It is 5AM. We have been in the hospital now for three hours. Alli has been given her epidural, and now feels, she says, like she’s sitting in a bowl of soup. Everything is going smoothly. By everyone’s best guess, Jonah should arrive around noon, or maybe a little later, today.
We’ve been up all night. We even went to a party last night—of a bunch of MFA kids, at Chuck’s house (that’s our fearless leader). Alli was having contractions the whole time, and I had this stupid piece of paper, covered in times, keeping track of her contractions. Every time she had one, she nudged my arm, then, for about a minute, she did not say a word—because contractions, in case you didn’t know, really hurt.
So then we left the party, and drove home—but every time I drove over a bump, Alli was ready to divorce me. When we got home, we watched some TV. A few hours later, the contractions were heavy and regular and full of fight, so we came here. They wheeled her upstairs, and now I have this uncomfy couch-bed-thingy to sleep on, while she sleeps on her side in the hospital bed. She’s not uncomfy, though, because she still feels like she’s sitting in soup.
Our midwife, Randi, isn’t on call right now, but maybe by later this morning, she will be. We hope so—we really want her around for this.
More soon. Sleep now.
Love to you.
Carlos & Alli