First Time Mom (the stroy of my first born....)

After a week of feeling ill and strange followed by taking a special store bought pee test, I called my girlfriend and cried "I'm pregnant, my life is over!"
I was nauseous, dizzy, and sleepy for a good six months before I discovered what to eat and what not to eat. I learned all about right foods for "vaulting into the porcelain chair." Certain foods just do not taste as good on the return route. I can't imagine why. Did you know that there are studies about what causes the nausea? American women suffer from more extreme bouts of sickness compared to other women world wide.
I bought every pregnancy book known to woman: Penny Simkin, Sears, the English chick, the girlfriends guide, what to expect, hippy holistic childbirth, birth in pictures, underwater birth, upside down birth, home birth, natural child birth, and sanitized hospital birth.
I watched all the pregnant Friends episodes over and over to prepare myself. My hair would always be done. My toe nails would always gleam. My lipstick would be perfect.
I demanded my husband get me pot stickers with soy sauce at ten o'clock at night with a giant cherry slurpee to go with it. I gave up caffeine and candy.
At about thirty-six weeks I was ready to bring a child into the world. A little early, but I started having contractions then. Not real contractions, just rolling reminders that yes, the wiggly baby in my belly was eventually going to come out. And hey, what did I know? They felt like they were doing something. Until my midwife assured me these normal contractions were doing absolutely nothing. Also I itched. All over, not just my trampoline belly. Nothing helped. (I have a theory about the itching: child #1 is a different blood type then I am. I was allergic to him.)
I also started to have restless leg syndrome. At night, I just could not relax my legs. They would twitch. Take calcium and vitamin D, someone said. I think that was it. Didn't help. I took four pills the size of a space capsule every sinking day along with those nasty prenatal things. I took two more at night before bed. I drank fortified extra thick and creamy strawberry milkshakes. The itching did not stop until the baby was born.
I never complained while my perfect little peanut was growing inside of me. I was sweet. I was patient. I loved being pregnant. I was a glowing mom to be. That's my story, anyway, and I am sticking to it.
At about 41 and 1/2 weeks the contractions started in early on a Sunday morning and didn't stop. Great, belly rolling things, between fifteen and twenty minutes apart. They started beneath my rib cage and tightened everything all the way down to my knees. Not comfortable.
We went out to dinner later to a Fondue place. I dipped meat and vegetables into two kinds of cheese and was too full to dip fruit in the chocolate. Unfortunate, because I never got to go back there and eat the dessert I had so justly earned.
I stayed up late that night. Standing beside the bed cutting out felt board figures for the children's ministry. I had put the time consuming job off and now needed something to keep me busy. I cut out the entire set of every imaginable Bible Hero, shepherd, sheep and setting. Every book says to get your rest. These start up contractions aren't the real deal, but it means the real deal is coming. But I was excited and impatient and ready.
We eventually called the hospital when the contractions started to be painful. You see, the hospital has a big bathtub with lovely jets of hot water. I wanted it. I needed it. At the hospital Miss Old-Mean-Know-It-All-Nurse hooked me up to the monitor, checked my dilation, and said I had to go home. I didn't like that woman. By Monday morning I was sitting up in rocking chair, unable to lay down, and soaking my feet, which had started to swell and hurt.

Still no baby.