way than her brother, but I anticipate that she'll work to even the score as she enters her teen years. At least that's what I'm told.

We checked in as a family of 3 on a Friday and left as 4 on a Monday. Life's never been better.

Niephew is a NEPHEW!

It's a BOY!

Samuel Jeffrey Turner was born at 4:15 am on Feb. 13 @ 8 oz. 10 lbs & 20 in. via c-section after THIRTY HOURS and FORTY FIVE minutes of labor. My sister is a saint.

He's perfect and precious and I simply could not love him more.

And also? Alex totally got it right:


Sorry it's sideways. FB won't let me rotate it for some reason.

NIEPHEW WATCH: GAME ON!

It's happening! My flight leaves at 4:30. Wait for Aunt Kristi, baby!!!

A Baby Story: The Conclusion.

I think I have completely scared enough of you right out of your ovaries, so I won't give you the blow-by-blow of the recovery process. Let's just say that a C-Section is may-jah (Vicki B. whatup?!) surgery, and when all you want to do is hop right out of bed to rescue your screaming child, it's not the best course of action for healing.

I continue to feel better every day, and my body is almost back to normal. The stretch marks will never go away, but I'll take my friend Jen's advice and look at them as battle scars I can show Alex one day. Hopefully, he will think they are cool.

To close out the L&D story, I'll exit David Letterman style: with a Top 10 List.

Top 10 things to remember as you go into/are in labor:

1. Starting at about 38 weeks, carry a ShamWOW with you everywhere you go...you never know when your water might break!

2. EAT before you go to the hospital. Eat like you've never eaten before. And when they ask you if you would like to supa-size your order, your answer should be, "Eff yes!"

3. Nurses are hit or miss, but be nice to them even if they are notsonice to you, because they truly are the keepers of your fate.

4. If you happen to give birth at a hospital that also has a Ben & Jerry's in the cafeteria, remind your husband and father to NOT go get some for themselves and BRING IT UP TO YOUR ROOM AND EAT IT IN FRONT OF YOU WHILE YOU ARE IN LABOR. Rude.

5. Ask for the mobile heartrate/contraction monitors if your hospital has them. Otherwise, they have to unhook you every time you have to get up or pee. Any time you don't/can't hear the heartbeat is unnerving.

6. When you place your orders for breakfast, lunch and dinner, order extra. Hubby is hungry, too...and you're paying for it...well, insurance is, but whatever.

7. ASK. ASK. ASK. Ask about anything and everything you have questions on. We asked about pumping and I scored a free pump kit out of it. (We had the pump machine...thank you Erin!...but not the cords and actual pumping mechanisms and containers.) You can score lots of stuff while you're a patient, but once they discharge you, the gold mine dries up.

8. To that point, ask for extra hospital undies (they are soooo fancy...haha) to take home with you. Your regular undies will not be your friend for the first few weeks, and those giant, mesh atrocities are COMFY!

9. Since I'm eating breakfast, I'll keep this one to the point: the stuff that comes out of you after you birth a child is gross. Sick-uh-ning. It does not go away for awhile. *cue vomit*

10. I think I've done a pretty good job at keeping this whole experience real for you. But I have to also insert the caveat that childbirth is also wonderful, amazing, incredible, life-changing, and all those other cheesy things that Hallmark oozes. You're life will never, ever be the same...and mostly for the better. :)

A Baby Story: Part 5.

I know, I know. 2 days in a row. I'm spoiling you. Relish in it, kids. Relish.

First, let's wish Mr. Alex a HAPPY ONE MONTH BIRTHDAY! A special post to come later today about that.

Back to hell...

As I was being wheeled off to the OR, I couldn't help but giggle. You only ever see those moments from a birds-eye view on television: the husband tenderly kissing his wife as they glide through double swinging doors, as if it might be the last time they see each other. To experience it firsthand was VERY weird, to say the least.

Joe was not allowed in the OR for the "prep;" he had to sit in the hallway...maybe he will guest post about what it was like to wait out there. Anyway, they wheeled me into the white, sterile room and asked me to get on the operating table.

Girl say WHAT?

I couldn't even feel my legs - how did they expect me to use them to hoist myself onto the adjacent table? Needless to say, I pretty much told them they were reebazons and that they were going to have to use their magical medical skillz to get me to table #2, cause I sure as hell wasn't about to do it on my own.

I was notsogracefully hoisted onto the table and the next few moments flew by. The anesthesiologist started pumping me with more deliciousness, drapes were going up all around me, my arms were tied down like Jesus on the Cross, and I could hear Dr. Long asking the intern if she wanted to perform the surgery. Ahhhh! I understand the need for teaching hospitals, I really do. Everyone has to learn on someone, otherwise we wouldn't have doctors. It's just a little unnerving when they're learning on you.

I started to shiver and shake from all the drugs and kept asking and asking where Joe was. He wasn't allowed to come in until they cut me, so I asked the nurse to hold my hand until he was allowed in. After what seemed like ages, I could hear Joe. He came and sat beside me and the real party began.

Dr. Long coached Miss Intern through the surgery, and warned me right before they were going to take Alex out. I was totally numb at that point, but I could definitely feel the sensation of pressure. It was SO cool. They whizzed him off to the baby station and about 20 seconds later we heard his little cry. Best. Sound. Ever.

At this point I started to feel some SERIOUS pain. Imagine the worst period cramps you've ever had and multiply them times a billion and also set your pubic area on fire; that is about the level of pain I was feeling. I screamed to the anesthesiologist (really sick of typing that word) and she started pumping me with more juice. She said all she had left to give me would give me amnesia, and since I wanted to remember everything, I opted to not get it.

As they were stitching me up, I heard Dr. Long asking Miss Intern why she did this and why she did that. She said she was, "not comfortable" doing whatever kind of stitch he wanted her to do, and he told her she "better get comfortable with it, because next time she might not have the room." Lovely. Just what you want to hear when you're strapped to the table, shaking and shivering in intense pain. Give Dr. Long the scalpel, already!

I was having severe shoulder pain, which is known as referred pain. WOWZA. I was in so, so, so, so, so much pain it was unreal. I begged Joe to stand over me and apply pressure to my shoulders, and it made it a little more bearable. However, this is when they brought Alex over to see us...but since I was once again preferring death, and Joe was so freaked out about me, neither of us actually held him or paid too much attention to his general existence. Sorry, kiddo. We really do love you more than anything. It was just very important at that point that Mommy lived to actually hold you.

They whisked him off to the nursery because his temp was 1 degree off what it should have been. Nothing a little McDonald's-style heat lamp couldn't fix.

Since my innards were so swollen, they had a hard time "putting Humpty back together again" (as Joe so lovingly puts it). But once I was all stapled up, they whisked me off to recovery, where I stayed for about 45 minutes.

Then they wheeled me BACKWARDS up to the postpartum floor. Dear nurses of the world: do not wheel people with a predisposition to motion sickness BACKWARDS. Also, do not forget a barf bucket, because your janitorial staff will not appreciate the mess said patient makes all over your carpeted hallway.

I managed to hurl again after I was hoisted into the postpartum bed. Why can't they just have 1 bed for everything?

After I was in the room about 5 minutes, they brought Alex in. I lovingly cooed to him in my best Momma voice, "Hi, bubba!"

The obviously insane nurse says to me, "Oooh, you named him 'Bubba?'"

Who names their kid 'Bubba'? I just laughed and said, "No. That's my Alex."

A Baby Story: Part 4.

I'm shocked and impressed that you all keep coming back to read my horror story, but thank you for doing so. I swear that I have the will and desire to blog every day, but Alex usually has other plans for me.

I think I described new mommyhood best to my bf, Cait, the other day: It's like being foolishly drunk 24/7, but without the alcohol. You just try to keep your eyes open and survive. It is getting better, though. Me 'n the little man are starting to get a schedule, which is nice.

Ok, enough of that. Back to hell. Where was I? Oh, yes...9:00 am and Joe had just gotten in the shower. Lucky prick.

9:46 a.m. - Kelly B. stopped by and decided to wait on more pain meds. Made me love her a little less. Contractions every four to four and a half minutes. Joy. Rapture.

9:47 a.m. - Checking the who-ha (so funny that he called it that, right? I'll even forgive him on the spelling) to see cervix progress. This again? One cm and much shorter than last time. Progress!!

9:53 a.m. - Calling the doctor to see about starting an epidural. Ohmigod is he on friggin' speed dial? Can we Skype him in to lean out the process?

10:35 a.m. - Epidural in. Thank GOD! And truly, it didn't hurt. The hardest part was staying VERY still while he was inserting the needle...WHILE I was having contractions. Damn near impossible, but we made it. Kristi's sharp pain is almost unnoticeable. She feels VERY itchy though. It was so weird - I could feel the cold rush of fluid going in my body and then I got all tingly. Going to try and get some sleep. The Dr. who gave the epidural was awesome. True story. And, he makes like a trillion dollars a year to stab people. Note to Alex: become an anesthesiologist when you grow up so Mommy and Daddy can retire to Boca Raton.

10:38 a.m. - Kristi puked up some nice green bile. Very smelly. Thanks, honey. I held her hair back for her. Good man. Note to preggos: EAT BEFORE YOU GO TO THE HOSPITAL! It will likely be your last meal for what seems like a lifetime. Better to puke up food than bile. Trust me.

10:43 a.m. - Have had a couple contractions so far and have not felt them. So happy. You're happy, Joe? How do you think I feel? Had it not been for the epidural, I would have danced a dance that would have made Ellen Degeneres herself proud.

11:50 a.m. - Just talked to Dr Long. Kristi gets to eat a bagel. YAY! Foooooooooood! We're hoping to stop the bus at Rochester instead of Clarkston. This was a very weird birth analogy the doc used. It made perfect sense at the time, possibly because I was under the influence. We are basically in labor induction mode.

12:00 p.m. - This is the most delicious bagel in the entire world. True story. I believe I was proclaiming rather loudly that Jesus himself baked it for me. And we found out how catheters work. Best. Invention. Ever. All the fun of peeing with none of the work!

12:15 p.m. - Chucked up the most delicious bagel in the entire world. Oh, it was awful. It tasted like bagel, crap, and grape Jolly Ranchers. Kristi told Kelli to NEVER have sex. I think I actually told her max out the intimacy at high fiving the opposite sex. Maybe some occasional hugging or dry humping, if necessary. Sex = babies = THIS. DON'T DO IT! I remember everyone was laughing at me...quite hysterically...yet I was not kidding.

1:05 p.m. - 2.5 cm dilated. WOOT! We like when nurse Kelly does it instead of the Doctors because she has small hands. Another reason to love her!

1:12 p.m. - Got a bolster to the epidural to help ease the pain. *sings* Hit me with your best shot, fire awaaaaaaaaaay!

2:45 p.m. - Ok, we are kick-starting this party. Starting the pitocin. Hip, hip, horray. If I've learned anything from my hours and hours of TLC, it's that pitocin brings on the baby!!

3:20 p.m. - Four cms, people! YES! YES! YES! Cervix is forward so checking doesn't hurt as much. Um, and that whole epidural thing REALLY helps. Brushed her teeth, washed up (whore's bath) and put in her contacts. Semi-human feeling, not gonna lie.

3:25 p.m. - Contraction pain is in the pubic area. Hoping one more dose of epidural will help ease the pain these next few hours. Give me just enough to take away the pain, stopping just short of killing me. That would be fine, thankyouverymuch.

3:26 p.m. - Doctor Long is on his way to the hospital. All good signs!

This is where Joey's fab Excel spreadsheet ends...and most likely because this is where it all went downhill. Dr. Long arrived to my room about 4:30 p.m. and we filled him in on the last 20 or so hours. He noticed that the external monitors weren't picking up my contractions, so he wanted to put an internal monitor in me. Great, another hand up there.

So, up he goes into my netherregions and it was at that moment I KNEW something was wrong. His eyes got all big and demanded to see the Dr. who examined me at 4 cms. Kelly spoke up and said it was she (her?) who had done the exam, so Dr. Long asked her to exam me again and to tell him if it felt the same as it did when she last checked me. Really? Again?

Her eyes did what his did when she finally got her hand up there, and that was that. Apparently, Alex had been bumping his little noggin on my cervix in a woeful attempt to get the eff out of me. However, his melon was larger than my girlie parts would allow through, so a sort of "trauma" happened to my innards and everything was swollen. Only way to get him out was to do it himself with a scalpel and a surgical mask. And an intern, but we'll get to that later...

Dr. Long gave us the nicest, longest little speech about what was happening with my body and how disappointing it was to have it end this way. No shit, Sherlock. Joe asked when the surgery would be and he said, "Within the half hour."

AHHHHHHHHHHH!

The twenty minutes of surgery prep that followed are mostly a blur. I remember the anesthesiologist coming in and juicing me up, the buzz of the razor (so much for that bikini wax...), and Joe putting on his funny little surgery outfit. Heelarious.

And with that, I was wheeled off to the OR. Stay tuned for the best of the worst!

A Baby Story: Part 3

Yeah, yeah, yeah...I'm still alive. Where were we? Oh yes...checked in to L&D officially.

I was having moderate contractions at this point, and still drug-free. I got my IV inserted (surprisingly, horrifically painful) and got hooked up to the monitors. Note to pregnant ladies: ask for the mobile monitors if your hospital has them. That way, you can still get up and walk around without being attached to those stoopid cords. Even if your room doesn't have them, they can get them for you. Do it!

My peeps came to visit me (Mom, Dad, Kyle, Jill, Susan, John) and left with Kelli around midnight...that's when the fun began.

GOOD LORD, CONTRACTIONS ARE INSANE. You can actually feel them before they happen. Mine started as a wave in my heels and crawled all the way up the back of my legs, through my bunghole and into my ute. Ow, ow, ow. The pain lasted anywhere from 5-20 seconds and I hummed my way through them. Yeah...sorry Madelyn. I didn't use any of your breathing techniques. My instinct kicked in and I just did whatever made me feel better. Humming worked.

Joe managed to fall asleep a little after 1 a.m., and I popped in my iPod to try to get some relaxation/sleep. I know it was all in my head, but the contractions seemed to hurt a little less when he was by my side, so whenever I would start to feel the pain in my heels I would wake him up. And like the great hubby he is, he would hop out of his little rent-a-cot and hold my hand and hum with me through the pain.

Our sing-a-long lasted until about 4 a.m., when my angel (read: nurse) from above, Kelly B., came back in to check on me. I cannot stress enough how incredibly amazing she was. Maybe I even have a little bit of a girl crush on her now. I actually wrote a letter to the administrator of the hospital to tell him how awesome she was. I hope she wins nurse of the month. :)

This is the point where Joe started taking notes. I'll refer to his Excel spreadsheet from here on out, because my memories will involve far too many curse words to keep this blog PG-13. My commentary, per usual, in italics.

4:30 a.m. - Checked cervix. OMG again with the cervix checking. Sunnafuhbitch. Only dilated 1 cm. Eff. Eff. Eff. All this work for 1 friggin' cm?

4:42 a.m. - Started newbane drip. Narcotic. Should last 2 hours and let Kristi sleep. Thank God! Oooohhh druggys make me feely so weirdy. Going sleepy now...

4:48 a.m. - Narcotics seem to be working. Kristi is drifting off to sleep, hopefully for a good 2 hours. Best part of the day.

4:50 a.m. - Kristi is sleeping through her contractions. This is a good thing. WIP is doing well. Sleep. So. Delicious.

6:30 a.m. - Newbane starting to wear off. Contractions every 8 minutes. Next cervix check at 7:30. More drugs, please. Less cervix checking, please.

7:30 a.m. - Cervix not dilated. I hate my life. Thinking about pitocin/more pain management. Stop thinking, start DOING!

8:13 a.m. -Got morphine drip in IV and Kristi is sleeping. Hoping to relax her little body and let the cervix start to relax, too. Oh, Joey...if I wasn't on a billion drugs and wanting to die, I would kiss you for calling my body little.

8:18 a.m. - Dr. Long is a BIG believer in vaginal births and letting the body labor. We're going to be here awhile. His face is now on a dartboard in my basement...I keed, I keed.

8:23 a.m. - REALLY bad contraction. I don't remember this particular one over any other, but I'm sure I hated it.

8:35 a.m. - Morphine drip not working. Kristi's pain getting worse. Got a shot of morphine in the thigh - thinking the IV will work slow and the shot will work fast and they will meet in the middle to manage pain. Yeah...that didn't work.

8:54 a.m. -Doing an ultrasound just to be safe. Actually, it was a stoopid intern that just needed to get his ultrasound hours in. Whatever. Kelly B. almost kicked him out. Love her. In the meantime, Kelli is trying to hook intern's wife up with a teaching job in Troy. You can always count on Kelli to make friends...even while I'm in excruciating pain, preferring death.

8:55 a.m. - Kristi declares her hatred of morphine. I think they really just gave me a shot of sugar water.

8:56 a.m. - Another BIG contraction. Poor baby. Poor me, indeed.

8:57 a.m. - Grandma Joette arrives. Greetings, mom. Tell me again why you opted to do this THREE times!?!

9:00 a.m. - I (Joe) am going to take a shower. My jealousy exists on many levels.

We'll take it from the shower next time. I've got a sleeping baby and a 15 minute window to take MY shower and prepare myself for the day.

A Baby Story: Part 2.

Okokokokok. I've been putting this off long enough. Where did I leave off? Oh yes...we're entering triage...

So they put me in triage room 3, which is funny because 3 and 7 were recurring numbers throughout my pregnancy. And, we recently got his SS card in the mail and the last 6 numbers are all 3s and 7s. So. So. Weird.

Anyway, it took what seemed like an eternity for a nurse to come put me on the monitors and begin to ask me the same billion majillion questions they ask every time. Apparently, April 14 was a very popular day for water breakage in Metro Detroit. An old wives' tale says that water is more prone to break during a rainstorm because of the change in barometric pressure, and it was raining that night...believe what you will.

A nurse finally came, put me on the monitors and interrogated me like I was an ex-con. I even got to put on the fancy hospital gown, which freaked me out slightly because it once again affirmed that I would not be sent home without a child.

Kelli arrived about 20 minutes later in a state of hilarious/frantic excitement. When she pulled the curtain into my little 5x5 space I couldn't tell if she was going to explode from happiness or totally freak out. Turns out, it was all happiness.

An attending stopped by to perform an ultrasound, which we passed with flying colors, and then the nurse came back in to check me.

HOLY. CRAP.

I know I blogged about the cervix checkage awhile back, but there is seriously nothing like it. Why on all the baby shows on TLC/Discovery Health does it look totally painless? Seriously! I've never, ever, ever seen a mom even bat an eye when the doc stuck his ENTIRE ARM up there. They make it look like, "Ooohh, I'm just fishing around in here...you can't feel anything...tra la la la la la." Not. True.

Well, I apparently have a "posterior" cervix, which based on how much the exam freaking hurt must mean that it is located about 900 miles West of Shanghai. WOW. I kid you not when I tell you that the cervical check hurt more than any contraction I had in the 23 hours I was in labor.

She stuck her hand arm up me and started fishing around. I yelped so loud and lifted myself off the table and probably almost hit the ceiling in an attempt to escape the pain. I started crying immediately and was shaking like a leaf. Joe was out in the hallway making some phone calls, so Kelli held me down and talked me out of packing up my belongings and high-tailing it out of there. God bless her.

Due to the "posterior" placement of my cervix, she had to pull her arm out and try again. AGAIN! This time, she had me put my fists under my butt to raise my pelvis and make it easier for her to find my cervix. Because apparently it was playing hide and seek?

Whatever. Pregnant moms, heed this advice: just put your fists under your arse the first time they check you. It will save you so much agony.

She finally found the missing cervix, pulled her hand out and proudly proclaimed, "1 fingertip!"

I wanted to cry again. Seriously? Only 1 fingertip? That's not even a centimeter! It was so, so, so discouraging. But, if Madelyn taught my anything it was to just press on and focus on the baby, not the slow progress. Slow progress is normal...normal...normal...

But what wasn't normal was when I reminded the nurse I was GBS positive and allergic to penicillin (YAY for remembering!). They wanted to call the pharmacy to place the order for the medicine so they could start me on the IV drip as soon as I got up to my room, so she placed a call to Dr. Seltzer to see what the alternative medicine was.

I heard her on the phone with the doc on a few different calls over the course of the next 20 or so minutes. She was being SUPER rude to her from what I could tell, which was rather unsettling. She came in to tell me they were still doing some research on which med would be the best replacement to the penicillin, and it would just be a few more minutes until they could send me to my Labor & Delivery Room.

20 minutes pass...more phone calls to the doc. More rudeness.

Finally, she pulled the curtain on my room and this is honest-to-goodness the conversation that ensued:

Nurse: "Who told you you were GBS positive?"

Me: "Um, my OB." Who do you think, dummy? You think I just made it up for fun?

N: Right, but which one, exactly?

M: Dr. Ohm.

Scuttles back to phone, mumbles something to Dr. Seltzer. Back to my room.

N: Do you have an alternate identity or an alias other than Kristi Van Wormer?

M: Shit, they're on to my superhero identity...I knew I should have taken off the cape and mask! Um, I was Talicska before I was married? Idiots.

N: But you've been married the whole time you were pregnant, right?

M: Firmly. Yes.

N: Ok.

I could tell none of these answers were helping the situation...

She went back to her little phone station and after another 10 minutes FINALLY came back to my room to explain the insanity that just occurred. Apparently, I was in the hospital computers as "Christina" Van Wormer (instead of Kristina) so they couldn't find my name to order the right meds to my account. Hilarious, no? Yeah...it wasn't for me, either.

So at about 9 pm I was finally admitted to the Labor & Delivery Room. It was so surreal walking in there, seeing all of the monitors and the baby cart and the birthing ball and my bed...little did I know that I would not be delivering in that room after all...

I know I said this post would be from triage to epidural, but I am a long storyteller. So, this snippet ends here. Next time we'll review from L&D check-in to epidural. Smooches!

A Baby Story: Part 1.

I've decided to make this a little less overwhelming and break it up into sections. This particular excerpt will highlight water breakage to triage check-in.

Tuesday, April 14 was my first day off work. You might remember that I planned a leisurely week-ish off work prior to my due date to enjoy some much-needed "me" time. Weeeeeeeell, Alex obviously had other plans for Mommy.

It was a grand day. I slept in, watched some ellen (now programmed on DVR, thankyouverymuch) and then had a friend over to visit and practice her makeup for her wedding day...which is seriously right around the corner!

She left about 4 pm, so I klassed myself up and headed to Wal-Mart to gather some groceries for the week. There's truly nothing like a mid-afternoon Wally World run. I could dedicate an entire post to the types of creatures that come out that time of day. Yipes!

I digress.

I got home about 5:30 (entered the checkout line at 4:45 if that tells you anything...we live 2 minutes away). Joe got home from work about 6ish and we just chilled for awhile. As wife of the year, I spent all day slaving over dinner (frozen pizza) and popped it in the oven about 6:45. When the timer went off, I asked Joe to get the pizza out of the oven while I peed. I actually forgot about all my crazy trips to the bathroom until now...cool.

I did my biz-nass and headed to the kitchen to get some cheesy deliciousness. But about 2 steps out of the bathroom I felt a crazy warm sensation in my pants. Oh, Kristi. This is so embarrassing. You JUST went. Did you seriously pee your pants?

Silently, I kicked it in reverse and hopped back on the toilet to asses the situation. Holy shit. This is not pee.

I screamed at decibel 100 to Joe (which was slightly unnecessary since the kitchen is honestly 10 feet from the bathroom), "JOE, MY WATER JUST BROKE AND I AM NOT SHITTING YOU!" Threw in that last part in case he thought I was jesting.

He screamed like a girl, dropped the pizza and ran to the bathroom. I was laughing hysterically at this point because I was oozing warmness out of my girlie parts uncontrollably. Seriously, no one tells you this. Your water doesn't "break." No. That makes it sound like a one-shot deal. It OOZES for hours and hours and hours and is gross, gross, gross.

I had Joe grab the "who to call when your water breaks/you go into labor/something else baby-related happens" sheet of paper and dialed the OB from the toilet. As expected, she told me to get myself to triage ASAP. Breathe in. Breathe out. No turning back now. Once your water breaks they do NOT send you home from the hospital without a baby. Ahhhhhh screaming on the inside. Ok. And the outside too.

I put on a pad and scampered around the house to get all the last minute things together. What? I thought I was going to have at least a week to accomplish all these things! By the time we got in the car (felt like an hour, was probably 10 minutes), I had soaked through about 7 pads. The super-duper absorbent ones. Joe grabbed me a towel to sit on in the car and we were off!

It is at this point in my post I would like to implore Jennifer Granholm to consider funding a road repair project for 14 Mile Road from Warren to Royal Oak. Every single bump (roughly eleventy billion) made more oozing occur. Ew. Ew. Ew. Really wish someone had warned me about this.

It should also be noted that it was during this ride that we called and texted friends and family to alert them of the situation. The same, "My water broke and I'm not shitting you," verbiage was used. Oh, and Mom and Dad? Way to pick up on the SIXTH time I called you. :)

ETA: Joe just reminded me that I forgot to add the part about how we GOT LOST in the hospital parking lot. The place is under construction, so everything is a one way or a no way. What's funny is that we'd been there THREE times already (tour, triage trip #1, triage trip #2...which was the DAY BEFORE). There is only one drive that gets you to the parking deck, and one drive that takes you to valet. We couldn't find the valet one to save our souls. After a few minutes of laughing hysterically (causing further oozage) and turning down every. single. street. We finally found it!

We valeted the car (greatest service on Earth) and I waddled up to the 3rd floor. Well, not before stopping in 2 bathrooms to replace my pad...again.

We filled out all the paperwork and the nice lady at the check-in table encouraged us to have a seat in the waiting room.

"Ummm, pretty sure you don't want me to sit on your chairs, lady."

And so, I sat on the toilet in the one-seater public restroom outside triage, oozing for 10 minutes until the nurse came for me. Joe knocked on the door to let me know they were ready...so I pulled up my britches and flushed the toilet for the last time as a pregnant woman. (Yay for catheters.)

Next up: from triage to epidural. That's gonna be a looooooong one.