The Waiting Is Over

When I got up this morning, I had every intention of going to our OB appointment, hearing a report of "5cm dilated", and being sent to the hospital for delivery. Sorry to disappoint. I just figured in a Lemony Snicket kind of way, I'd let you know, "this is not a movie about a happy, little, elf." It is not, however a story of "Misfortunate Events". The good news is, as usual - the sun still rises, Christ is still Lord, and Preseleigh can't stay in there forever!

So, where does that leave us? Yup, you guessed it. Back in the waiting game. Since we are teetering on week number 41, the hospital is alleged to be calling us sometime Tuesday or Wednesday to inform us they have a room (how romantic!!!) and that it's time to come in to be induced. At this point, it's a matter of procedure. A midwife comes in and gives Cristine a bitter cup of strange herbs to drink, sacrifices a chicken, and then...

How did we get to THIS hospital?!
Actually, we'll head down to the hospital, they'll get Cristine started on an IV that induces the labor, and mere moments later, I'll be eyeball-to-scrunchy-eyelid with our new baby girl. At least, that's what we're hoping for. In all likelihood we've got a good chance that she could go into labor after eating eggplant tomorrow for lunch, or Presleigh could try for the patriotic thing and wait until 9/11.
Or, I could slip the doc a C-note and just head down there this afternoon...