Day 2 of this story actually begins at midnight of Day 1.
By midnight, the doctor told us to pack up and head to the hospital. Pacing around our home had done little to move the process along, so he figured the hospital was a better place for him to keep tabs on me. So, off we went.
But the tiny human that I was marinating proved to be a stubborn cuss. Foreshadowing? Our arrival at the maternity ward did nothing to improve our progress. While the staff was lovely and caring, there was very little they could do to improve our situation, so there was a lot of this.
And for The Husband, there was plenty of this....
To this day, thirty years later, he still complains that while he absolutely acknowledges that I was doing all of the difficult work, (hence the term LABOUR!) he actually got zero sleep over those hours because of the fact that he had to sleep in a chair. My pity knows no bounds. (Does sarcasm translate through a screen?)
I will dispense with many of the gory details of this story. Birthing babies is indeed a beautiful miracle and we shall leave it at that. But...for the entirety of September 2nd, 1987 we did a lot of this...
And this...
With some of this thrown in...
And absolutely NONE of this...
And still none of this...
And all that day, family and friends were preparing to say goodbye to my friend. All my life's a circle indeed.
Part three will be up tomorrow. Stay tuned to this space for the grand finale.
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