The First 48... Reprise

One of the best things about being a midwife is all the time I spend sitting around talking to ladies in labor.  When they are unmedicated, I get snatches of gossip in 2-3 minute intervals while waiting for the next contraction to come. Then I wait around for a minute or so for the contraction to pass and the gossip starts up again right where it left off.  For some, it might seem like an odd way to carry on a conversation, but for me, it's natural.  Just like its natural for me to get dressed for a delivery when I start hearing pooping noises.  

I've learned all sorts of great stuff from these quick snatches of conversation.  Like how to improve cyber security and what makes a building more hurricane safe.  This weekend I was caught at the hospital for close to another 48 hour stretch and learned that many popular bloggers use ghost writers.  That's right!  Here I am trying to make a legitimate fortune with my fantastic wit, and the sweet lady sweating and moaning with contractions next to me admitted she's a ghost writer and makes 8 bucks a post for someone else!  8 bucks?!  I haven't even made 8 cents!  And how much is the cheapskate that's paying you making on your 8 dollar post?!  I didn't get any answers about it because she birthed her baby right soon after and it seemed rude to press for more info when I had to spend some obligatory time gushing about the new slimy baby wriggling around on her tummy.

I actually had to deliver said slimy baby barefoot.  Well, not totally, I did have shoe covers on:

Please don't turn me into OSHA!  You see, I had worn a dress to the office on Friday and didn't pack my regular work shoes.  Therefore, when I got stuck at the hospital instead of coming home, I begged my sweet lover to bring me my work shoes so I didn't have to deliver babes in high heels.  Unfortunately, he forgets lots of stuff I ask for so he came up to eat dinner... sans shoes.

I probably should have held a grudge, but instead I watched Moonrise Kingdom in the dark with him at my office.  Check it out, it feels almost scandalous!

Don't you dare accuse me of doing anything sexy!  If you had any idea about the type of stuff that falls onto every surface I work around, you would understand that no amount of Viagra could make anyone feel like getting it on in my office.  Sorry Marvin Gaye.  My lover went home without anything more than a goodnight kiss and I had to stay for more laboring ladies.

The next afternoon, I finally finished my birthing duties and Jared was supposed to meet me at my folks to watch the Utah game and bring me some shoes.  He forgot the stupid shoes again, so we went home and he appeased me with a romantic dinner at Olive Garden with his five rat kids while shouting the game scores over the Saturday night din.  

Not a bad 48 hours I guess.  My low back is a little sore from standing barefoot on the hospital floors for 2 days, but my tummy is still satisfied from shrimp and chicken carbonara and WAY too many Olive Garden breadsticks.  Plus, when I see the ghost writer for her follow up, I've decided to ask her if she can help me get famous a little faster with my blog.  I've got 8 bucks I can spare...