So, despite our many predictions, I never went into labor before the scheduled c-section, which was three days after my due date. Given the baby's size, that he never dropped (probably because he's jammed in my hip), and that I never showed any signs of labor happening ever, it wasn't a good idea to wait. It looks like I'd probably have an emergency c-section even if I went into labor, and it's more dangerous to have a c-section while contracting or after pushing. The c-section was coincidentally scheduled during Kevin's Spring Break from teaching so he would be able to go with me and stay at the hospital for the full recovery period without taking any time off (something that's near-impossible for a professor). Wednesday was the big day!
This is us right before we went to the hospital. This is the sort of thing you can do when you're not actually in labor. I also took a shower and applied make-up. This is a definite plus in the c-section column. On the down-side I am hungry and even thirstier in this picture because I couldn't eat or drink after 11 p.m. on Tuesday.
Our c-section appointment was 12:00 p.m. but we had to be at the hospital for prep by 10 a.m. so we left with enough time to drive, possibly get stuck in traffic, and park at the hospital's always very full lot.
The hospital claimed to have free internet (I would have been willing to pay) and I figured that I might be able to post this sometime during the day since it was just one photo, and because I know a family friend Katie C. had blogged a lot from the hospital during labor, I figured I wasn't being crazy. But the internet promise was a lie, there was no free internet or even expensive internet, there was just a wireless name that would reject me when I clicked on it. As you can guess, I found this very disappointing!
Anyway, this is Kevin and me in the prep room. It turned out I was already having contractions every five minutes. I couldn't feel the contractions so they weren't the right kind, but my body was definitely getting ready to eject the baby anyway. Or rather to fail at ejecting the baby, hence the c-section. (Interesting note: my paternal grandmother who is also 5 feet tall had an emergency c-section for her 10-pound baby in the 1950s.)