When you wake up your husband in the middle of the night and say, "Honey, its time", he's supposed to jump up and get all excited, throw the dog in the car, put out the suitcase, and in general go completely idiot-like knowing he is about to become a new daddy. Not Edward, he just groaned, rolled over and went back to sleep. So I got up, showed, dressed, pulled three sleepy toddlers from their warm beds, packed their clothes, packed the car, let the dog out, and then tried again to wake up the soon to be new daddy.
By this time the sun is beginning to rise and he is coherent enough to understand that not only are we about to have a baby, I have been in labor for several hours, and this is our FOURTH CHILD! So he jumps out of bed and becomes all idiot-like looking for the suitcase, the dog, and three missing toddlers.
We drop the children off at his brother's house and drive another forty-five minutes to the hospital only to find my doctor is on vacation in Ireland and I am put in the care of another obstetrician that I have neither seen nor heard of before. I go to the labor room, hubby heads to the waiting room (where I am sure he napped), and Elizabeth, our soon to be new addition, rolls the wrong way, becomes stubborn and will not cooperate (signs of things to come?).
For the next eight hours I walk, sit down, stand up, lay down, roll from side to side, beg, plead, and do everything I can to convince this little one to roll over. Nothing doing and she made her appearance with a smug little smile on her face as if to say, "Nobody tells me what to do". And to this day, nobody has.
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