I awaken to a "feeling" -nothing strong, but enough to pull me out of a midsummer night's sleep. I look at the time and wait. Another "feeling" comes along 12 minutes later. I time three all together while pondering what is about to happen over the next 24 hours. After awhile Patrick awakens, he asks me if all is well. I tell him that my labor has begun and that the baby will be here by tomorrow. I'm not sure why I feel that this is it and not just false labor. I put it down to a primal female awareness. I get out of bed feeling very excited.

August 13. afternoon

Patrick has to work today. I tell him to go in, this baby is not going to arrive until TOMORROW -I can just feel it. Nesting has progressed to mammoth proportions. The tightenings have advanced to every 7 to 10 minutes. I keep busy all afternoon putting everything in its place, and with Patrick at work I have nothing to distract me. I putter about with confidence that all is well, and that I still have a ways to go. I call my labor coach (and best friend) and tell her to plan on staying the night at my house. "This is it," I tell her. I keep waiting to see the telltale plug and show every time I go to the bathroom.

By 1900 hours my contractions have progressed to a regular seven minutes apart. I call my sister in Whistler. She is excited. Shortly after that, Patrick arrives home and we have a quiet supper. We spend the evening blissfully aware with each contraction how our life is about to change and blissfully ignorant as to how the labor will proceed. Patrick heads off to bed at around 2300 hours. He'll need the sleep if it turns out to be (EEEK!!!) a long labor. I stay up waiting for Angie to arrive, which she does at 2330 hours. We are both tickled pink by the events about to unfold. We begin to time the length of the contractions (45 secs). By 0200 hours I can feel them get so strong that I now have to walk about. Angie heads off to bed and so do I, though I'm too excited to sleep.

August 14, 0430 hours, Monday

By this time I can no longer doze, so I head for the shower. The contractions are definitely closer and gripping me totally. The shower brings me relief. I try to keep my thoughts in the present and try not to imagine how much stronger they could be. I hear Patrick get up and head for the kitchen to brew the first pot of coffee of the day. After getting out of the shower and dressing, I have Patrick rub my back during the contractions to ease the pressure and pain -it works for now. Angie has woken and enters the living room during my latest contraction. We make light of the situation and have a laugh -we are all feeling comfortable with the events thus far.

0630 hours

I've called the hospital to acquaint them with my situation. Seeing as I can no longer talk through the contractions they tell me to come in for assessment. So, off we go, piling into the car, a '79 Buick. The back seat has lots of room for me to "do my thing." This is probably one of the only times I don't wear my seat belt. Patrick and I are dropped off at the E.R. of the hosptial, and we make our way to the L&D ward. It's a long walk there, but we make it. Upon arriving I encounter a nurse who I had graduated with a year ago. She ushers us into a room, places the monitors on me and begins to do "hospital stuff' on the computer. She leaves, stating that she will check to see if she can get me some pain relief. We have arrived at shift change so we have to wait for a day nurse to assess me. When she arrives, she checks me and assesses that fm at 2 cm and the cervix is still very posterior. As well, I'm told that my contractions are still far apart (3 to 5 mins).

I'm given "permission" to get in the shower while she phones my on-call doctor to get instructions. I stay in the shower for a bit but find the spray very weak and ineffectual for providing relief of the discomfort. I get out and dry off. The nurse returns then to tell me that the doctor has instructed them to send me home, but that she would like to get another monitor tracing before I go. She tells me that I have to be still or the monitor won't trace properly. Unfortunately for her, that is impossible on my part. Even though the contractions are very consuming, I'm still quite comfortable between and can talk and joke around. After the monitors are off I get off the bed only to have my waters break and flood the floor. What a weird feeling. Angie helps me to dress and we all head back home. I feel weird leaving the hospital when my contractions are so strong. On the way home (a 15-minute drive) Angie times six contractions.

0900 hours

Upon entering the apartment I head for the welcome relief of my own powerful shower. AHHHH! relief. I'm not in the shower very long before the contractions have me on my hands and knees. Assisted by Patrick and Angie I head for the bed, getting on hands and knees, swaying my hips between contractions (the nurse stated that this would help decrease back pressure by turning a posterior baby). Time has begun to stand still and the contractions seem to never end. I begin to pray for relief, asking God to help me persevere, I'm beginning to get so tired. Shortly after my prayer, I head for the bathroom to sit on the toilet, hoping that it will help to speed things along. Moments after sitting down I begin to grunt, and it feels wonderful!!!! I'm not sure what is happening, but I can feel my mind begin to clear, I CAN THINK AGAIN!!! I get back on the bed, the next contraction hits, I push, the pain is less, pushing feels good. I tell Patrick and Angie "I have to push." Angie tells me that it is a natural feeling, but that I shouldn't push. Another contraction hits, and I try not to push (not an easy task). I decide to put my L&D nursing to practice and check myself during the next contraction. When it comes, I reach down. I can feel the head. I tell this to Angie. She doesn't believe me. So during the next contraction I lie down, legs apart, so she can visually check. I hear the words "Oh my God, you're bulging!" She calls the hospital to tell them that we are on our way back. The time is 1045 hours.

1103 hours

Patrick's parking stub is stamped and Angie and I are walking through the main lobby of the hospital (looking quite the sight I'm sure). I walk to the elevator and down the LONG hallway to the nurse’s station, my desire to push never abating since leaving the apartment. I'm directed to a room by the nurse on computer duty. Angie tells her what's been happening, and I inform her of my great desire to push. Upon getting me on a bed the nurse states "well you should -there is the baby's head. Patrick arrives, and the nurse tells him to "grab a leg and hold on." Patrick's humorous remark in return is (and I quote) "I'm here to hold her hand not her leg!" I push. feeling the "ring of fire" that Angie has told me about. It only takes three pushes to get the head born, a short rest and the shoulder emerges followed by a sensation that I could only acquaint as "peeing spaghetti." We are told that we have a male child while they suction and cut the cord (we are not asked if either myself &r Patrick would like the honor of doing it). Another nurse has arrived on the scene and helps to take Paul Joseph to the warmer to warm. dry and assess him. Patrick and I hug and kiss with joy and elation. About two minutes after the birth, two residents come screeching into the room (they remind me of two of the three stooges). I can see them assessing the situation as that of an undelivered placenta and the possibility of suturing (oh boy. oh boy. oh boy), and not that of a newly born family needing to be left alone and free from unnecessary interventions. One of them settles down between my legs to await the placenta's arrival. I can feel a slight tugging at my insides. "Stop pulling on that!" I tell the eager resident. She looks at me with surprise and instantly the tugging stops.