Less than fifteen minutes after that last post, I lost my internet for 36 hours! It's just wrong. Wrong, I say!
It's a boy (which we knew). 8 lb 7 oz born at 4:21 Friday afternoon in my bedroom in a decked out horse tank. (I just lost most of you, didn't I?) Those are the necessary details.
And now for the rest of the details.
In the interest of sticking to my accidental fantastical blog naming of my children, this one shall be referred to as Frog (like the frog prince) until he better establishes himself as a personality that isn't all hunched into frog shape. Hubs already calls him chipmunk. I think he means like those pink hairless newborn creatures not the hyperactive hole diggers that eat Fruit Loops out of your hands.
I did make it to the shower and I highly recommend women worldwide schedule a shower for their early labor as a nice distraction. Though, I have to say, by the end of the two hours, I was ready to head for home and less of an audience. Just as I was heading out the door, my friends grabbed me and prayed for me and man, my contractions took a turn for the hard. I consider that a good thing, I hate puttering along for hours on end.
My sister and I picked the big kids up from school, we took them home and fed them and then she took them to her home. I burst into tears like I always do at this point. So Hubs called in the midwife. Of course, as soon as she showed up I had no contractions for fifteen minutes. My body always does that.
However, I started packing up swimsuits and loading the dishwasher and stuff and, lo and behold, high gear.
We watched KU cream Oklahoma (? (as if I gave a rip at that point)) and then I took to my tank.
About 3:30 my doorbell started to ring. For. The. Love. Of all things holy. I'm sitting somewhere between a nine and full and people are delivering bouquets (which I'm thankful for, just the timing was a little, um, unusual).
Long story shorter: Hard labor for about 4 hours and done. Ten days early. All in all a great day. He is healthy. I have a supply of nourishment that made its appearance last night. I'm surrounded by people who love me.
(I'm a prisoner in my bedroom without internet.)
I can tote my laptop to the top of the stairs and get a good enough connection to post a blog and answer email. People continue to show up with flowers. My feet have made a reappearance. Sitting isn't a problem (read: no tearing). I have a wonderful new child to teach about Jesus, but he is already teaching me.
And for those of you that I would recognize if you show up at my door, Grand Central Station is open for visitors.