Just two weeks ago, the weather boys - excuse me, meteorologists - had been warning that the La Nina weather pattern this winter would mean a very warm, very dry winter. Ski areas, especially ones near our town on the western slope of the Rockies, were furiously making snow every night that temperatures even approached freezing. People were really starting to think that it was going to be a dismal winter for cold weather sport lovers in this area.
Then came last weekend. Around Thursday or Friday (the 16th or 17th) we started hearing news of a monumental storm hitting our friends in California and heading right toward us. There was a lot of clearing of throats, straightening of clip-on ties and backpedaling about La Nina within the weather boy community (WHAT!?! They still call them weather girls). We watched the radar and sure enough, that storm was coming right for us! It was still supposed to be quite a warm one (you know, because of La Nina and all) but it was also predicted to dump precipitation on us for days.
When you live at 9,000 feet, you can pretty much count on a mid-December storm - even a warm La Nina one - to dump snow, not rain.
We left for the hospital on Saturday evening (the 18th) because I was having contractions and it had just started snowing. I wanted to get checked out just in case I went into labor quick since it was our second baby (HA!). As it turned out I was just in early labor and not far enough along to be admitted. If I had been 39 weeks they would have offered to break my water, but since I was only 38 weeks and 4 days that wasn't an option. They did, however advise me not to go all the way home since we live a solid 40 minutes from the hospital in good driving conditions. Because of the coming snow, they really didn't want me that far away just in case I progressed quickly (have I already said, "HA!"?).
Since Sweet Baby Jones #2 decided to be stubborn, we ended up spending the next 4 nights at my parents' house. They live 20 minutes closer to the hospital and are patient enough to put up with three extra people (including a toddler who's decided to test her boundaries in preparation for the new baby) and a 90-pound yellow lab. I'm super grateful that they let us stay, even though I'm STILL not in labor. It would have been really, really stressful to be up there during this storm. As it was, Mark went up every other day to clear the driveway and our almost-professional-grade-snow-blower barely kept up!
So, get to the good stuff, Shell. How bad was the storm really? I mean, it couldn't have been that bad right?
Well, yes and no. Here in town (at about 6,500 feet) it was almost all rain, even at night. That is super weird for Durango. The roads were a little slick and slushy, but it was nothing that the good people of our fair city couldn't handle. Honestly, it felt a little bit like early spring.
At our house, on the other hand, it dumped a full four feet of snow in five days! It went from looking like mid-October to mid-February in less than a week. The storm was really warm (what was the name of that weather pattern again?) so the snow was heavy and wet. It was tough to clear, not that I had to clear any - thank goodness for my amazing husband! - and it compacted pretty quickly.
To give you a basic idea of the kind of pummeling we got, our roof was almost completely clear when we left the house on Saturday. There was a light dusting, but probably 95% of the shingles were visible. When we came back home on Wednesday, our house looked like this:
I took this photo from the heated comfort of the truck, hence the water droplets. And yes, that is Mark shoveling a path for his hugely pregnant wife to waddle down the driveway before he busted out the snow blower for the fourth time in five days. Have I mentioned how grateful I am for him?
So as uncomfortable as I am, as annoying as 4 to 6 contractions every hour for a week has been, and as much as I would have liked to have already had this baby, I'm super glad that I don't have a "you were born in Daddy's truck on the way to the hospital in the middle of a blizzard" story.
After all, I'd hate for my kid's middle name to be "La Nina", especially if it happens to be a boy.
We left for the hospital on Saturday evening (the 18th) because I was having contractions and it had just started snowing. I wanted to get checked out just in case I went into labor quick since it was our second baby (HA!). As it turned out I was just in early labor and not far enough along to be admitted. If I had been 39 weeks they would have offered to break my water, but since I was only 38 weeks and 4 days that wasn't an option. They did, however advise me not to go all the way home since we live a solid 40 minutes from the hospital in good driving conditions. Because of the coming snow, they really didn't want me that far away just in case I progressed quickly (have I already said, "HA!"?).
Since Sweet Baby Jones #2 decided to be stubborn, we ended up spending the next 4 nights at my parents' house. They live 20 minutes closer to the hospital and are patient enough to put up with three extra people (including a toddler who's decided to test her boundaries in preparation for the new baby) and a 90-pound yellow lab. I'm super grateful that they let us stay, even though I'm STILL not in labor. It would have been really, really stressful to be up there during this storm. As it was, Mark went up every other day to clear the driveway and our almost-professional-grade-snow-blower barely kept up!
So, get to the good stuff, Shell. How bad was the storm really? I mean, it couldn't have been that bad right?
Well, yes and no. Here in town (at about 6,500 feet) it was almost all rain, even at night. That is super weird for Durango. The roads were a little slick and slushy, but it was nothing that the good people of our fair city couldn't handle. Honestly, it felt a little bit like early spring.
At our house, on the other hand, it dumped a full four feet of snow in five days! It went from looking like mid-October to mid-February in less than a week. The storm was really warm (what was the name of that weather pattern again?) so the snow was heavy and wet. It was tough to clear, not that I had to clear any - thank goodness for my amazing husband! - and it compacted pretty quickly.
To give you a basic idea of the kind of pummeling we got, our roof was almost completely clear when we left the house on Saturday. There was a light dusting, but probably 95% of the shingles were visible. When we came back home on Wednesday, our house looked like this:
I took this photo from the heated comfort of the truck, hence the water droplets. And yes, that is Mark shoveling a path for his hugely pregnant wife to waddle down the driveway before he busted out the snow blower for the fourth time in five days. Have I mentioned how grateful I am for him?
So as uncomfortable as I am, as annoying as 4 to 6 contractions every hour for a week has been, and as much as I would have liked to have already had this baby, I'm super glad that I don't have a "you were born in Daddy's truck on the way to the hospital in the middle of a blizzard" story.
After all, I'd hate for my kid's middle name to be "La Nina", especially if it happens to be a boy.
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