The In Betweens.

36 weeks, he showed no signs of coming. 

37 weeks, i was induced. 

Induced on the 21st at 11am.

Water bag breaks at 3:35am on the 22nd.

Munchkin arrives 1:21pm on the 22nd. 

The In Betweens?

Brace yourselves.

It goes from nothing happening.

To funny cramp like feelings.

To more massive cramps.

To sudden realisation that they were contractions (idiot, i know i know).

To trying to walk it off (it apparently helps with the contractions).

To listening to my ipod religiously.

To getting religious and praying the rosary a good few times.

To being wheeled down to the delivery suite (still thinking i could walk about whenever i wished).

To being strapped in to hear the baby's heartbeat (dammit! bedridden. bad move).

To waiting.

To getting high on laughing gas.

To still feeling pain.

To getting jabbed in the thigh.

To getting bored and still feeling pain.

To trying to locate Jesus with my rosary so i could beg him to sit beside me to curse my partner together.

To feeling a pop in my tummy.

To freaking out thinking i peed myself.

To thinking, "what on earth did i drink that i am peeing this much."

To getting the nurse to say, "wow that's a lot of water" (camel much?).

To getting the epidural.

To finding such relief knowing i controlled the epidural.

To more waiting.

And more waiting.

To snoozing.

To waking and waiting.

To trying to comprehend all the different things i had to do just to push.

To trying to do whatever i thought i had comprehended.

To pushing and felt no difference whatsoever.

To asking the doctor, "Seriously, is anything even bloody happening?"

To getting snipped.

To finally having a baby tumble out.

To tearing when i saw him.

To being stitched.

To having so many questions being asked.

To being so damn distracted looking at my son.

So yes. 

All that happened between being induced to actually popping.

It suddenly made perfect sense when ladies said they were in labour for hours.

Yupp. It was hours.