Quarter of a Century ago (warning, boring birth story coming)

This little boy was born. It was a chilly morning at the end of November. We had been doing a lot of walking, because that's what pregnant women like to do along with eating super spicy pizza, in the hopes that one of those old wives tales will actually work for them and get this whole whale episode of life over. Most women, after being pregnant for 9 months or more are REALLY ready to deal with labor, just for the ability to put those baby pounds down in an infant seat for an hour or so. I can't recall anyone that I knew wishing they could stay pregnant "just a little longer".

Anyway, I felt some contractions around noon, but didn't think much of it. They became regular around 6-8 pm and we alerted my sister, who was going to lend some support to this whole process, but we stayed home. And DH went to sleep. I still marvel at that. There was no sleep for me, however, and I just sat there all night timing those crazy sqeezy things happening to me. It took FOREVER for them to get closer than 5 minutes apart.

Went to the hospital finally around 5:30 am, after asking DH to please wake up. Nurse's name was Mony. ("Moan-y") She had a cohort, but all I can remember is that we called her Groan-y. I'm sure she had another name, but I sure don't remember it. We had our sack of important things, and we pulled the backgammon game out to pass some time. Moany and Groany decided that if I was comfortable enough to play backgammon, I was too comfortable to be there. OK - so I'm supposed to make noise or cry, or MOAN and GROAN??? (ha ha...) We were suitably chastised and put the damn game away. One or both of them attached the monitor and decided that I wasn't kidding about having contractions, so they let me stay. Back then, it was the thing to have "natural" childbirth - no drugs, no epidural, just really good lamaze techniques. So I focused on something, did my breathing, whatever and finally decided I would really appreciate one of those pain shots they'd offered me 20 times and my DH had politely and then not-so-politely refused. (at my request made when I was several days or maybe weeks pre-labor, so should never have been listened to, I should add...). Turns out they decided it was too close to delivery now, so no, you can't have anything anymore. What kind of logic is that? Am I going to pass it to my baby MORE right before I give birth than I would have a couple of hours prior?
So, after some pleading on my part, I got "1/2 a shot". Honey, a shot is a shot. But the 1/2 part is probably to be believed, because there was absolutely NO RELIEF from the damn thing. Really totally not worth the pain of the shot.

At 12:35 pm, our firstborn, M, joined the world. Bullet headed, but still obviously the most beautiful baby ever born. We got lucky and got the "family birthing center" so that all of us could stay together all night. (I really loved that part.) And the next day, we all went home. Again, back in the day of 24 hour stays. I liked that part too, I may be a nurse, but I truly hate hospitals and will always opt to go home early. I am a really crappy patient. Because I know best and I know that I know best. I'm quite sure it's mutual - they're pretty happy to see me gone, too.

Thus starts the next 25 years of joy, wonder, and a whole lot more than a few challenging times. But that's another post.

Happy Birthday, M. We love you.