Babies are slow.

Yesterday we spent six and a half hours at the hospital. There was no waiting room in the labor and delivery unit, so Tony and I camped out on the floor next to the registration desk. He did eight crosswords. I read an entire book. Every once in a while, Ralph [the Dad-to-Be] would come out, looking haggard and worn down and say something like, 'No change' or 'She's sleeping' or 'Dear fucking god she's been at six centimeters for THREE HOURS'. Well. I screamed that last one myself. It echoed in the dingy hallways.

Here's my thing: So Canadians have free healthcare. Good for you guys. But. Seriously. Do you think maybe your hospitals could at some point acquire a BROOM? Or some FUCKING CHAIRS? How about a couple of BEDS? Sarah finally had the baby despite the fact that his middle name was never changed. He's over eight pounds and twenty two inches long. While he appears to be beautiful, I cannot say this for sure as I have not been allowed to actually SEE the baby yet. Because. We're not allowed into the sterile delivery room, but that's the only place the hospital HAS BEDS. We camped out in the hallway, hoping that at some point, Ralph would be able to sneak the baby out for us to see. Under his shirt or something. I offered him my purse. Every once in a while this nurse in a red shirt would walk past and say, 'Guys, it's going to be a while. We don't have any beds. Maybe you should try tomorrow [sympathetic smile, giggle, tilt head]. She started repeating this at about ten o'clock, which was two hours after visiting hours were officially over. BUT. She NEVER ASKED US TO LEAVE. I figured that the hallway was a safety zone. Like in freeze tag.

SO, she finally had the baby. At 10:30. Tony and I paced and paced and paced and waited for Ralph to come running out the doors, Zachary held high above his head, followed by a small army of angry, Canadian nurses. It never happened. He did, however, take my camera in the delivery room and return with some of the cutest damn baby pictures I've ever seen.

We were winding down, hugging and looking at the pictures when the nurse in the red shirt walked past us, stopped and turned around. She'd been so nice and honest and smiley all night, I was about to thank her. Before I could say anything, though, her mouth opened and she yelled: 'SERIOUSLY LEAVE WE HAVE SECURITY FOR THIS KIND OF THING GO NOW.'

...And then she trotted down to her semi-private room in the psych ward, turned on some nice music and called it a night.