If you ask any previously pregnant, or a woman 30+ weeks pregnant, they will tell you that the last few weeks of incubation seem to last longer that the first and second trimester put together. My mother warned me of this, but I hardly believed it as I soared through July running up until the end of that month.
After Labor Day, I went into pre-term labor. I was told that we'd probably have a baby within 2-3 weeks, so to me that was sometime in September.
***Begin time freeze***
I sat at home, waiting. I went back to work, waiting. My due date came, and I was still waiting. Of all the emotions that flood, seep, and blast through you, it was hardest to sit and wait for your life to start again. I was sick of just holding off on everything with the fear that the next day, I'd be unavailable because I was in labor. I just wanted that baby in my belly to be in my arms, and I really started to think that I'd be Joe's wife on Family Guy, and just be pregnant forever.
Finally, at 40 1/2 weeks, little Gil started stirring (to put it lightly). My life is about to move forward! We raced to the hospital and after just a few short hours of verbally abusing Nate, rapid labor and dilation, I was headed to surgery for a C-section. I was okay with it. I trusted the doctor's call, and at that point, I wanted what ever was best, and I wanted that baby!
After about 32 people flooded into our room, prepped me, and got me into Operating Room 2. I was about an hour away from motherhood. Once I found out that the burning smell was me, and Nate was by my side, it all went so fast. Gil was here, I was a mom, tears were shed and recovery had started.
We were moved into a recovery area (which I was abandoned promptly by my husband for my son) I just remember it was so warm in there, and I felt great. I asked immediately how long we'd be in this area, since I had spent 10 hours in triage when I was in labor back in September. The nurse told me it would be a few hours, and I was okay with that too. This particular morning was yielding a lot of Valentine's Day babies, and was about as crowded as The Olive Garden was back in February. (ha-ha!) I just wanted to know what I was in for. I knew that at some point, I'd be in my room, holding my son and relaxing. Life was moving forward. Ah!
The nurse and Anesthesiologist kept checking on me to see if the cocktail of drugs was wearing off yet. They told me as soon as I could "wiggle my big toe", I'd be in line for a room. Really? Wiggle my big toe? I couldn't help but pretend that I was Beatrix Kiddo from Kill Bill. I can honestly say, I have never identified with this character, because I am simply not that much of a bad ass. I was pretty excited. I kept looking at my toe and saying "Wiggle your big toe". Nate knew what I was doing, but Gil kind of overshadowed my playful little game. Oh well. I was channeling B Kiddo, and that was pretty cool with me.
So it all came down to that. All the waiting, pain, slicing and numbness was done. I could move on with my new life of motherhood and family bliss, if only I could wiggle my big toe.