Baby has landed

I've always thought it cheesy when people talk about the "miracle" of childbirth, but the arrival of Abigail Rachael Leigh Stinson at 1:28 in the afternoon on Feb. 21 was, if not miraculous, pretty darn startling.

A brief recap:
10 p.m., Feb 20. Sue feels serious contractions, as a result of prepping for a planned induction the following day. We call the hospital at about 11, and they tell us to come on in, as the contractions are about 2 minutes apart.

Turns out that means nothing. Sue is no more dilated after several hours of contractions than she was a week earlier. We are expected back the next morning at 8, so decide to just bunk down at the hospital.

This does not lead to the greatest of sleeps. The fold-out chair provided for fathers appears to be designed so as to give daddy a crippling back ache, which helps him empathize with the spouse.

8 a.m, Feb. 21. The contractions having stopped long ago, Sue is given an IV of oxytocin. That fires things up. Within a couple hours she is given an epidural by a helpful chap, Dr. Cooper, who points out that no one ever remembers the anesthetist. I just did, so there.

By noon, things are really cooking. When Owen was born three years ago, the oxytocin took the better part of a day to get Sue fully dilated. Not this time. She is more than halfway there after a couple of hours, and by 1 p.m. is ready to go. She tells the nurse that she is feeling very uncomfortable, like something is pressing against her insides. That would be the baby, we're told. The nurse makes a prediction: the baby will be out at 1:28 p.m. This seems like crazy talk. It took more than 2 hours of pushing to shove Owen down the chute, and she's telling us it will all be over in less than half an hour? Nutty.

The memory is a bit fuzzy about the rest. Dr. Chouinard arrived, and Sue pushed for, oh, 10 minutes. Through four or five contractions. And out came Abby. At 1:28 p.m.

We're taking the nurse, Sherisse, to Vegas.