In August of 2006, I discovered I was pregnant. We weren't trying, but we weren't adverse to the idea. Mister Man and I had been together for going on 5 years, and it was time to either shit or get off the pot when it came to our relationship. We had talked about marriage and kids, and now, it was becoming a reality.

My first appointment was scheduled until October something. That day is a blur. I would have been 10 weeks. We were to get the dating ultrasound, and everything else they do at the first appointment. I went back alone at first, and my doctor, Dr. Starke asked me if I wanted to do the u/s without Will in the room first, just in case, everything wasn't as to be expected. I said no.

She did the u/s and we could see the little sac. What we could not see was a heartbeat. She looked at us matter of factly and said, maybe our dates were wrong and it was too soon. She told us to schedule an appointment in 2 weeks for another u/s. We did this. This was a Monday. In my heart, I wasn't sure. I wanted to believe that everything was ok. But deep down I knew something was wrong.

Thursday, I started bleeding. Not just a regular bleeding, but a deathly amount. It was scary. I called and canceled the appointment and let them know that my miscarriage was happening. Nothing much was said. I bled for 19 days. And finally had to go in and have a D&C done to remove everything. It wasn't all that bad, but I felt that something inside of me had died. Well, in fact it did. Our baby.

They did a pathology on the fetus, embryo? And it came back that it was a molar pregnancy. I was told to not try to conceive for at least a year. I was heartbroken. This baby was not planned, but this baby was wanted. I very much wanted to have a baby. This only intensified my feelings.

In January, on my birthday, Will and I had fun, lol. And after we were done, I said to Will, I'm pregnant. He laughed and was like Yeah right. Sure enough I was.

I hadn't been keeping track of my periods, but I did not have one in December or January. They gave me a tentative due date of October 4th. Then at the dating u/s they gave me a due date of September 28. Later my doctor, unofficially changed it to September 21, or the 14th. Eventually they settled on the 21st.

I had a pretty uneventful pregnancy. No morning sickness. My 20 week u/s showed that we were having a boy. We knew we were going to name our first son after Mister Man's father, whom had died when he was 10. Thomas William. Tommy.

I worked, waiting on tables til my 37th week. I just couldn't take the 8 hours on my feet any longer. Then I just sat at home and did nothing. We had a couple times that I thought I was in labor, only to make the walk of shame home. At 37 weeks, I was dilated 5 centimeters, with no contractions. I had my membranes stripped twice at 39 weeks. Things weren't just progressing.

Sept 14 came and passed, September 21st and 28th came and passed. I had an induction date set for October 4th. My original due date. Imagine that. By now, I had gained an amazing 70 pounds, and I was ready to have this baby. I was plagued with restless nights, and the most horrible heartburn you can imagine.

So October 4th, was a Thursday. I was scheduled to go in at 8pm. We arrived 15 minutes before. Checked in and was told I would have to wait out in the waiting room as there was no beds available for me. So out we sat in the waiting room. I had a book, Mister Man had his PSP. We waited until 2am. They had told us we could go home, but I was not guaranteed a spot. At 2am the charge nurse came out and told me they were ready for me! SHOW TIME!!

Got back in the back, got prepped, peed in a cup, got hooked up to an IV. Started the Pitocin. Around 4am, I started feeling umcomfortable. I was still at 5cm, no change. Got Fetanyl. Took the pain away for like an hour. At 6am, I was ready for the epidural. I am no hero, I did not want to have a natural childbirth. Screw all that noise.

The epidural guy came in around 7am. He was a heavy set Asian man, described to me what he was going to do. I made the mistake of asking him if he was good at his job. Jinxed myself right there. He had to poke me 2 times to get the epidural to work. Mister Man almost passed out. But once it was in and working, ahh sweet relief. I actually took a nap. Watched the contractions on the monitor and amazed myself at how hard they looked. Mister Man's mom was there, and she kept saying over and over how relaxed I was. Yeah it's amazing what a spinal block can do for anxiety.

Well, all that ended around 11am. I started feeling pain on my right side. I called Hillary in, which I might add, wins the award for being the best nurse ever, to see if she could help me turn over and maybe get the epidural working on my right side. I was on my right side for about 20 minutes, epidural not working yet, when she rushes in and says that the baby's heart rate has dropped considerably and I need to flip back over to my left side again and see if it increases. As soon as I flip over his heart rate comes back up. Dammit!

So I labor on that side, basically feeling everything. Around 1pm, they break my water to see if that will help me progress. I still have yet to dilate any further. I am still 5cm. I am still in the most horrible pain I have ever imagined. I beg to flip back over to get it working. They have put in a new bolus of epidural in to see if this helps a little bit. I flip over and immediately his heart rate drops. DAMMIT! I get another shot of fetanyl. Doesn't even touch the pain this time. Around 3pm, I get another cervix check, STILL 5 CM! OMG! What is wrong with my body. The contractions are right on top of each other, no break in between. Will is somehow managing to SLEEP in the chair. WTF!?

Around 4pm it gets a little hazy here... Mister Man's mom runs out of the room, yelling something. I learn later that Tommy's heart rate had dropped to the 40s. And she was yelling for them to do something. All the sudden there is 20 people in my room. One small doctor who doesn't look older enough to be delivering babies, speaks softly to me among all the chaos that is going on.

She tells me that it is time to have Tommy. Things aren't going as well, 14 hours now and I haven't progressed 1 cm on the Pitocin, the epi isn't working, and Tommy's heart rate keeps dropping. They want to do a C-Section.

OF COURSE! The one part of 'What to Expect...' that I didn't read, because, me thinking, that will never happen to me.

They take the pit down, they give me a shot of Terbutaline, to stop my labor, to increase his heart rate and wheel me out of the room to the OR. This is an emergency. Talk about scared. I am shaking uncontrollably. I can't find Mister Man anywhere. I get into the OR, and my labor has stopped. No more contractions, no more pain, Tommy is ok. It is not an emergency anymore. Whew! Now, Mister Man can come in and maybe see his son be born. I reach over to talk to a nurse to tell Mister Man to not forget the camera.

The ana(not even gonna try and spell that word) drug guy works on me to get my epidural working, and I can still feel everything. Later I learn that they give me enough epidural for a 450lb man. I am so heavy and dead that I am having a hard time breathing. Ok, it's time to have the baby. They let Mister Man in, and he looks so scared. He comes over to me and all I can think about is the camera. He forgot it. I cried a little.

They begin. I was in and out of it, listening to them, feeling lots of weird things. Mister Man stood up and watched the whole entire thing. My boyfriend, who refuses to squish spiders watched them cut me open and take our son out.

When they finally got to Tommy, it seemed like forever, I felt this huge amount of pressure, and out he came. I heard his little cry, and broke down myself. That was the sweetest thing I had ever heard.

5:03pm he came into the world, weighing 8 pounds 9.9 ounces, measuring 20 inches long. I was later told that he was sunny side up, and all cock-eyed coming out, I would have never been able to push him out they said.

Recovery went really well. I was ready to leave the hospital at the end of the first day, and got to go home at the end of the second day. I was up and doing laundry by day 5. Yeah, I'm a trooper. Actually, I can't stand tons of laundry.

And life will never be the same.