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Get This Party Started

So what do you do when you're reclining in a hospital bed, Olympic beach volleyball on the TV and watching petocin slowly drip through an IV into your arm? You blog.

As of 3:32pm, all is manageable. Ask me in an hour or two and the tune will most likely be different. Petocin scares the crap out me, but as long as it gets the baby out of me, I'm trying to not freak out.


I woke up this morning and greeted the day as a normal Monday. After walking Trudy a few miles and spending 40 minutes on the elliptical, it dawned on me I felt a little crampy, for lack of a better term. And without getting too graphic, I started to wonder if my water had broken. (It was nothing like it's portrayed on television.)

So I called a handful of friends and my sister to get some feedback. All signs pointed to yes, so I called my doctor's office which said just go to the hospital. I took Trudy for a second walk while waiting for Husband to get home and try not to overreact.

At the hospital it's confirmed -- water broken. Doctor tells me I'm lucky to be getting the "get out of pregnancy free" card two weeks early, especially since this is my first. I'm shocked. I was so sure this baby would be late. My laptop is still at the office. I didn't get all my thank you notes out. Damn it.

Truth is, I've been wrong about most of it. I was certain it was a boy, but it's not. I swore the baby would be big, but signs don't point that way. I thought I'd be way overdue. Wrong again. Maybe all this is just preparation for how little I'll have control over very soon.

Well, ice chips are calling. Hopefully the next photo I post will be of someone much cuter than me.


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