It seems as though everyone should have picked Feb. 19 in the baby pool. We've been here at Martin Memorial since 5 a.m. when Melissa couldn't take it anymore and decided she needed to have someone confirm that she was, indeed, suffering through the beginnings of labor. After an entire night of contractions and kneeling in front of the toilet and everything else labor includes, she just needed confirmation.
Her contractions were 3 to 6 minutes apart and they told her go "out to walk for an hour". That's hospital-speak for there's nothing we can do, and you may as well go home, but we're not going to tell you to go home. So, she put on her clothes to go walk and her water immediately broke. If anyone ever asks what it sounds like when your water breaks, it goes something like this: Oh Shit.
She was admitted and we got the whole labor experience, complete with contractions strong enough to bring tears to her eyes, fingernail marks in my arm and even a short bath. Nothing worked. And Melissa was a very unhappy camper.
Then the doctor showed up at 9:30, decided she was 4 cm and allowed her to have the epidural. That, too, brought tears to her eyes, even though they were very different kinds of tears. Joy filled the room!
I got to leave for 30 minutes while they set up the epidural, so I walked downtown and got some iced tea. When I got back to the room, Melissa was a totally different person. I mean, she was NICE!! She was smiley. Talkative. Personable. I think we should ALL get epidurals at least once a week. I'm thinking peace in the Middle East kind of stuff. And, judging by what I'v seen this morning, that's well within reach.
It's now 12:36 p.m. and she is 9/10 of the way there. Snoring through contractions and now eating Lemon Ice while half of Central Florida rushes to be at her side. Lots of family headed this way.
It's gonna be an interesting afternoon. You'll thank me for not posting any pictures with this blog.
Keep you posted...
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