Part I: The "Labor"

So I didn't really ever go into labor. It was Monday night, and I was feeling really nauseous, something I thought was pretty normal, but by bedtime it had gotten so bad I couldn't lie down and get comfortable. My husband suggested we page the OB on call at my practitioners office, and the on call OB said "Go to the hospital". So we did. No sooner did we leave our street but the motion of the car made me sicker and I threw up all over myself. Lovely. Brand new car, too, so of course I kept it on myself and not the interior. Hair can be washed. I'm not driving a vomit mobile for the next 13 years.

We got to the hospital shortly after. I tried to rinse the vomit off myself, but then I got sick again. Very counterproductive. I ended up throwing up five times before it stopped the next day, but before that could happen, I had to be examined and hooked up to those stupid belly-band monitors that the elastic around your abdomen and the baby gets annoyed at and kicks off. Repeatedly. Then they gave me a pheneragan shot, and put me and the baby right to sleep. So of course the baby's kicks stopped and her heart rate mellowed and then they decided that since her heart rate was "flat" it would be best to not let me leave until she livened up a bit. Minutes turned to hours. Hours turned to Tuesday morning. Tuesday morning I got an ultrasound to measure the amniotic fluid, and it was determined that a C-section was necessary to protect me and the baby. And that's where the "fun" began...