Just imagine a witty title here.

I’m kind of thinking about just kind of….not being intense about this blog until I feel like being intense about this blog.

Cool story, bro.

I don’t even remember how I used to come up with blog entry ideas; I’ve been sitting here for a while trying to come up with something and I came up with: the Labor Story, Part 1. It’s a thrill a mi….ohhh you just stopped reading.

Here it is anyway.  Labor with Norah was a 40-hour affair that culminated in the cutest, squishiest and best-smelling creature to ever be placed under bilirubin lights.

So my doctor’s mantra after about 36 weeks was “any minute now.” Don’t ever tell a pregnant person that. Because from that moment on, I thought I was in labor every single day.  And then I actually went into labor and lamented the loss of the last month of my pregnancy.  I’ll never get that month of sanity back and neither will everyone I told on every one of those 29 days.

I started having contractions on a Thursday afternoon whilst nibbling on a now-forgotten chicken dish at the Thai restaurant down the road from my office.  It was a goodbye lunch for a coworker and I used to love group lunches so I kind of ignored it.  I got back to the office, called Derick, packed up my stuff and snuck out, as not to have any awkward encounters wishing me luck.  I managed to avoid 90% of the office.

I made him stop by CVS on the way home though, because the day before I’d managed to score $10 off any $15 purchase using their new drive-thru service, and I was not about to miss out on that for labor.  I got home, sat my butt on that exercise ball, and turned on Harry Potter 7 to begin the breathing exercises I’d learned on the 7-minute labor YouTube video I’d used to prepare. Then the contractions stopped.

to be continued….