Claire Elizabeth Kozlowski!
It all started about 12 hours previously. I had been feeling like poo all day, Brent was at work and had just called to check in on me. We were discussing car shopping, glad we'd be able to do so before we had the baby. And how I was glad baby was waiting until I got over the cold I could feel coming on.
Then I get off the phone, stand up and...well, I had to call Brent back with a slightly frantic, "I'm pretty sure my water broke."
I had this fear when I was pregnant with Mary that I might mistake something like, oh incontinence, for my water breaking. But when it happened with her, it was pretty dang obvious so we drove off in the night to have her. So I knew what to expect this time, right?
Well.
We got to the hospital and the nurse informed me that they needed to check to make sure it was really my bag of fluids (which really doesn't sound that great) breaking. This is done using some kind of paper not unlike litmus (for all I know maybe it is). And if it doesn't turn blue, that means it's not amniotic fluid. Apparently the paper they used on me wasn't "blue enough." A doctor was called in, they did a closer exam and it was determined that what I experienced was just heavy watery discharge.
...
Yeah. Okay.
Brent and I left, having spent 2 hours in the hospital. I felt embarrassed and idiotic to say the least. We decided to stop and get dinner since we were already out and Mary was already being taken care of. I'd been complaining to Brent about how I couldn't believe it wasn't my water breaking before and blah blah blah as we get out of the car and walk to the restaurant, there's that sudden gush (I'm sorry, this is maybe TMI for some of you and I'm trying to think of a more appropriate way of wording it without grossing you out but...) of liquid. I had to run to the bathroom for refuge. I ended up calling Brent from the bathroom all, WE NEED TO LEAVE IT LOOKS LIKE I PEED MY PANTS.
It only got worse from there. And, because my pride felt wounded, I didn't want to go back to the hospital right away in case I was somehow wrong again (in truth, I never thought I was wrong to begin with but. But.).
Walking back into the Labor/Delivery ward, I was filled with what can only be called Vindication. That's right, nurses and doctors, I was BACK and ready for ACTION. HA HA HA. Claire waits for no one.
After that, the delivery progressed almost exactly like Mary's. It was quick, not exactly painless, but relatively easy all things considered. For more details, you could just go back 4 1/2 years to the post about Mary's birth and really, it reads the same. Thank goodness. I think I said it back then, but I'll say it again. If all my pregnancies result in the same type of delivery I can keep poppin them out.
While Brent and I were at the hospital, Mary was off with some friends, getting a make over. It only took a few minutes after her arrival to want to undo her hair (I don't know what it is about being near me that makes her want to not be all dolled up) but I managed to get a picture of her cute bun at least (you don't get to see the tiara comb that was in there unfortunately).
Mary has been so unbelievably sweet with Claire. At first, she was scared to touch Baby Sister, but once she realized it was okay (even when she's sleeping), Mary would take the opportunity to randomly run up to Claire and give her sweet kisses on the top of her head. She even got to hold her, something she wants to do all the time now.
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