Saturday, November 19th, my water broke..... in the middle of a pizza joint. I made it to the bathroom and to the toilet (thank you, kegel!) before any major leakage, but then realized as the water continued to flow that I had no idea how the hell I was going to get OUT of the bathroom and to the hospital. I made it, with much clenching and praying.... and toilet paper.
Got to the hospital, went through labor sans epidural (ouch), and ended up having to have the HypnoSpawn vacuumed out of me. My doc's words when describing the vacuum procedure: "I'm not going to sugar coat it, it's going to feel like I'm putting the baby back into you."
'Go for it', says I, riding the hell out of those endorphins and screaming profanity to rival a fleet of sailors. Three layers of stitches later and several offers for Vicodin for the pain, and I was in the room and holding the lil spawn. Happy to say I got through the aftermath with a few ice packs and some Motrin.
We dropped by our neighbor's to show off the lil spawn, and she asked who the doc was that delivered the bebbe. Then she went on to let us know how great he is and how he's a member of her church and helps out with charities, etc. and all I could think of was the number of times I dropped the f*bomb in the course of labor. Then I wondered if I should send an apology card to the maternity ward at the hospital after that, cuz I had to have made some ears bleed.
The sort of funny part in all of this is that I haven't slept as good as the night I was in labor....
Spent the majority of today sampling music I had played for the lil one while he was in utero, and happy to say he still likes the music.