This can't be MY daughter... She's on time!!

Well, well. Daddy did a great job of recounting the events of the day, but I figure I'll add the mother's perspective. Paul and I fully expected Scarlett to follow in our footsteps and arrive late. Paul made appointments for Monday and I fully planned to be working on a tech report. Further evidence of our cockiness in this regard were our weekend plans. We had a full day of running errands on Saturday, followed by my dinner plans with Tina, and our scheduled date to meet my new baby cousin Eve and have lunch with her parents (Dan & Ruth) on Sunday at noon.

We got through all of our Saturday plans. I had a lovely (and rich) dinner at Brasserie Beck with Tina Saturday night. Once I got home, I joined Paul in assembling the spinach lasagna and then I set off in what can only be described as an instinctual nesting ritual. Now, I've been known to fixate on some odd details (e.g., huge pet peeve is leaving cabinet doors open) but lately I've had what can only be described as an obsession with the cleanliness of the walls and baseboards in our house. I finally set to task on them, along with the hall closet and the bathrooms. We're talking hands and knees, full out scrubbing.

At about 12:45 AM I was suddenly stricken with exhaustion and decided I better lay down. I was feeling pressure in my pelvis and thought I might have overdone it a bit. I bid goodnight to my husband who was still diligently slaving in the kitchen and tried to head to bed. Around 2 AM I woke up feeling what seemed like it could be a contraction, but I wasn't convinced because theyd been described to me as coming from your back and wrapping around your stomach. These were completely localized to my pelvis. I tried to go back to sleepto see how things played out. As Paul said, by the time he crawled into bed 45 miutes later, I was still unsure, but my suspicion that we might be meeting Scarlett soon was definitely growing.

Throughout the night the contractions got more intense (practicing my breathing, squeezing the snoogle or nearby cat and trying to stay relaxed) and were definitey occuring at regular intervals. At 3:30 AM I decided I better try to get a rough estimate of how far apart they were, so I started timing them on the alarm clock and they were about 10 minutes apart. In the birthing class they said to wait until they were 5 minutes apart to go to the hospital and I didn't have the heart to wake Paul after 45 minutes of sleep. This was also self-serving of course, because I wanted him to stay awake through what I expected to be a long birthing process. I continued to breath through the contractions as quietly as possible and tried to rest between, realizing that it might be a long day ahead.

By 7 AM, I knew we were in trouble. There were additional signs that I was in full blown labor and what had been 10 minutes intevals had become 6 minute intervals by my rough alarm clock estimation. I figured 4 hours of sleep was as good as daddy was going to do under the circumstances so I finally woke him up. He was up and moving quickly, but lacked the same sense of urgency I was getting more of with every contraction. Harder, closer together. Still not terrible by any means though... I could breath through them farily easily and walked around to ease the pain. By the time we left the house, I was close to panic because I was getting the sense this wasn't the 18 hour early labor that had been described to us.

I won't recount all the details of the labor again, but I would like to add how great Paul was as a coach! Other than saying that he knew I was in pain but this was exciting (wait until the contraction is over to say anything positive), he managed to not annoy me at all and was perfect. Very supportive and avoided barking instructions at me. He kept saying how amazing I was and how great I was doing and actually made me feel like it was sincere. He didn't complain about me squeezing him to death as the intensity of the contractions increased either. Once she was with us he handed me a little white jewlery box -- a beautiful silver necklace with a mother and child and three diamonds to represent the three members of our newly expended family. I don't know if it is possible to feel any more lucky/blessed than I did that moment. A healthy, beautiful daughter and a doting and loving husband. It was as perfect as it could have been without the aid of an epidural. :)

On the note of the drugs... I'd planned to try to go au naturale, leaving the door open to change my mind once reality set in. As Paul described, I was really only in unbearable pain for 30-45 minutes. I'd like to commend myself on the bravery of refusing the epidural, but most of it can be attributed to my stubborn streak and Scarlett being unstoppable. All in all, I think it worked out for the best because my happy hormones must have quickly made the pain seem like a distant and inconsequential memory.

All I can say is that I am grateful for the short labor (I won't say quick and easy because I think the easy part would be an overstatement -- I did want to kill the nurse when there was an empty tape roll in my bed during transition contractions) and I hope that my Jacy has a similar fate in store.

One other thing -- the staff at VHC have been awesome. It feels more like a hotel than a hospital most of the time because they are so service oriented. Can we get you anything? Fill your ice water? Take the baby away so you can nap? We had a special celebratory meal with sparkling cider and they are very careful not to disturb us when it is inconvenient. A great experience so far all around!