All right, now this next shot was at 2:43 in the morning, I'm laying in one of those little triage gurney, scared to death that the nurse is going to come in and tell me that I'm not in labor and I have to go home. When I woke up at one thirty, I thought I was literally going to die. I had NO IDEA it was going to hurt that bad! Seriously!!! And my habit is to cry when I get overwhelmed, so that's what I did. I guess Nick's habit is to take my picture while I'm crying. After being an L&D nurse for a year, I looked back on the pic and you can see that she's not doing too too great even then. Isn't that crazy? I know that everyone thinks doctors do too many c-sections, and I still wonder every now and then if I'm missing out by not having experienced a vaginal delivery, but my motto is, I certainly would rather they have cut her out than for her to be born retarded, or dead. So that's my theory on that one, in case you were wondering.
In my room, after that glorious little miracle they call the epidural. Again, knowing what I know now, the mask is never a good sign. I'm so glad I was clueless back then. This was 4:40, so it must have been right before they ran in a grabbed me, leaving poor Nick stranded alone in the room with no idea what was happening to his wife OR his baby.
Cut to 10:53 (according to the picture file) when they finally brought me my baby. Oh, my daughter. Isn't she just the most precious thing you've ever seen?
When we finally did get her home, I cried for hours and tried to get Nick to take us back, where we were safe. What an idiot. Hormones, I blame the hormones.
So that's the abridged version of Ava's Birth Day. I love that little girl more than I ever thought I would love anything in the entire world.