Time DOES pass too quickly

Thirteen years ago yesterday, I worked a half day. Then I went to Mom and Dad's, we went to visit Lorraine and I headed home. I had a small salad (I was having some stomach upset), fed the horses and grabbed my suitcase. I was going to Methodist to start the induction process. As I squeezed behind the wheel, I called Joe and told him I was leaving. He was going to a business meeting and said he'd meet me at home later.

I got to the hospital and they settled me into a room. The nurse put a monitor on me and left me to watch TV for about a half hour while they checked on the baby inside me. I knew I was nervous and blamed the sporadic stomach upset and hot flashes on that. The nurse came in and asked how long the contractions had been going on. I explained that I wasn't having contractions -- that I was there for induction. She asked if I felt flush or nauseous from time to time. Yup I said I was and she said those were contractions. I thought "oh I don't know if I can tolerate this barfy feeling for hours while I wait to push." Little did I know the worst was yet to come.

I called Joe and he said he was on his way. The doctor said I should still start the induction process (prostaglandin gel) and plan to spend the night. They gave me something to help me sleep and when Joe got there I sent him on some ridiculous errands ("We need milk at home!" "I need my slippers!") so he went running and was gone til about 2 a.m.

At 5:30 the nurse came in, started an IV and started the pitocin. Things went pretty rapidly after that. When my water broke, it FLOODED the room (I was standing up; I had like twice the normal amount of amniotic fluid.). Joe dove for his computer, which was sitting on the floor next to the bed. The nurse came in and was pleased. She changed me and the bed, corraled the fluid into the corner of the room and we were off.

Carolyn showed up to "help." She was going to run the video. She fed me little ice chips and soon we found out that I would not be having any anesthesia -- it was TIME. Carolyn confused me some by telling me to PULL (on the hand paddles to help the pushing process) and the nurses and Joe began coaching me how to push. After about 2 hours of pushing, the doctor and the intern hooked up the suction. With Carolyn yelling, Joe encouraging, and me saying "I"m done," the doctor said ONE MORE TIME AS MUCH AS YOU HAVE and he pulled, I pushed and out she came.

She had bright red hair, she was chubby and she looked right at her dad and grabbed his finger. Grandma Jean coo'd over her, her daddy couldn't take his eyes off her and the doc attended to me -- I was a mess.

She weighed 9 pounds, 11 ounces, 21+ inches long, and she was ENORMOUS. She picked her head up and looked at her dad when we got to our room. We thought she might call our friends and announce her birth on her own. Joe named her "Hannah" and I added the "Irene" after a favorite great-aunt, because it was certain she needed to be HIP.

13 years have gone by. She now towers in at about 5 foot nine, she has her own sense of style, she's quite an individual. She's an aspiring musician -- guitarist, pianist, flutist and vocalist. She writes wonderful lyrics, she's quirky and she has a delightful sense of humor. And she definitely is: HIP.