It is 3am on Feb 16, Fri. Jo calmly announces "I think I am having contractions". Nicolle arrives shortly after. We sit around in the living room with our shoes on, and measure contraction times, and wait. Jo contracts. I time. Cole writes. Abe sleeps. At 7:30am, we are in rush-hour traffic. By 8am, Jo is in a very flimsy gown and on a delivery room bed at Brack.
Everyone is having a baby that morning. It is almost noon before Dr. Nix can check Jo. By then, she is 5 cm dilated (by the way, why metric, why there?). We cheer and high-five. During the exam, Jo's water breaks. Suddenly, the room is full of all kinds of delivery-oriented paraphernalia and nurses. The fear of Braxton Hicks subsides. This is the real thing, they say.
Stacey shows up with lunch - subs and every conceivable flavor of potato chips. We tuck in. Jo eats more ice-chips. The contractions kept their end of the bargain up. Jo decides to get an epidural. It takes a couple of anesthesiologists to get it right. What contractions?
When Jo is at 7cm, Nurse Abby calls Dr. Z at home, who is catching a few zzz's after a night at the hospital. By 7pm, she is a full 10 and +1 station. Nursing shift changes. We lament that we will miss Nurse Shannon's audio-visual pushing clinic. But Michelle, her new nurse, is no push-over, especially if push comes to shove. OK - so you can tell where I am going with this.
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