Now that I am about 8 1/2 months removed from this, I think I can write about it with a little bit of perspective. It was raw for a long time.
So, Baby R was due on August 30th. I'd calculated that she was due on August 25th. My awesome doctor agreed that she needed to come much before either of those dates just to make sure we snuck her in for the school cut-off date. I liked that doctor. DH was out of town at Scout Camp (scheduled before he was called to be the Scoutmaster) from Aug 12th-17th. I started working from home that week in order to minimize my movements in the days that DH was pretty much unreachable and unable to get back home with anything less than 5 hours' notice.
That week went fine surprisingly. I had a scare one night but I was able to lay down on my side, drink a lot of water, and will the contractions to stop. Shocking, I know. I did have back up plans in place and people I would call just in case too. Fortunately I didn't need them.
We celebrated our anniversary the night of the 17th (the 18th was Sunday) by going out to dinner at the fancy El Torreador and eating DQ Blizzards afterward (fancy, I know). For the baby of course. On Sunday we went to M&M's house for dinner and talked about how the baby could really come anytime now! DH had cleared his work schedule and all could be right in the world.
I went to the dr. bright and early Monday morning (the 19th for those keeping score at home). We won't touch on the weight that was happening on the scale (let's just say I hope to never see those numbers again) and focus on the more important facts. I was dilated to a 3 and 50% effaced (I've walked around at a 3 for weeks, though, so nothing too crazy) so she offered to strip my membranes. I happily agreed and she said she'd either see me in about 24 hours to deliver a baby or the following week for my appointment.
I started feeling contractions almost as soon as I left the dr's office. But, they were so irregular. I even recall going to Fred Meyer for a few groceries and having contractions as I walked the aisles. I was sure it was because she had just checked me and that they'd stop. And, they kind of did in the afternoon. I worked a little bit and went on a walk around the neighborhood. Tyler and I usually walk the curbs when I'm in labor, but I never really got to that point during the day. We had Family Night that night and got everyone in bed by about 8:30 or 9. I remember looking at the clock at 9:00 and telling DH I was going to lie down because I wasn't feeling so hot and I wanted to time my contractions.
They were 9 minutes apart. Hmm. That's how they were when I went into labor with Sadie. 9 minutes at the start and I didn't have her for another 20 hours or so. I didn't think much of it the night of the 19th when I told Tyler's parents (who called to check on me) that they were 9 minutes apart but were super sporadic too (the next one was 20 minutes later). On and off, on and off. I downloaded a stopwatch app on my phone. Super helpful that night. Have only used it since when I do planks. Important fact to know.
The time passed with the contractions all over the map. 9 minutes. 7 minutes. 16 minutes. 20 minutes. Back to 8 minutes. It was crazy and I never really decided that I was "in labor." I kept thinking they'd stop altogether, I'd go to sleep and have a good night's rest. DH decided to go to bed around midnight. I told him I wouldn't be too far behind, but that he should go sleep in the other room just in case I didn't sleep much (somebody should get some sleep in our house). I turned off the light at 12:30 AM. I turned the light back on at 12:50 AM. 2 contractions later, I wasn't going to sleep anytime soon. And, they were kind of painful!
Meanwhile, I was texting with Darcy who had texted me earlier the morning of the 19th that she was heading in to the hospital to have her baby! I hadn't heard from her since the morning so I decided to check on her since I was up. Her baby was a bit stuck and she was exhausted. We kept texting, though. I told her I was having contractions, but, again, never really declared I was in labor. I was in denial for some strange reason. I think it's because I don't like false alarms and being sent away from the hospital.
By 2:00 AM I could no longer lie/sit through my contractions (6 minutes apart pretty consistently at that point) so I decided to get up and do something. "Maybe I should pack a bag, just in case," I thought to myself. **Side note: I have NO idea why I even bother packing a toiletry bag with make up, a blow dryer, and other beautification products in it. I've never once blown dry my hair after having a baby and I only put make up on to leave the hospital (but it's a lot like putting lipstick on a pig - completely futile at that point because it's just plain ugly). Such a waste.**
I changed out of my pajamas and put some "normal" clothes on. I think I even took a shower. I know I put make up on -
just in case. And, I added my handy dandy pearls to my earlobes and called it good. No woman should have to give birth without earrings. I even took some selfies of my belly and my "pre-delivery" largesse. It wasn't pretty. All this while my contractions got to 2 minutes apart. Finally at 3 AM I decided to call the hospital. I was put on the line with Teresa, the triage nurse.
"Hi, this is Whitney Seamons, and I'm calling to let you know that I'm in labor with my 4th baby, my contractions are 2 minutes apart and I'm thinking I should come in."
"Ok. How long are your contractions lasting?"
"Um, about 45 seconds or so"
"Ok. And, what were you at at your last dr. appt?"
"I was dilated to a 3. I went this morning and Dr. Chien stripped my membranes."
"And, are you lying down?"
"No, I could no longer do that as of an hour ago. I have to walk around for them."
"Have you had a contraction since we've been on the phone?"
"Yes, one. And, it hurt."
"Well, you were still able to talk through it."
"Um, I guess so. I'm trying my best to keep functioning but I'm in pain."
"Hmm. Well, you're more than welcome to come in. It's totally up to you. BUUUUUTTT, we usually like your contractions to be lasting at least a minute, and they're probably so close together because you've been up walking around. So, you can come in and.we'll probably have you walk around the hospital and try to get you farther along. Which you're MORE than welcome to do. Or, you could just go back to your room, lie back down, drink a lot of water and see if they get farther apart again. I mean, it's totally up to you."
Here's what I was thinking: "Well, it IS 3:00 in the morning and I can let DH keep sleeping and it's probably not going to happen for a while anyway, and I DEFINITELY do NOT want to go walk around the hospital at this hour when I can just lie in my bed. I guess I'll do that."
"Ok. I'll call you back if anything changes. Thanks."
I go lie down on my bed and my next contraction comes HARD and lasts for 1 minute but it's been 6 minutes. I start reading emails and articles on my phone (when I'm not running the stop watch app to time my contractions) to distract me, but there's no distracting during the contractions. Not even 20 minutes later, I am sitting on the edge of my bed because I can no longer lie down through the contractions. So, I lie down for 5 minutes, sit up and bounce and have a contraction. At this point I KNOW I'm in labor but I don't want to wake up DH JUST YET.
At 3:30 or 3:40 I remember sitting on the edge of my bed bouncing and breathing through a contraction and starting to feel my legs shaking and feeling very nauseous and wanting to throw up. I thought I'd just drunk too much water on an empty stomach. Maybe I should take another sip. That didn't help either so I laid back down. I later realized that's what people call transition. I should really have been at a hospital for that. That's neither here nor there now, however. Around 4 AM I started moaning pretty loud, I guess, because DH came walking in and asked if I wanted to go to the hospital.
"I don't know!! I just called an hour ago and the nurse told me it was up to me, but I should probably just lie back down because I'd have to walk the halls of the hospital and I really don't want to do that, so maybe I should wait a few more minutes."
"But, you seem to be in a lot of pain."
"I am. They really hurt and I can't even talk or walk through them. I have to pause, have the contraction, and then go back to walking."
"Well, maybe we should go."
I have 1 more really hard, painful contraction and I subsequently agree.
It's now 4:20 AM. DH says he's going to pop downstairs, take the camera off the charger and let Fely know that we're heading to the hospital. I call my friend, Teresa, the triage nurse, and tell her I'm now coming and she can't tell me otherwise.
DH is messing around with something on the camera and I tell him that we need to go so I'll just drive myself to the hospital (Crazy Town had officially set in). He told me that would not be the case and he's coming but he needed to tell Fely. I told him to call her from the car and I would be in the car. We left and he started to speedily back down the driveway while I was trying to adjust the seat. It was too far forward. As he flew down the driveway, the seat flew all the way back and I was completely flat on my back and screaming that it hurt too much and went too far back. Owwww!!!! It's funny now, but it wasn't funny then.
He drove the hospital like a possessed NYC taxi driver. I couldn't believe he even stopped at the 1 red light we hit. I wasn't paying very good attention because I told him to go straight where he should have turned. I wasn't in a great frame of mind at this point. I was in serious pain.
We pulled up to the circle outside the maternity ward at 4:55. He called someone to let them know we were there (the doors were locked), because apparently they forgot I had called 15 minutes before to let them know we were coming. Someone came and let us in and I had to stop on the way back to the Maternity Unit to have a contraction. I walked into the unit and asked for my epidural. We got to the registration desk (don't worry, Teresa was still on duty and met us there), and they were still printing some stuff out for my bracelet and I had to turn away and have another contraction and they told me that needed to check me before they could order an epidural.
"Please, can you just order it now? I know I'll be far enough along to have it and the anesthesiologist should be there once you've checked me if you order it now."
After what seemed like forever they handed me my arm bracelet and, wouldn't you know, it had the wrong doctor's name on it. Seriously? I said, "No, that's not my doctor!" As if it mattered at that point! But, they still needed to re-do it and 2 minutes later I had a new, correct armband. Teresa told me to follow her down the hall to a room. There they would check me. I stopped along the way to have a contraction and she proceeded to tell me to "take your time and just breathe" in the most annoyingly calm, soothing voice I'd ever heard.
Got into the room and she handed me a gown to change into, some socks to put on, and a urine sample cup. Seriously? A sample? Well, yes, they need a sample. I'd never had to do that before.
I said, "Teresa, if I sit down on that toilet, there's a high probability that I will not get off of it. Too much pain!"
"Well, please just go ahead and try!"
I had just gone to the bathroom at home, so I'm not sure there was anything there but I sat and truly worried that baby would come out in the toilet. Somehow I managed to get up. I just needed to get on the hospital bed so they could check me and I could get my epidural.
I flopped myself on the bed in a not-very-upright position assuming I wouldn't be there for long. Teresa finally checked me.
She looked at Tyler (who was standing on my right at this point) and said, "Well, she's at a 9 and her sac is bulging." She looked at the other nurse and said, "Go get the Dr" "She's in the OR," said the other nurse. "Get her out of the OR." Ummmmm....my epidural???
"I don't think we're going to have time for that."
I. DIED. Right. There. How in the world did it get to this? I CALLED YOU 2 HOURS AGO!!! This could have all been very easily avoided.
But, no. Now I was in a bit of panic mode and in so much pain. I could not be calmed as they prepped the room almost instantaneously for a birth. It happened so fast yet it seemed so so slow and long at the time.
They propped me up on the bed a little bit, got my legs in the stirrups, I had a few more contractions, at one point one of the nurses tried to get the fetal monitor under my back to no avail (it hurt too much to try to lift my back up). The ceiling opened and the light came on and down (in hindsight it was probably completely apropos to something straight out of the Hunger Games).
Dr. Brumfiel came in the room, threw her gown and gloves on. I was screaming at this point. Teresa told me to open my eyes and look at her. Seriously? This woman. I believe I told DH all sorts of things he didn't want to hear, he claims I swore (which I really didn't - all I said was Holy He** - that's NOT that bad). She poked the bulging sac and told me to push with the next contraction. Which I did. And, I promptly told them to "GET HER OUT!!!" Sweet mother of ring of fire. That hurt. They said she was so close and I was doing so well. And, she had hair. Thank you. All details I did not need at that moment.
"Go ahead and push one more time with your next contraction, Whitney, " said the good doctor.
"It HURTS SO BAD!!"
"Never mind. Just push now."
And, she was out. They put her on my chest, she started to cry a soft little cry and all I could sob was, "You Stinker!"
It was 5:05 AM. 15 minutes from door to delivery. Not a record I'm particularly proud of, but we made it.
And she was so cute. And smelled so so good. And had the smallest little head - it sure didn't feel that way, but thank the heavens.
And she was tiny. 6 lbs 15 oz. 20 3/4 inches long. And then DH went to go move the car out of the circle and grab the real camera he'd left in the car in the mad dash to get inside.
I joined a club I had thought I might want to join, but am not really so sure why I wanted to after all. Natural birth is brutal. :) We sure love our Baby R, though. She's growing up way too fast. More on her later.
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