Last Thursday night I heard Laura and Yuula coming up the stairs, too early for bed, too late for a bath, could only mean one thing...
Sorry, no adventures to report this time. The snow storms had passed, we dropped Yuula at the Buttermilk's without a fuss. The ride to the hospital was calm and quiet. We arrived and walked in together, slowly, patiently, like we'd been there, even tho we hadn't. We were wheeled and walked up to the laboring rooms, which seemed like a ghost town, but had the definite stink of silent suffering behind every door. We were kind to oblige.
Things slow at first, hooking up machines and monitors and the dreaded IV, which just pissed Laura off. These were all "luxuries" we avoided the first time around because Yuula was in such a hurry to see daylight. Baby boy was taking his time, enjoying his last few fleeting moments in utero and, now that we know him a little more, probably catching a few more z's before making the trip. So we were told to walk, but not go home. So we walked. Across the street to WaWa and got dinner.
My turkey on rye wasn't gone but for a moment when we felt the first real pains and then Laura made this face and we were moved to an actual birthing room. So much moving around seemed redundant, but I'm thinking they do it to keep the dads-to-be busy and not get into trouble. There's lots of fun stuff just laying around that are all so tempting.
The nurse showed us Birthing Room B, which was empty and said "this is my favorite room, we all like it the best", and then pointed to the next room down the hall, Birthing Room A, and told us that was our room. In my head I was calculating all the superfluous information we were being given for a later date and potential conversation pieces for what could be a long night of husbandly diversion tactics. The effort would be unfounded.
At around midnight I remember a rapid-fire conversation between Laura, Andrea (our midwife) and Andrea (our nurse) (potential confusion), of which the both terminology and overall demeanor were foreign to me, so I turned my attention to the television where the Flaming Lips and Sean Lennon were performed what I later found out to be a cover of Lucy in The Sky With Diamonds because the sound was off, and good thing...
From there it was kind of a blur. Laura's contractions were getting pretty strong and frequent and she made a few new faces I had never seen on her before. Someday I'll return the favor. Then she created some new wrestling holds with my arms and head that would make any avid Twister fan jealous. I know our pain was incomparable, but I also know mine has gone completely under-appreciated. Right around 2am there was an infomercial on the unattended television hanging off the wall and I noticed it was selling a special mechanism to help people lose their belly weight. I found that ironic, but didn't dare to share it with anyone at that moment. Laura was told to restrain from pushing until she could no longer take it, until she felt "the World coming out of her". Speak of the Devil, because the World showed up just moments later.
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