Who’s that girl?

Well, everybody made it home safe and sound from the hospital on Tuesday, finally. For any we haven’t talked to yet, here’s the synopsis of last Friday’s event-filled day. Never let it be said that we do anything the easy way:
5:23 am: Frances wakes up with pain, but it doesn’t really feel like labour
7:00 am: We decide to go in to Fort Frances to get things checked out, anticipating being home by mid-morning. Gareth goes to day care.
7:45 am: Halfway to Fort Frances, things feel a little more like labour. Crap.
8:00 am: Arrive at the hospital, still feeling like labour. Nurse in emergency department says she doesn’t think it’s labour.
8:15 am: Nurse in ER is wrong.
8:30 am: Hospital resource coordinator tells us she’s ordering up the air ambulance to fly us to Winnipeg for the delivery (Fort Frances doesn’t deliver premature babies except in emergencies). We have nothing — no bag, no camera…nothing.
9:50 am: They load us in the ambulance to go to the airport.
10:00 am: The air ambulance is late. We wait at the hospital.
10:20 am: Nurse checks Frances to see how labour is progressing. She’s dilated 2 cm in half-an-hour. “You’re not going to Winnipeg,” she announces. We wheel back into the delivery room.
10:30-11:18 am: Labour. Oh my God, labour. At one point, nurse tells Frances, “You’re out of control.” Lincoln feels like he’s out of control as well, just not yelling as loud.
11:19 am: Naomi Frances Dunn arrives, screaming her head off. Six pounds, twelve ounces, and all is well.

Category: Frances
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