Initial Post: 9:07 AM
We’ll be semi-live blogging all day, so check back for updates (they’ll be added as updates to this post, so sorry, RSS won’t keep you in the loop).

We woke up this morning at 5 to call the hospital and make sure our scheduled 7AM time slot was still open. They said it would be 7:30 instead, so we hit snooze. Candice had a nice hot bath, and I went out to shovel the driveway (the neighbors shoveled, so I pretty much had to, despite the less than 1″ of accumulation). We ended up about a half hour late, but no biggie; Nicholas is already 2 weeks late.

We’ve been complaining about the floating due date for some time. When we got to the hospital, they asked us what the due date was, and we of course didn’t really know. So they looked at the chart, and saw that the due date was the 4th, and the 15th. Thank God the nurses over here at Carle are competent.

UPDATE: 9:36 AM
Our nurse is Betsy, and she’s being shadowed by a nursing student (1st year) named Lydia. We’re about to meet Dr. Haug (pronounced like Hague, as in Le Hague near Germany). I’m using Candice’s Macbook to blog, because although I brought my laptop, and although it’s getting an IP address from the wireless network, it’s dropping all packets and reporting ridiculous errors. Yay, Linux?

This room is really cool. It’s got all hardwood floors, it’s HUGE, and it has a TV and DVD player. When we first got here, it was tuned to Lifetime. Mama Solomon mercifully changed it to TLC, and since then we’ve been watching some show about people having babies. There’s also a hospital bed, nice recliner, couch, and of course all sorts of medical equipment.

Mama Solomon said I should share my Nicholas Birthday Song. I think you can guess the tune.
Happy birthday to you
You live in a womb
We’re gonna see you soon
Happy birthday to you

And the doctor has arrived….

UPDATE: 10:08 AM
Dr. Haug has done more work in 5 minutes than Dr. Smith did in 9 months. He came in, asked Candice questions, asked Mama Solomon questions, examined Candice, ordered a drip, asked if we had any questions, and then — here’s the shocker — answered those questions. Is this what health care is supposed to be like?

They fitted Candice with an RFID tag, and they’ll give one to Nicholas once he’s born. If you don’t know what RFID means, think Baby Lojack. Of course, it’s just an arm band, so it’s not permanent; just for while he’s in the hospital. No switched at birth Lifetime special for us, thanks!

Candice just asked me to move the baby monitor arm so she could see the heart rate and contraction monitor from her bed. She got very nervous about me breaking it. Rightfully so, I might add; I am notorious for breaking expensive equipment. Fortunately, the radial arm is not expensive enough, and it survived. Strutzby die-hards my recall such episodes as the $400,000 furnace (which I broke on the day that I met Candice), or the $1 million dollar stepper.

The drugs are in, but are expected to take “some time” to work. How much time, we ask? “Quite some time,” they say.

UPDATE: 10:35 AM
So we’re playing Phase 10 and listening to the radio (daytime TV is apparently crappy), and Candice has a contraction. She doesn’t know she’s having it, because she can’t feel it, but the monitor thing shows it. Then she’s like “Hey, there’s liquid!” But it isn’t the water breaking, it’s just jelly from the baby heart monitor thingy.

I’m stuck with only one phase done, and everyone else has two. So interruptions are OK by me.

By the by, we’re in room 1008 at Carle, north clinic, north tower. Please don’t come by trying to snatch the baby; we have Baby Lojack, and you will be caught. But if you want to bring cookies or soda (after all the prepacking and double checks, I forgot my 2-liter), please feel free to stop by. There’s lots of room.

UPDATE: 10:48 AM
So Candice’s water broke. Well, not really broke; it sprang a slow leak. Candice is very relieved, because “Thank God I’m not just peeing on myself.” Myself, I’m waiting for the Bloody Show. I imagine it will be something like at the end of Spaceballs, when the alien (from Alien) busts out of that guys stomach, and starts singing ragtime while strolling up and down the lunch counter with a cane and a straw hat.

Mama Solomon assures me it won’t be anything like that.

There’s been a shift change. Betsy is done, and now our nurse is Kim.

UPDATE: 11:42 AM
It’s like the Blair Witch project right now. Nothing’s happening.

My mom is on her way with lunch, and Phase 10 has gone better for me in the last few rounds. But I’m live blogging the baby, not the Phase 10 game, so, yeah, Blair Witch.

UPDATE: 12:14 PM
Candice’s contractions are now about 5 to 7 minutes apart. Every once in a while she’ll get two in a row. They still aren’t causing any pain, and therefore are not likely causing any further dilation. At last check, which was some time ago, she’s at a bit over 2 centimeters.

Phase 10 is still going on. I have somehow managed to take the lead, with only three phases left. Mama Solomon and Candice are stuck on 4 phases to go. We’re playing the deluxe version, where you can pick which phase you’re going to do after each deal.

And now, lunch is here!

UPDATE: 12:49 PM
Lunch was delicious, thanks mom.

Contractions are now more regular, but still not that strong.

Last night, Candice and I went out for Chinese food. I had hot and sour soup, and it was excellent. Candice asked me what hot and sour soup tasted like. I said it was hot, and sour. She wanted further explanation, so I said ya know how sweet and sour sauce is kinda sweet and kinda sour? Well, it’s like that, except that instead of the sweet, it’s hot.

But back to the point. Candice’s fortune cookie said “Don’t put off until tomorrow what you can enjoy today.” And then she didn’t go into labor. The Chinese may be very wise, but I think their predictive skills are greatly overblown.

For completeness, my fortune said something about having a long and happy life, or some such crap. My Chinese word was Cucumber, and Candice’s was Carrot. Our lucky number were 4, 8, 15, 16, 23, and 42.

Just kidding.

UPDATE: 1:59 PM
The Phase 10 game is finally over. Mama Solomon won. She tried to use a Skip for the final color phase, but we wouldn’t let her. It didn’t matter, as she drew a blue card on the next turn and went out. We weren’t keeping points, so even though I was only one phase away and could have potentially tied, we didn’t bother.

The contractions are now regularly one to two minutes apart and getting stronger. Nurse Kim says that they don’t like to check the dilation often for fear of infections and stuff, so they likely won’t check again until Candice says she wants pain killers, or when bleeding starts. Nurse in Training Lydia has gone home (or to class), and so might have a new test-nurse for the next four hours. S/he hasn’t come in yet, so we’ll see. While Lydia was here, she checked Candice’s urine level on a pH stick, and apparently read it correctly (Nurse Betsy told her she did very well).

Dad stopped by and brought me some beverages. Thanks Dad! Mom left to go do some Executor of Estate stuff. Everyone will return later, when things begin to heat up. Current estimates are between 5 and 6. Now taking all bets!

Up next, Mama Solomon is threatening to take a nap, and suggested I read to Candice. I guess we’ll be getting to know all about the Golden Compass, because the only other book we have on hand is Manga Messiah. If that sounds to you like Comic Book Jesus, then you’re very intuitive, because that’s basically what it is. But don’t tell any of the Anime kids I said that. Anyway, the graphic novel format doesn’t really lend itself so well to reading aloud.

UPDATE: 2:33 PM
New Test-Nurse is named Aaron. Everyone is giving me mad props for considering that it might be a male nurse, and it in fact is. He’s very good at getting blankets.

Nurse Kim promised Candice a cherry Popsicle. After eating our sandwiches, we left plain old regular chips, Candice’s favorite, sitting in plain sight. Candice made us lock them up in the TV cabinet because she couldn’t stand looking at them anymore, so the Popsicle offer was well received. However, they’ve run out! So now we’re waiting for the cafeteria to deliver more Popsicles.

Apparently Popsicle is a brand name, because Firefox is making me capitalize the P.

UPDATE: 3:31 PM
I just spent another 30 minutes or so trying to fix my Linux network, to no avail. I did manage to get the Gnome manager to recognize a bad Internet connection, but all it did was kill Gnome.

It should be noted that Candice hasn’t had any pain medication. The only drug she’s been given is Pitocin, a certain brand of oxytocin, which is used to induce the labor. They keep asking what her pain level is on one to ten, and she keeps saying two. Mama Solomon keeps reminding everyone that for most people, Candice’s 2 is really an 8. I said that if it was me, I’d probably report a 14.

We didn’t anticipate the response to open bets that we’ve had. Due to popular demand, we’re currently attempting to raise some stakes. Stakes, as in rewards, not as in delicious meat slabs. Although delicious meat slabs would make for some pretty good stakes. More on that later.

Apparently this live blog is being promoted on Vet Med mailing lists. We should have sold ad space for today; we’re going to easily clear our high mark for hits and bandwidth used. We could have used the money raised to buy some stakes. Or steaks. Or maybe we should just make this betting arrangement a Winner Take All.

Mama Solomon is taking some pictures of the room now. If we need something to do later, we might post them during the day. Of course, we will be following up with pictures and video at a later date anyway; the video camera is being saved for after the birth.

UPDATE: 4:03 PM
One of my jobs at the hospital is making sure the baby monitor stays out of screen saver. They have this cool program that measures the baby’s heart rate on one graph (making sure it stays between 120 and 140 bpm), and indicates contractions on another. Unfortunately, it’s running on a Windows 2000 computer, which is properly secured so I can’t turn off the screen saver. Thus, every three minutes I have to wiggle the mouse. I’m not very good at this job.

Mama Solomon just returned from the parking garage with some movies. We may be out of touch for a while after this post. Or we may not, depending on the movie quality. And the excitement of events in real life.

The Pitocin dose keeps getting steadily increased. They intentionally start out slowly, and increase as needed. Candice’s first contractions were coming in bunches of three, an effect which is known as (watch out for this highly-scientific definition) “tripling”. After they upped the dosage, the contractions were more evenly spaced, at about a minute and a half. The tripling has begun to start again, so they’ve upped the dosage once more. They’re currently at 15, with a maximum of 20.

And now it’s my job also to pick a movie. This is tricky; I have to pick something that’s reasonably entertaining so we’re not bored. However, if it’s too entertaining, or if it requires too much attention, we’ll be ignoring Candice and Nicholas. I picked Charlie Wilson’s War. I have a nagging suspicion that I’m about as good at this job as I am at the mouse wiggling job.

UPDATE: 5:19 PM
I mentioned this in the comments, but it really belongs here instead. When I say we’re watching Charlie Wilson’s War, what I mean is we’re watching Michael Clayton. I zoned out for about 20 minutes to talk to Mom (who brought 2 liters of soda, thanks Mom!) about mortgage refinancing. I am therefore suitably lost.

It appears that people have gotten off work and hit the site pretty hard; the server is really crawling along. It serves as an apt metaphor for the baby situation, as we’re still dragging through the 1 to 2 minutes between contractions, with the pain level still at a 2. The drip is now maxed out, so those who picked later times are looking smarter and smarter.

Nicholas keeps moving, which is keeping his heart monitor from registering properly. He’s settled down quite a bit in the last half hour, but for a while the on-call nurse was pretty much just hanging out with us. Candice wants to sit straight up, but the furniture will not abide; the bed will only incline up to 75 degrees, and the chairs either have no backs or are slightly inclined as well. We’ve got a whole bunch of pillows trying to act as proper back supports, which are acting suitably well.

UPDATE: 5:47 PM
It’s been a long time since we requested Popsicles, and they’re still not here. We’ve done everything but go down to the cafeteria ourselves. If we did that, though, we’d have to pay for the Popsicles, wait in line, take them up the elevator, blah blah blah, small violins, etc and so on. Mom decided to take some cranberry juice and mix it in with ice chips. The nurses weren’t around to OK this, but we figure it can’t be that much different from a Popsicle. What’s really funny is that when we ask for Popsicles, everyone’s big concern is “Oh no, I don’t know what flavors there are, is cherry OK?” ANY flavor is OK! Just get some flavored frozen water!

Hospital socks are GREAT. They have this crazy tread stuff on them to make sure they don’t slip. They’re incredibly warm. And most importantly, they stay up when you pull them up, but without cutting off circulation at the ankles. When Mom was last in the hospital, she asked where she could get these great socks. She was widely ignored, however, because she was on all sorts of painkillers. Now Candice is inquiring about these miracle socks, and since she’s not yet on any medication, I think I’m going to have to investigate further.

At the other end of the spectrum, hospital Kleenex sucks. It’s one ply, and incredibly rough. It’s kind of like the University toilet paper. I don’t know why the hospital would be so cheap with the Kleenex when everything else seems so lavish (here, take all the free pop you want; wait a minute, maybe they’re paying attention, and will charge us for that later!). The University uses cheap TP not only because it’s cheap, but also because it’s less likely to get clogged up in a toilet. Clogged toilets on campus would be a pretty big problem.

The weather has been really dry lately, even in the hospital itself, exacerbating the Kleenex conundrum. My snot is dripping out through the nose, requiring somewhat frequent blowing (no, I’m not sick; it’s clear snot, and a bit red, indicating how dry my sinuses are). Mama Solomon is not so lucky. Her snot is getting caught in her throat, leading to intermittent coughing fits. Of course then we have Papa Solomon (I’m still trying to figure out how to address him; suggestions?), who’s unfortunately laid up in University Park with the flu. And presumably better Kleenex.

UPDATE: 6:39 PM
I decided to head down to the cafeteria myself, because no one else was going to go. I took the elevator all the way down to the basement, and wandered over to the cafeteria. Once inside, I looked for Popsicles. I didn’t see any, so I asked an employee. Apparently, they don’t sell Popsicles to the general public. They sent me to a back room, and told me to knock on a plastic window where someone would assist me.

The three high school students in the back room were very cordial. They asked what flavor I wanted (cherry, grape, or orange), and how many. Then they asked if it was for a certain patient. I told them, and then one of them got on the phone. After about three minutes, the phone girl said “I’m sorry, she’s listed as NPO (whatever that means, I think No Popsicle, Orelse), and therefore can’t have one. Then everyone apologized, and gave me frowny faces.

I returned to the elevator, a long trek indeed, and somehow all the people that I’d met in the cafeteria beat me to the hall way. As I passed each one, they asked if I’d gotten what I was looking for, Popsicles and so forth. I had to give them all the bad news, and I got more “I’m sorry”s and “that’s too bad”s. It was pretty surreal, like I was in The Wiz or something.

I got back to the room and shared the sad news. Fortunately, Nurse Kim was there, and immediately picked up the phone. “I’m waiting for Popsicle restock up here in Labor and Delivery,” she boldly proclaimed. “We’ve been waiting for some time, and the case just hasn’t come. And while you’re at it, also please bring two cherry Popsicles directly to room 1008! Stat!”

Just kidding, she didn’t really say “stat”.

Apparently the Popsicle order got put in the wrong place, and therefore never got delivered. The person on the other end was very apologetic, and even said to “tell her husband that we’re so sorry about the mix up!”

Even if we didn’t get the Popsicles, I feel that my visit to the basement was worthwhile. I got to see an autoscrubber. For the unknowing masses, an autoscrubber is a machine that you push around the floor, and it basically mops for you. It’s got one or two buffing pads on the bottom, spits out soapy water from one tank, and uses a squeegee and vacuum hose to suck up the dirty water into another tank. I used to repair them when I was in college. This autoscrubber was especially cool, however, because it was a riding autoscrubber. That’s right, there was a seat on it.

Candice keeps saying she’s bored. I considered bringing a slingball, but thought better of it. Last time we had slingballs around small creatures, well, sling ferret was a lot more acceptable than sling baby.

And now the Popsicles are here! Hooray!

UPDATE: 7:44 PM
The Pitocin has maxed out, and is losing it’s effectiveness. They’re telling us that if the contractions don’t pick up, then they’ll have to cut off the IV or halve the dose. Apparently there’s a limit to how much of the drug your body can absorb. However, it also has a really short half-life. Therefore, if you’ve maxed out on it, they can cut you back, and then you can get a good effect after the short break.

Candice and I forgot to give away our Illini tickets for tonight. They’re playing Wisconsin in about 20 minutes. I imagine there are a lot of people in our boat. As in, people that don’t want to go to the game and didn’t bother to give away the tickets (or couldn’t find any takers), not as in people that aren’t going due to induced labor.

The full lunar eclipse is scheduled to start soon as well. Unfortunately, the moon’s on the other side of the hospital from where our room faces. I suppose we could take a little walk, but you know, I already went to get Popsicles….

UPDATE: 8:58 PM
They went ahead and knocked it up a notch (BAM), sending the drip to 26. The night shift nurse, Dawn, just came in and confirmed that they’re now authorized to go all the way up to 11. I mean 30. They can go up to 30.

The contractions are now just over a minute apart, and regular. They’re lasting longer too, between 30 seconds and a minute. It’s nice to have this high tech equipment; I would be pretty sick of using the stop watch by now.

We went over to the other side of the building to see the eclipse. We should make another sojourn about now, as it’s approaching totality. In fact, here we go.

UPDATE: 9:28 PM
The baby ain’t really diggin’ on this contraction jive. His heart rate has gone up, and he’s consistently up around 160 BPM. Nurse Dawn is unconcerned. We’re all starting to get a little loopy in here.

David, Omar, and I went across the hall to see what’s going on with the eclipse. Candice wanted me to take a picture. That went over about as well as a lead balloon.

Omar just pulled a toothbrush out of his pocket. I think I’ll let that stand on its own merits. Now we’re playing The Stick Game, um-kay. Omar can play The Stick Game, the stick game, the stick game. Omar can play the stick game, how ’bout you? The answer so far, is that none of us can.

UPDATE: 9:46 PM
We’re now discussing how strange it would be if Nicholas came out, and turned out to actually be Akilah (spelling not confirmed). It was, after all, Jerk Doctor who initially confirmed that it was a boy. This sparked a nice little discussion with our own Dr. Moreau, David. Apparently there’s a way to splice a fly’s genes so it grows an eye on its leg. This is relevant because, after having seen the sonogram, I wonder what kind of crazy thumb that could have been if this is in fact not a boy.

Phase 10 is once again in full effect.

UPDATE: 10:55 PM
The dilation has reached 3 cm, and 90% softness. The softness factor is important because when it reaches 100%, the cervix is much more free to dilate further. It is often said that after the 3 cm barrier, the rest goes very quickly. However, when I was born, my mom only ever got to 4 cm (in 20 hours) before I went into distress and had to be sliced out.

Meanwhile, the leaking continues. I was not exaggerating the “breaking water” as “slow leak” earlier. I’ll only really get worried if we start hearing the baby cry from within the womb. Of course, if you can hear him cry, that means he’s healthy, right?

Candice says that at this point, she would still be able to sleep through the contractions. The only way she’s authorizing a drip stoppage / reduction is if they allow her to get some food. That’s generally not recommended for during-labor, as it can greatly increase nausea. Just as taking an antibiotic makes your birth control pill not work, going into labor makes your digestive tract not work.

David made an interesting find just now. There’s a mobile baby cart in the room (David calls it the Baby Toaster), which has a built-in scale, measuring tape, oxygen, monitors, cloths, and so on. There’s a warning on the unit: DANGER! EXPLOSION HAZARD! Yeah, that’s where I want to put my newborn baby.

The induction drugs first started at 9:48 AM. That means we just entered Hour 14. Let this serve as a warning to all you wanna-be mothers! The novelty of the live blog has worn off, but I will continue, as long as I am awake.

UPDATE: 11:06 PM
The doctor has issued an order to have the drip turned off for the night. Nurse Dawn didn’t ask if she could eat yet (which means that I can eat too), but she’s sure it’s OK. Candice has also been ordered to take Ambien and Historol for sleep inducing, as he REALLY wants Candice to sleep. The IV is now out, and we just need to pick something to eat. The hospital has slim pickin’s at this hour. I think we’re going to go Taco Bell. Wow. Labor, and Taco Bell. Never mind, we’ve come to our senses, and we’re getting Niro’s Gyros.

This will conclude the live blog for this evening. We will resume in the morning, whenever Candice wakes up, or whenever they wake her up, or whenever Nicholas starts up. So good night, rest assured that you aren’t likely to miss anything until at least 9 tomorrow morning.