So yesterday morning..I woke up..and thought..Saturday. Great. Usual, you know? A run, some breakfast, grocery shopping, clean the place up a little..play SL..maybe make some steak before heading out for some St. Patty's weekend wickedness at the local bar.
And then.
My sister called.
You see, my sister's having a baby. She's due on the 23rd. And on Thursday, her doctor told her..no baby today, tomorrow..or this weekend.
So, my parents took her son, and they all went shopping at the Shore. 23 minutes before she called.
She said she was having pain. And could I stay with her.
Sure. What the heck? I could make my steak there too. LOL
I get there and her husband's bugging out. She's spotting..and there's blood..and oh my god there are contractions? Or is it gas? See..last time, her labor was induced and she was heavily medicated. She didn't know WHAT contractions felt like..and hell if I could tell her! We time the so-called contractions. Every four to six minutes.
So..I convince her to call her doctor. He tells her to get to the hospital.
Okay, hello? This can't happen. *I* am not good in a medical crisis. And yes, this IS natural..but it's a crisis to me!
Okay, I put on my big girl underpants and stepped up.
While he drove down the streets like a lunatic and I sat in the backseat with her - holding her hands through the contractions and catching the stuff she threw at him before it connected with the back of his head.
So we get to the hospital, he goes to park, I take her in, take her up to maternity, get her examined, get the green light from the resident that she's having the baby today (yeah, he's still parking) and help her get settled into her room.
I run outside, make a ton of quick phone calls, the worst of which being to my parents - who instantly freak out. Unfortunately, my dad's knee isn't good enough to make the 2 hour drive back. And she's already 5 cm dilated. It should be any minute now.
ROFL!
Right.
10 hours later..
She's ready. Time to push.
Doc wheels in a table and uncovers it.
Whoa, whoa, whoa.
We delivering a baby..or torturing prisoners of war?
A table of scissors..and..other..things.
And I feel woozy.
Okay, be brave.
Okay..pushpushpush..
A head!
YES!
Oh..that's a lot of blood there..
And..
Oh..my good lord..
WAIT !
It has shoulders!
YES!
Oh god..
That's..so gross.
That's not blood..but..what IS it?
And it's a girl! She's crying!
And really bloody.
And gunky.
WTF?!
Okay.
I love kids.
But.
I'm SO adopting.
:) Worth it all, I suppose - in the end.
Just REALLY gross. Welcome Baby Sonia.

:) There's already a box of new clothes waiting for her along with a pair of Tiffany heart stud earrings.
Her journey was equally as gross, I imagine, therefore she deserves a consolation prize. :)
Until next time,
B














