Saying my labor and delivery was not normal and uneventful was a bit of an overstatement.

Ok, a lot of an overstatement.

I don't think I could have asked for an easier labor and delivery.  And I feel incredibly lucky to be able to look back on the birth of Kadyn and have nothing but happy and content thoughts.

No thanks to my husband.

But I'm getting ahead of myself.

First of all, I gained EIGHTY pounds with this boy.

EIGHTY.

I was D.O.N.E with this pregnancy FAR before the end.

Not only was my doctor was ignoring my pleas for induction, he was also leaving the country to cruise the Pacific right around the time I was due.

I tried to convince my doctor to induce me before he left.

No go.

My due date came and went without so much as a flutter.

At my last prenatal appointment, NOTHING was happening.

NOTHING.

He scheduled an induction for the following week, on the first Monday after he returned from his cruise.

Later that day I started feeling things.

I got excited - this baby is coming!

Tuesday came and went.

Wednesday came and went.

Thursday came and (almost) went.

I'd been having contractions on and off all three days but nothing regular or even remotely intense.

Sure that SOMETHING had to be happening, we went to the hospital around 11 pm Thursday night. 

Rookie mistake.

My contractions were getting stronger but only barely. 

Just enough to make me incredibly uncomfortable and keep me from the few minutes of sleep I was barely able to get being an extremely uncomfortable almost 200 pounds.

The nurses told me to go home, get some sleep and come back when something actually happened.

BECAUSE NOTHING WAS STILL HAPPENING.

When I nearly broke down from sheer exhaustion, they offered me a shot of morphine.

I took it.

Don't ever do that.

EVER.

EVER.

I went home and passed out like a ROCK.

Three hours later I woke up and needed to throw up NOW.

The bathroom was straight out our bedroom door, maybe 15 feet away from our bed.

But I, being grossly pregnant, dopey from morphine and in the middle of puking, had NO sense of direction or balance.

I was so messed up from the morphine, I could barely see.

I crashed and spun off the wall before crashing and staggering to the bathroom.

Where I threw up. Several times.

I made it back to our bed, Ryan had woken up. I told him I thought we should go back the hospital.

He asked me if I was having contractions.

I told him that I couldn't tell while I was violently throwing up but, as I was throwing up, something else came out the other end of my body that told me things were progressing.

"Ok," he says, "Just let me know when you feel a contraction."

I felt one.

HOLY SHIT!

That was not anything like the contractions I'd been having all week.

I didn't need to tell Ryan I was having a contraction, it was pretty obvious.

It was also obvious that they had intensified times a kajillion.

Ryan was not convinced by all the obviousness.

Nope.

He needed a full thirty minutes - YES, THIRTY MINUTES - of EXCRUCIATING contractions, minutes apart, and me screaming and swearing at him to GET ME TO THE HOSPITAL to convince him that yes, indeed, it was time to go to the hospital, for real.

I was so raging mad at him for taking a full half hour to time my contractions but I was in so much pain and the contractions were so close together, I couldn't do anything but writhe in pain. 

And curse.

And curse some more.

Somehow I got myself up a flight of stairs, out the door and to the car.

I remember none of this.

But I do remember the speed bumps in the hospital parking lot.

Have you ever driven over a speed bump while in labor?

Quick little biology lesson...while a woman is pregnant, everything is all tucked in, nice a tight. The baby, fluids and uterus all kinda grow together. There isn't any 'extra' room in there. But when a woman goes into labor - specifically when some or all of those fluids are ruptured - things are not so nice and tucked in any more. 

So guess what happens when things are no longer nice and tucked in and you drive over a speed bump, or 4?

It was like an entire ocean was sloshing around in my uterus.

Oh, man. It was so awful.

We park the car at Emergency, I get out and holy crap! My stomach is at my knees!

No, it wasn't.

But I had definitely dropped.

And I definitely did not know that would happen.

I waddle into the hospital, no one gives two shits how much pain I am in.

They have questions to ask and paperwork to do.

(Plus, I'm probably not the first woman ever to come into that hospital to have a baby.)

I didn't give two shits about their questions or their paperwork.

Pretty sure I answered their "Do you have your health care card?" with "Epidural. Now."

Pretty sure I answered every question with "Epidural. Now."

Eventually they gave up with me and got the information from Ryan. Then they sent for a porter who arrived with a wheelchair to take me up to the maternity ward.

I got in a bed and hooked up to an IV.

The nurse is all chatty and asking me stupid questions.

I knew if I opened my mouth, nothing good would come out, so I just laid on the bed with my eyes closed, taking deep breaths, nodding my head and hoping for good drugs SOON.

I was told a delivery room was ready for me.

And that I would have to walk down the hall to the room.

I literally opened my eyes, looked the nurse straight in the eyes and said, "What?"

She laughed at me.

So I walked.

Contractions while you are walking - wearing a hospital gown and pushing an IV pole - are NOT awesome.

The nurses are not sympathetic.

They just stand there, staring and waiting for you to finish.

They aren't cruel bitches, you just aren't the first woman in history to have a baby. Get over yourself.

It's around 6 am by this point, I'm in the delivery room and in more pain than I've ever been in my life.

I'd asked for an epidural no less that 25 times in the last hour.

A nurse comes in and tells me that they're abnormally busy in the maternity ward, they are an anesthesiologist short and I may not get an epidural at all.

My face dropped. I felt all the color drain. My breath fell short.

Sheer terror.

Despite how tired I was and how much pain I was in, I had tried very hard to be as nice and polite as possible to all the nurses taking care of me.

Pretty sure I said please and thank as many times as I had begged for an epidural, if not more.

I'm also pretty sure that is why the nurses tracked down the anesthesiologist and made him see me before he went into surgery.

Those ladies are angels. Angels.

Before 3+ hours of major contractions, I was terrified of a giant needle being inserted into my spine.

After 3+ hours of major contractions, I would have settled for a Louisville Slugger to the head if I meant the contractions would go away.

I barely felt the epidural and was numb in minutes.

And then I had a nap.

To this day, I still think that is the best thing ever.

"How was labor?"

"Oh, you know...I slept through it."

HA!

Ryan and I had been snoozing for about an hour when we were both jolted awake by a woman screaming "OH MY GOD! OH MY GOD! OH MY GOD! GET IT OUT! GETITOUT!!!! GETITOUT!!!!! OH MY GOD!! GET!! IT!! OUT!!!"

A nurse was in our room checking all the machines, Ryan and I both looked at her with what must have been a very strong "What. The. Fuck." face because she very nonchalantly told us, "She didn't get an epidural."

I might have muttered "dumbass" under my breath before falling back asleep.

Ryan and I slept for another hour before the nurses woke me up to check my progression.

It was time to have a baby!!

No, no. I'm still sleepy. Come back in an hour.

No such luck.

Baby time!

A doctor I'd never met came in (because mine was cruising, remember?) with a couple interns.

At least I think they were interns.

I remember not being comfortable with the strange doctor and even less comfortable with the interns.

I think it might have had something to with the fact that they were all standing in a line, about 3 feet away from me, talking and staring at my cooter.

Yeah, that was probably it.

I had a nurse to my left, Ryan on my right and two nurses at my legs.

Ryan was giving me ice chips on demand, holding my hand, moving my hair out of my face, whatever I needed, while the nurses were coaching me on breathing and pushing.

What the hell do I need a doctor for? She's just standing there chatting!

And staring at my business.

Normally, I would very much care about a line of people staring straight at all that. And I did, but only for a second.

Those funny nurses let my epidural wear off just enough that the contractions hurt again.

The thought of full-blown contractions again was FAR scarier than a line of medical people.

So I'm breathing and pushing, pushing and breathing...and feeling like I'm going to pass out.

I could feel my face turning beet red, I thought my eyes were going to pop out of my head and I swear blood vessels burst.

I was trying to push for as long as the nurses were telling me to.

Then I realized they were telling me to push as long as I was pushing.

Oh, that's a fun game!

I heard the nurses talking about how I was doing so awesome for a first timer and, well, I'm kind of a keener.

In the midst of birthing a baby and popping blood vessels, I was positively beaming over getting props from the nurses.

Ha ha! I kick ass at birthing babies! BOOYAH!!

And then our baby boy was born.

The world stopped as they placed him on my chest.

He was beautiful.

Perfect.

Wow.

I heard nothing, I saw nothing.

Just him.

My baby boy.

Wow.

The only thing I remember is Ryan leaning over us and telling me he loved me with such intensity in his voice that it shocked me.

I will never forget that. I only wish I could describe it better.

I didn't know until after the fact that Kadyn was born with the umbilical cord around his neck. He wasn't making any sounds when he was born but neither the doctor nor the nurses showed any concern. Thankfully there was no cause for concern.

And so, at 11:17 am, Kadyn James was born weighing in at 8 lbs 10 oz, measuring 21 inches even and sporting a full head of jet black hair.