9am: Appointment with the OB. Baby looks fantastic on ultrasound, but no changes in my cervix... so it's a go for c-section. Unfortunately, the doctor is unable to accommodate my preferred section date, and now the hospital is unable to accommodate my runner-up section date, so I was given a new date of Thursday, October 22. Not ideal, but we'll make do.
11am: Head home and frantically begin insurmountable task of folding and sorting laundry while kids are napping. Task is especially daunting considering I purchased and washed 180 pieces of 3T/4T clothing from craigslist the day before. Shit.
1pm: Kids are up and we're all hungry. I call my sister to see if she wants to join us for lunch at our new favorite eatery, Huey Magoos. She's up for it and heads our way.
2pm: Sis arrives and asks why I keep stopping in my tracks and breathing funny. Huh. Because I'm beginning to notice really sharp pains along my old c-section scar whenever the baby moves. Not contractions, but really really, like take the wind out of your sails, painful. I figure the baby is just sitting funny and I've been on my feet too much, so we head out for a late lunch.
3pm: Baby has not shifted, pain is getting worse. I ask my sister to make me call the doc if I'm still complaining in an hour. Having a pretty good idea of what will happen if I call the doc, I proceed to stuff my face with tasty fried chicken and french fries.
430pm: I break down and call my doc. He says give it another hour to see if baby will shift, but call back immediately if pain gets worse.
5pm: Hubs is home between classes, so I recruit him to watch the kids while I take a hot shower. Doesn't this always help? No.
530pm: Call the doc back. Pain is worse. Starting to panic a little. He says get the kids situated with someone and head to the hospital.
6pm: Send Hubs back to school because waiting is Not. His. Thing. I would rather wait alone. This is not to say he's not wonderful. He IS wonderful. Just not at waiting.
630pm: After much dilly-dallying and procrastinating, I get the kids to my sister's and head to the hospital.
7pm: Triage is disgusting. Beautiful hospital, wonderful staff, but triage? Disgusting. Thankfully, my doc was spectacularly awesome and called ahead so I didn't have to wait but a few minutes to be taken back.
730pm: Apparently my doc knows everyone. No less than six doctors and nurses have peeked in to make sure his patient is doing ok and to reassure me he's on his way very soon. Also, he's been texting me. Seriously, best OB ever.
745pm: My best friend, Keri, shows up to keep me company. She totally ignores the no eating in triage rules and eats fast food. I would have been upset, except I was still stuffed full of tasty fried chicken and french fries.
8pm: Taken up to pre-op and Keri goes outside to wait for Hubs and direct him when he gets here.
830pm: Doc and hubs show up while I'm answering about ten billion questions for a remarkably funny nurse who seems to think I won't be picking up my kids for at least six weeks after the surgery. Haha.
9pm: Epidural. Hate this part. Hate it.
930pm: Wheeled to the OR. Proceed to get horrifically dizzy and nauseas. A less than stellar experience. Anesthesiologist is awesome though and uses lots of tricks to keep me from puking. Including a Hitler-esque mustache of tissue soaked in rubbing alcohol. Who knew?
950pm: Baby Stephen (still unnamed at this point) is born. A stellar experience. No one bothers to say the sex, they just say 'April was right again!'
955pm: Room is still spinning, so the anesthesiologist pumps me full of drugs and I promptly pass out.
11pm(ish?): Wake up in recovery next to my gorgeous baby and husband. This is a super treat because with my last deliveries they didn't let me see the baby for many many hours after delivery. Nursed right away. Awesome!
12pm(ish?): Transferred to my room, epidural removed (yay!) and Hubs heads home to stay with the big boys. And the end to one spectacular day. Spectacular.