I’ll never forget the interaction in the parking lot with a lighthearted older dude. “Ready to get home?” he joked to the pregnant woman propped over the wheelchair. I gave a snarky laugh. Man, if only you knew I’m just getting started. Maybe I should have faked some serious labor pains and noises to rattle his jovial manner. But, I decided not everybody needs my explanation at a time like this.
The clouds hung low outside and also in my head on that Friday, November 6th. It was an energy-less day because of strong abdominal pains I was experiencing recently. Maxed out on high fiber foods- cereal, salad, Metamucil and Miralx, I was convinced I was severely constipated (which google confirmed is normal for third trimester pregnant peoples – thank God for google, right?) In all my efforts for relief, nothing seemed to be working. My sister-in-law stopped by to see how I was doing that afternoon and randomly joked that I might end up having this baby at home!
I knew what contractions were from my previous pregnancy and this was not that! I thought.
Thankfully her off-handed comment was enough to prod my conscience. Later, as I reluctantly started supper, I couldn’t get her words out of my head.
The pain was reoccurring more often by then and finally my stubborn self decided to time these darn things just to see if they might really be contractions. To my horror (and full delight!) as I bent over and clung to the counter, the pain was consistent, every 3-5 min, for the next hour.
It was time.
Jason came home around 6 as usual. Seeing his wife in pain with her bags packed and ready is enough to make any husband move fast. He quickly showered and dropped Gavin off with family. Half an hour later we were on the road to the hospital in Waco.
Checking in I was only dilated at three. An hour later I was still the same. The nurse asked if I was up for walking, which I wasn’t, but complied anyway. I did not want to go home and try to sleep with contractions and a really low baby.
After a short time they checked me again and I progressed to a six. Walking was the magic juice.
“Would you like an epidural?” asked the nurse.
“Oh, I’d love to be the tough girl and not get one but I’m so tired of this pain – YES!”
But, by gosh, if only we had time for that.
We settled into a room. After I don’t know how many contractions for a full blown nine minutes, I was too exhausted to sit up for the epidural injection. With help I was hoisted upright and that was the final straw. Like maybe two minutes of trying to get into position for the needle I feel over in the bed and just. had. to. p u s h.
At 9:57PM, three hours after arriving at the hospital, our sweet southern bell, Cali Anne was born. It was a quick delivery from the time I feel over in bed and started pushing until they said, “It’s a girl!”
Luckily I didn’t have a long labor. Like 5 minutes. Gavin, my first, came in like 20 minutes of pushing. I think I prefer quick.
Labor is something you go into and take what you get. You have no guarantee that everything will work out fast and smooth and as pain free as you’d wish. The thing about a fast delivery was that it was very painful with no epidural. Burning pain that I didn’t experience with child number one.
But, what I did like about it was after she was born I was totally with it and wanted to hold my baby. With Gavin I was too exhausted afterwards.
I am absolutely grateful for a quick delivery. I am so sorry if your story is or has been different. Labor and delivery really is a curse from the beginning of mankind.
My addreniline maxed out until about 1:30AM after all the visitors left, Gavin met his new baby sister and we could finally bed down for the night. It was a sleepless night none the less with rounds of nursing and a tube in my personal space that pumped fluid into my already swelling hands and feet through a viciously taped needle on my arm. Why on earth – I don’t know. The nursing I get. The two bags of fluid? Isn’t just one bag enough?
Cali has so far been a model baby. She eats and sleeps like a champ. Recently she started spitting up and it’s partly my fault I feel because I’m not in the habit of burping her yet. The few times I do remember to burp her she doesn’t burp and after I lay her down she’ll do a whole lot more damage than an innocent burp. I’m sure you get the picture.
I can hardly believe today she is two weeks old! The days went slow but fast all the same. I’m suspicious that will be the story of my life with kids. Next thing I’ll blink and my two year old will be boarding a school bus. Ack!!