part two: in which we have a baby...

Still insisting that I was not sure I was in labor, we drove to the hospital. The husband did his best impression of "calm man driving" as he flicked the highbeams at every car that dared get in front of us. I am a bad passenger on a good day, I don't like going over the speed limit, I don't like erratic driving, and I certainly don't like do do something so rude as passing a slower driver.... Combine all of that with a series of sharp, take your breath away contractions and you have a bitch in the passenger seat.

The roads in Long Island are dark and winding, the drivers are slower than molasses and my husband is a road warrior. I finally let him pass two cars in the village of Southampton, mostly because I was sure that I was going to push the baby out any minute; I even let him run the only light in town. But I would not let him speed. No that was out of the question!

When we got to the emergency room, the contractions had slowed and I was convinced once again that I had simply peed myself. The triage nurse asked me who my doctor was and when I responded I don't have one here, she walked out of the room saying "Oh its some summer person who didn't go home in time." I wanted to scream "No I'm not one of those asshole snooty summer people!  I swear I don't live on the Upper East Side! I don't think your hospital sucks, or is like that crap tv show Royal Pains! Please don't treat me like shit because I am not from here, please be nice to me as I deliver this kid right here in the emergency room" Instead I meekly followed her to do paperwork (I refused to be wheelchaired, I wanted to walk as much as possible since it helped the pain).

Paperwork and labor don't mix very well, but as I was still having long lulls between pain I kept insisting that I wasn't in labor, it might still be a false alarm....

The Labor and Delivery folks hooked me to a machine and noticed I was having contractions that I was not even feeling (lucky me right?) they moved me into a delivery bed as soon as one of the 7 other folks who were delivering were finished pushing out their child. The hospital midwife was introduced to me, I responded to her by saying "I'm not really a crunchy midwife mom, I just don't like needles". Seriously the woman looked like she would force me to chant the baby out while the hubby cleansed the room with crystals; we never saw her again. Maybe I offended her?

We had Jude 2 hours after we got to the hospital. I was attended by 2 nurses, an ob  (who was very summery blond and looked my age), an intern (who was green and uncomfortable looking the whole time) and the hubby (who didn't have to do anything). I had contractions that I never felt in between the ones I could; which made a large lull in the pushing- it was a "how bout that local sports team moment." But it was easy (ish) and there was no cursing (I was in The Hamptons, after all), I don't remember Jude crying upon arrival, but I guess he was fine.

And the whole time I asked for reassurance that my water had actually broken...