Are we ready for the induction tomorrow morning?

...Oh wait. Little Michael decided to once again do things on his own terms and surprise us. I should have guessed it, the way he defied those birth control percentages and all. He doesn't listen to OUR plans.

I promise I'll write more later about Andrew and Lily's reaction to Michael later. Here is the birth story timeline, as promised by Jeff.

April 9:

8:15 am: I have a midwife appointment. I am still only dilated 1cm, but my cervix is quite soft, so the midwife is willing to induce me at the end of the week. My induction is scheduled for 6:15 am Friday April 11th. She also stripped my membranes again...but this time it didn't hurt a bit.

8:45 am: I call everyone I know to tell how excited I am that this baby is coming out Friday! Okay, not everyone, but all the people who are coming to help take care of said baby.

9:15am - 5:00pm: Take Andrew to school, go to grocery, put away groceries, pick up Andrew at school, eat lunch, go to park with the kids, come home and make dinner.

5:30pm: While eating dinner notice that my Braxton Hicks are turning a bit painful. Jeff leaves for fencing class and my mom gets the kids ready for a bath.

6:30pm: While Lily is bathing, I put a robe in a bag. The extent of my packing. Put Lily to bed while Andrew takes bath with Memere's help.

7:30pm: Read Andrew books, but let Memere tuck him into bed. These contractions are getting ouchie.

7:30-9:00 pm: Sit and chat with Mom. Have LOTS of contractions, none of which are too painful (I'm still talking through them) and seem too short and irregular to be of any significance.

9:00pm: Post this blog entry, in which I make fun of my mother thinking I'm in labor (who's laughing now?)

9:30 pm: Try to go to bed. Contractions too painful to sleep with. I notice the clock when they start, 9:34...then 9:44...then 9:54. Oops. These are looking regular.

10:00 pm: Jeff gets home from fencing to find me sitting in the recliner wincing through contractions. He goes upstairs to get dressed. I scoff and tell him I don't think they're lasting long enough.

10:00-11:00: They ARE lasting long enough. Turns out they'd been lasting 60-90 seconds each...I just didn't notice because I was working through them. I can no longer talk through them. We decide to call the midwife. Reluctantly. I didn't want to over react, drive all the way to Jersey, and then get sent home.

11:30 pm: Midwife calls me back and tells me just to go ahead in. Mostly based on how fast Lily's labor went once I got to 3 cm.

12:19 am: After one of the longest drives of my life, we arrive at the hospital in the 'hood. Parking ticket stamped "12:19"

12:40 am: Get into a gown and begin discussion with midwife and nurse. Goes like this, "What is your social?" "I want an epidural." "How many centimeters were you at the last doctor's appointment?" "I want an epidural." Every response was the same. Go figure. I really really want an epidural.

12:50 am: Midwife explains that before I can get an epidural, I will need some bloodwork, an IV, etc. She is pretty sure I'm actually in labor, based on my performance during each contraction. As she goes to check me, I am praying that I am at least 3 cm so they won't send me home.

12:51 am: The midwife chuckles and says, "Giselle. You are 9 cm...and I can stretch you easily to 10. It's time to start pushing. Bear down if you get the urge."

12:52 am: There is a loud cracking sound as Giselle's jaw drops to the floor.

12:53 am: I begin asking anyone with a pulse if they will please give me an epidural before I have to push. Everyone says no.

12:53-1:18 am: There is much screaming and grunting and pleading and bargaining. There is a huge ring of fire, but amazingly little tearing.

1:19 am: Michael Paul slides into this world and immediately steals a huge piece of my heart and soul.

So there. After it was over, the midwife declared it a "Pioneer birth", because I didn't even have time to get an IV. So no covered wagons, folks. Just squatting in the fields and back to work!

More on my amazing baby later. I must go admire him while there are no other little people around.