Once upon a time, a long time ago, ok, not that long, but almost 29 years ago, I was pregnant with my first child. I remember being so excited to go to our prenatal classes. The one thing I remember the most was the teacher telling us, "when you are in your 9th month, and you are going grocery shopping, be sure the first thing you put in your basket is a jar of pickles. That way, if your water breaks, you can drop the pickles on the floor and no one will be the wiser". OMG, that cracked me up.
One night, I had this dream. I was at the grocery store. Walking around, with my huge belly. All of the sudden, my water broke. OH NO. I forgot to get the jar of pickles. I hurry over to the pickle aisle and grab a jar, run back to where the water broke and dropped the jar. But wait. What are these strange feelings I'm having. Oh, help me. I'm going into labor. Right in the grocery store. I'm not going to make it to the hospital. Oh dear, my son is coming (yup, I was sure I was having a boy because this baby was sooo rumbustious, it just had to be a future Hall-of-Famer). Push, push, out comes the boy. I'm thinking to myself. I need to weigh this kid, because the hospital is going to want to know. So what do I do, I head right on up to the checkout line, and the girl checker takes the baby from me, and puts him ever so gently on the fruit and vegetable scale. Yup, my firstborn child is being weighed like vegetables. And then I woke up.
At the 2 weeks after my due date, because remember, this was back in the olden days when they didn't induce you until you were, oh, 3 or 4 weeks late. And when they did induce you, they didn't give you an epidural until you were dilated to at least a 3. And when they induce you, you are in full blown hard labor. Sorry, got sidetracked remembering. One night, I woke up with that feeling of I need to pee. Rolled off the bed, and whammo, my water broke. (my dream, my dream, at least it wasn't in the store).
Headed to the hospital, and was in labor for so long that the nurse that was on duty when I got there, was just coming back on shift when I finally gave birth. Again, olden days, was wheeled to the "delivery room", made ready, given some shot, promptly threw up, and started the push, push and out SHE came. Yup. I said she. And she was soooo beautiful.
(Sorry about the pen mark on the picture)
So there you have it. All except the part when I was in the recovery room, my dear sweet hubby comes over to me, kisses me and said,
"That was fun, let's do it again"
If it hadn't have been an 18 hour labor and I was exhausted, I would have reached up and hit him.
But I still love that man-o-mine.