4 years ago tonight

I was in the middle of a cookie baking marathon with my sister-in-law when I felt the first contraction come hard and fast. I went upstairs and laid down for awhile only to end up at the OB triage only to be sent home because they said I wasn't in "real" labor. I knew of course that I was, but I wasn't dilating so they sent me home. 2 hours later I was back with contractions 2 minutes a part, begging for my doula (this hospital supplies them...once you've been admitted) but I still wasn't dilating.

Bob and I walked the hospital halls while I labored. Finally, my water broke outside the elevator on floor 6, where I yelled, "HA! Take that Nurse Ratched!" Seconds later, I was overwhelmed and out of control. By the time they checked me (2cm) and got me upstairs and out of my clothes, I was a complete lunatic. 15 minutes after the first check, they checked me again. I was completely dilated. "Oh," they said. "No wonder you were acting like that. huh."

It then took me 3 hours to push the little bastard out. (My fault. I just figured out how to push with the last one.) 15 minutes after that Bob was out the door to get to Conor's City/County soccer Championship (he won!) and I curled up with my brand new Oliver and
took the first of many warm and wonderful naps. *sigh* heck! We had one this afternoon.

So, tonight we made gingerbread men along with 5 other kinds of cookies. If I had to describe the differences between Rosie and Max I could never describe it as well as this picture. Want to guess whose is whose?



And then there's this little cherub. I'm afraid she has weaned. Just like that. It makes me sad because it kind of came with no warning. If I had known that was the last time...