The next morning I got punched (actually kicked, but we'll get to that part later) in the cervix as I was stepping into the shower. So I said to myself..."humm" and washed my hair. Then I proceeded to run around the house like a mad woman cleaning for a surprise visit from her in-laws. Barry had to literally take some dirty socks out of my hands and escort me to the car. Side note: I think "Nesting" should be listed in the Big Book of Crazy. In my effort to not make a big deal out of the fact that I was in labor I started announcing turrets-style the time on the clock when I felt a contraction, so that we could keep a eye on it. I don't think it was until after we had stopped for Dunkin Donuts for Barry (another Due Date tradition) that we realized they were three to five minutes apart. I said another little prayer similar to the last only more about Liam's borrowed car we were in. Then I talked Barry out of getting pulled over on purpose in order to get a police escort to the hospital. I wish I were kidding. I did consent to calling my doctor's office to let them know I was in labor. They said my doctor was already at the hospital and they would put me right through. I did stop long enough to take this picture Thursday morning. I'm usually not a fan of "belly"photos, but I had never been this big before and we were all a buzz to see how big this baby was going to be.
So we got to the hospital, Barry wheeled me up to Maternity. I got checked in, went to my room. Got the monitors on. Had some one fuck up an IV in my wrist with the biggest needle ever! They checked me and said I wasn't dilated at all so no worries and no rush. Got prepped for surgery and went in. The spinal tap went smoothly. Barry stood up and watched the whole thing go down on the other side of the curtain. After a few seconds of being pushed on so hard I couldn't breathe I was told there was a butt coming out of me and she was pooping. And Miss Imogen Grace Viprino was born. Barry and I decided on the name right there in the O.R. Later Barry told me all about how they had tried to turn her so she'd come out head first, but I think I'll spare you all that little story. Let's just say my insides feel man handled.
I swear I'm wearing a hospital gown here I'm just not sure why it's being camera shy. So nine pounds and thirteen (and a half) ounces. Twenty and a half inches long. Imogen was the biggest baby in the nursery. I think she scared a set of five pound twins who thought she might steal their lunch money. She skipped preemie clothes and new born diapers all together.
This is her getting burped by one of the nurses in the middle of the night. What a great smoosh face. Get a load of those cheeks!
Here's Daddy and big brother with baby Imogen. Gregory and Dahlia are in love with her. They want to help hold every bottle and burp her. I bet Dahlia would try to change her diaper if I let her.
My stepfather BillBarry's grandparents.
My Dad and stepmother Carol.
And here's one more of her sweet little chubba-face.