So, here it is: the labor story. Only because you asked.
I started having contractions Sunday night(July 13)... every 10-15 minutes or so, so I hit the hay to catch a couple hours of sleep and woke up at 2 am on Monday the 14th with stronger contractions every 5-8 minutes. We left for the hospital around 5:35 am, at which time my contractions were every 2-5 minutes. Checked in at the hospital at 6:00 am and was so ridiculously furious, frustrated and embarrassed when I was only dilated to a 1.5!! I thought for sure they'd send me home. I was ticked. Why do they say to go to the hospital when your contractions are [insert number here]?? Rude. Anyway, they called the docs and had me walk around for an hour. I walked up and down the same corridor like a huge waddling penguin crying that I was going to have to be pregnant any longer and go home and yada yada. Dave tried to sleep on a bench and my mom walked with me, ever so patient with my sour attitude and demeanor. At the end of the corridor, there was a circle design in the tile-- that part was the most fun-- to walk around the circle! Woo hoo!
After my walk I was dilated to a 3 and was admitted. Thank heaven! That really lifted my spirits. It was really nice to get out the of ghetto "observation" room into a less ghetto room where I would spend the next million hours in labor and delivery. I think the doc came and broke my water around 3:00 or 3:30 pm, and I hung in there for another hour or so, had one contraction that lasted like 2.5 minutes and totally broke me. At that point I was only dilated to a 4 and I threw in the towel and got an epidural around 4:00 or 4:30 pm, I think. I felt pretty sad and defeated as my initial goal was to go as natural as possible. The epidural was the only drug I had. I had decided I would go all or nothing, and stay away from IV drugs. After all those hours and all those wretched contractions and to only be dilated to a 4? One more reason I wasn't born as a pioneer, I guess. After I got the epidural, I had a "hot spot" where I could still feel the contractions, so they gave me more juice which made it so I could not feel my legs AT ALL. I couldn't wiggle my toes or anything. I really didn't like that part, but I guess you have to choose your battles, eh? They put me on some pitocin to get things going and I took a nap. Around 8pm or so, the epidural was wearing off and I could feel the contractions again. It was so horrible to have to feel it again after being relieved! At that point the doc came in to see where I was at-- if it was time to start pushing or if I needed more juice, and it was time to start pushing. There is no way the epidural had
really worn off. I don't want to know how bad those contractions would have hurt without being masked by drugs. So, anyway, I think I started pushing around 8:15 or 8:20 pm and Miles was born at 9:10 pm after forceps and a tear from point A to point B on me.... if you know what I mean. He had pooped in the womb, so there was lots of unpleasant talk by the doc and nurses, like "hot placenta," "infection," "fever," "get this baby out." They had me lay flat on my back which I hated because I was having some awesome heart burn from the water I drank that day and the couple popsicles I ate. I also hated it because I couldn't see anything and it was hard to push like that (before I was flat on my back I had a mirror). Since there was meconium, Dave didn't get to cut the cord and Miles was passed right off to the nurses as soon as he was out. He was all wiped down, swaddled and in a hat by the time I got to hold him. I was amazed at how calm he was and he looked so nice. His eyes weren't super puffy and he didn't look like he'd been all squished in a birth canal. This is when I first held him:
After he was delivered, the doc told me, "You have a 4th degree laceration. I'm stitching you up in layers. Right now, I'm repairing your sphincter." Yowza. Not something I really care to hear ever again. I do wish I could have seen what it looked like, though. My mom said it looked like I sat on a food processor and Dave said it looked like the thing on the movie "Tremors" when they blow it's head off or whatever. Sorry to paint a picture.
So, anyway, if I only count from 2 am on, it was only 19 hours. I've heard of much worse! And, of course, I would do it again.
Miles' stump finally came off when he was just a few days shy of 8 weeks old. This was one of his first real baths without the raunchy thing. You can see the little leftover ring of silver nitrate on his belly. It was gross and we are glad it's over--he loves his bath. 
