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You may be wondering how I
got here, so I decided to write this little story to tell you all about
my trip. I'm sure you don't want to know every little detail, so I'm
just going to give you the high points.
Back in February 2007 when I
started my trip, I spent a lot of time doing math. You know, divide,
divide, divide, and then multiply, multiply, multiply. Nothing really interesting
happened until about week 32 when I got a craving for a Taco Bell
Burrito Supreme. You know the one, and with some hot sauce to top it
off. Apparently this was a bit early in my trip for fast food, so Mom
went to the hospital to have them stop her labor contractions. They said
something about keeping me underwater for a bit longer so my lungs could
develop. I didn't see a problem because I wasn't using my lungs for
anything.
Anyway, I chilled out for
another couple of weeks, but I was really getting antsy floating around
upside down all the time. On top of that, my travel capsule was really
getting a little cramped. What's a girl to do? After all, girls just
want to have fun, so I tried to bust out one more time. No luck. Mom
went to the hospital again and the doctor doped her up big time. Mom
even had to take trip continuation pills for a few days to keep me from
busting out.
I still don't see what the big deal was. I really
don't. But I decided if they waned to keep me in the travel capsule, I
was going to help them out. When my scheduled arrival date rolled around
at 40 weeks, I was as cool as a cucumber. No kicking, punching, twisting
and turning from me. But to be truthful, I was getting really cramped
and I don't think I could have moved much even if I wanted to. No
matter. I stuck to my guns and refused to go to the arrival port. Well sister let me tell you,
by week 42 things in my travel capsule were tighter than a republican at
a charity fund raiser. But did I give in - no way. I just hunkered down
and waited for Mom's next move. Little did I know that time had expired
for my travel ticket. Mom checked into the hospital on Wednesday the
7th, and the doctor started the arrival process. The next morning, the
doctor popped my travel capsule and all the water drained out. It wasn't
really a problem because I still had my umbilical cord, but now I didn't
have any cushion from all the contractions that were getting worse by
the minute.
Ready or not, I was being
pushed to the arrival port. That's when, much to my horror, I found out
that by hanging around for a couple of extra weeks I had gained too much
weight to slip out easily. Every few minutes the contractions were
making me bang my head into something hard. Bang, bang, bang and squish,
squish, squish. This was starting to wear me out.
I heard Mom and the doctor
exchanging words about whether they were going to keep banging my head
against that rock, or if the doctor would open a new port just for me. I
gotta tell you that I was pulling for the doctor's plan, but Mom said
NO. I knew right then that if I didn't help out in this arrival process
my poor little head was going to crack like an egg. So the next time Mom
pushed hard, I tilted my head a little bit and bingo my head was out.
One more big push and I was completely out.
It was really good to be
able to stretch out, but the arrival process wasn't very nice. People
were tossing me around and sticking something in my nose and mouth. What
kind of welcome is that? Then people started taking pictures of me, and
I was a mess. Did they let me get cleaned up, do my hair and make-up?
NO. They didn't even wait for me to get dressed!
My actual arrival time at
the hospital was November 8th, 2007 at 7:03pm. I weighed
in at 8 pounds and 8 ounces and I was 20 inches tall. So I guess my
lucky number is 8 (8th of November, 8 pounds, 8 ounces). I was holding
out for 8pm, but you can see that didn't work out.
Well, that's the story of my
travels so far. All-in-all I think it was a good experience, but next
time I think I'll just take a bus instead. |
Dateline:
December 2007 |
