At about 4:00 a.m. I awoke with a contraction. I had another five minutes later. And then another. I literally woke up in active labor, which is so Hollywood-movie that I had to laugh. At the hospital, Jim ferried me to the fourth floor in a pediatric wheelchair. My feet dragged the floor. I was giddy, waving to people. Look at me! Iím in labor!
It stopped being funny when I had dilated up to nine centimeters and my water finally broke.
In the following weeks, we made two unhappy discoveries. One was that the baby had gastroesophageal reflux, characterized by projectile vomiting and nearly constant wailing. The other was that I was completely insane.
Read excerpts from Inconsolable