When last we spoke of this day, it was…5am.
Nurse says, “try to rest”. I inform her I may want to get up and move…I’m not really tired because now I’m wide awake and trying to adjust to the reality that this is going to happen.
I try to nap. It’s still dark out.
Napping is stupid and also, not a thing I’m good at. Husband and I chat. We discuss how I’ll likely be able to watch the OSU game while laboring, since they play around 3pm, even though the TV in the labor room is pretty low-quality. We play with our phones.
At some point, Husband realizes he left his alarm clock set for 8am in our house. (eyeroll, of course) So he calls his dad and asks him to drive to our condo and turn it off. “Why?” “Oh. Because we’re at the hospital. But don’t worry, nothing’s happening.”
We start to listen to a Catholic In A Small Town podcast for a while, but I get bored of laying in bed. “Let’s take a walk.”
Laps of the labor/delivery floor begin. Why not walk? At this point, I’m having what can best be described as those twinge-y menstrual cramps you get that suck, but eventually go away. These are apparently contractions. Oh. That’s not so bad.
Walk a lap. Pause, lean against a wall when a “contraction” hits, walk more. Repeat ad nauseam.
Take a break from walking. Try to nap. Not happening. Meh. Drink ginger ale. “Should we call people? No. Too early.”
New nurse on shift. Puts me in bed to check the baby with the fetal monitor. Contractions are still happening, but not a huge deal. Still cramp-esque, just…crampier. Baby is doing fine.
MOAR LAPS, SHE SAYS. So we go walking again. Contractions are a wee bit less fun, but still don’t last that long and the time in between is absolutely normal, so whatevs.
“I’m done walking for now. I wanna try to lie down.” Realization: these contractions suck more when laying down. Try to work through them sitting up. Call my mom. “We’re here. I’m sure it’ll take forever but at least things are happening…pray for us!!!”
Doctor comes in, as she’s preparing to leave and a different on-call doctor is starting her turn for the day. Informed this will be a loooong drawn out process. At some point they may have to give me pitocin if we don’t get a move on, due to the leaking fluid, etc. Doc says I have several hours before that point. Reminds us “you will probably be here for a while”. Lets us know “it might even go until tomorrow.”
Things start getting blurry around this time. All of a sudden, contractions suck. The inbetween isn’t bad, but I’m sweating and icky and they aren’t fun or easy anymore and good grief, if this is “early labor” then WOW THE REST OF THIS IS GOING TO SUCK.
Nurse is back. “It’s been an hour…let’s see how baby’s doing in there.” Puts me on monitors. “How are your contractions?” They really suck. Nurse puts contraction monitor back on me. Baby’s doing fine.
Admit to nurse: “It feels like…I’m supposed to push.”
Nurse: “What? NO. No. Don’t push. Let me check what’s going on there… Oh. Ok. You’re…8cm. And…fully effaced. And..baby is really low. Ok. Let’s get the doctor… Did you want an epidural? Let’s get the anesthetist in here…”
[Stage cue: start moving big stuff around the room.]
Keep talking about getting the doctor in here. Repeatedly say DON’T PUSH. Instruct Husband to hold my hands, tell me to squeeze, oh and bythewayma’am DON’T PUSH. PS… DON’T PUSH OR YOU COULD BURST YOUR CERVIX. [What does that even mean?!!?!]
Anesthetist is here. Husband is booted from the room, for a sterile environment. All goes according to plan. Anesthetist: “I went from having you sit up in the bed to done in 12 minutes. That might be my fastest.” ‘Well, I’m happy to help you set a record.’
[Soundtrack: DON’T PUSH DON’T PUSH DON’T PUSH]
“Where is the doctor?!! Get her in here!”
Nurse: “Let’s see how you’re doing…oh. You’re fully ready to go. Ok. Let’s get the doctor in here. I’m not delivering this baby. You hear me? I don’t want to deliver this baby!”
Nurse: “WHERE IS THE HUSBAND SOMEONE GO GET THE HUSBAND”
Nurse: “Do you have a phone? Can you call him?” [nurse finds my phone wherever Husband threw it]
Phone call to husband.
“Get your ass back here I’m about to push out a baby”
Text to mom: “Pray now. Starting to push.”
Text from mom: “What?????”
Text to mom: “It’s brian now. It’s gappening”
N.B.: Typos? We ain’t got time to fix that
Doctor’s here. “Let’s try a practice push..okay, stop practicing. Let’s do this for real. Okay? Ok.”
She’s a girl!
-repeated “Thank you Jesus”es [me]
-complete lack of awareness of anything except this not-so-tiny human laying on my chest
-Everything Changing Forever, For Good