Sleep... little did I know, that was going to be the last time I got to selfishly indulge in mindless, blissful, uninterrupted sleep. I was disturbed from my last moment of peace by my doctor who oh so delicately shared that he was going to shove a monitor up my hoo ha to measure the contractions (since I was being put on pitocin). I think his approach was "If I don't tell her that this is going to be the most painful thing she has ever felt IN HER LIFE, maybe it won't hurt". Yea... thank you for that. As he was fishing around for the right spot to insert the monitor, my eyes glazed over, staring at that happy face pain poster. You know, the one that shows a spectrum of smiley faces, from yellow and joyous to red and furious? I wanted to throw the poster at my doctor's face.
Yes, if you were wondering, it was a ten. And I am not a wimp. After some tears and a few choice words, they finished the "insertion" and all I had to do was wait for the pitocin to kick in. Next, came the most wonderful man of all- Mr. Anesthesiologist (if only he could have arrived 30 minutes sooner). Once he had rewarded me with the epidural, I felt like a cloud, in fact I felt like belting out the song "Hallelujah", only interchanging the lyrics with "Ehhh- pi- dural, Ehhhhh-pi-dural, Epidural, Epirdual, Eh-eh-pi-du-ral". Now, after this, I must admit, everything else just seemed to fly by. I have never been more amazed and felt more supported than I did when my husband was holding me through the delivery process. He was heaven sent, holding my legs and cheering me on. Two and half hours later, at 5:22 PM, a baby boy was born, a beautiful baby boy. 
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