So there I was, in the lobby of the hospital becoming my I-am-woman-hear-me-roar self. The nurse looked up at me as if coming out of an over-worked fog and said with wide eyes, “Oh. Okay, ma'am.” She got up from her seat to come around and open the door to the maternity wing. I was walked into the closest triage room so they could check my progress. My husband and I knew the routine so we walked right in and took our places. He walked around the bed to lay the bags down and I climbed onto the bed and took everything off except my sports bra. I was in my unfettered zone; there were no rules of decency or proper etiquette that could contradict my primal, birth brain...