Empathy labor pains

UPDATE
4:45 p.m. Finally. Welcome to the world Haven Ruth Coleman :)

2:34 p.m. BAAAAABY! She had a 8-lb. baby girl. "Doing great." Still don't know name.

1:18 p.m. The doctor was in the room, and it could be anytime.

My high school best friend, Nicole, is having a baby today. I talked to her on the phone last night for a long time to entertain her so she wasn't just sitting there freaking out thinking about the fact that in less than 12 hours she'd be in the worst pain of her life.

I thought I'd be a good friend this morning so while she is laying in a hospital bed cursing the fact Eve ate that damn apple, and I am typing emails peacefully at work, I decided to be empathetic and read about what's she is going through as I type this. So I read about the hormone they are giving her to induce labor. Fine, fine. Just an IV.

I move on to the stages of labor after induced. All fine, scary, but fine. I keep reading and get to the part about the episiotomy. I already know what this is. But everytime I hear about it I get queasy. So I am reading and my face is turning the color of my green shirt, and I am crossing my legs as tightly as possible apparently afraid that a obgyn might come out of no where and try to give me one.

Nicole is tougher than me. In high school, we were in charge of the StuCo blood drive. We did great with the planning and getting it done. She decides to give blood, and just like today, I try to be the supportive friend. I am holding her hand while they put the needle in and am totally fine. I am holding her hand tight and then when she starts to need a washcloth on her face because she is getting lightheaded, so do I. I end up laying on the floor next to her, still holding her hand. I just don't breathe when I am scared so getting lightheaded is a bit inevitable.

With this pattern in our friendship, I can only expect that this afternoon I will be feeling the pains of "a watermelon pushed through a garden hose" as Matt says.