On 7/13 in the morning, I'd given up. I wasn't wanting to have an induction, but G was leaving on the 18th and I was running out of time, and frankly, I was in a lot of hip and back pain. I posted on FB that I gave up, she was never coming out and I'd be pregnant forever. That night, I went to the bathroom and discovered bloody show, which is usually a pretty good sign that labor and delivery is right around the corner, so I was excited. I had 2 contractions in the night that woke me up, but once I realized what was going on, I just went back to sleep. At about 4 am, I couldn't just go back to sleep anymore, so I went to the living room to ride out the contractions until a more decent hour. I had an appointment that morning, on the 14th, for thyroid testing, and it was pretty early so I didn't anticipate problems with that. I figured afterwards I'd come home and wait for when my body told me it was time to go to the hospital. At 7 am no one in my house had woken up yet, which is unusual because J is an early riser and usually wakes Husband and I up. I couldn't wait anymore; I could tell things were progressing, so my plan was to get dressed, pack everyone up and gauge the situation to see if grandmas needed to be called to watch G and J. Every movement sped up AND intensified my contractions. I woke Husband by saying, "Good morning, love! It's baby day!" He was ready to hop out of bed and drive me to the hospital, but when I realized I didn't have any clean shorts for J, I did a load of laundry and finished packing G. We were splitting the kids up, so that no one grandma would have to deal with the chaos of having both G and J together, and we called Husband's mom to come watch them for my appointment so that Husband could drive me.
I progressed VERY quickly and told my doctor and the nurse that I was in labor, and when they heard how many contractions I'd had in the 14 minutes I'd been there, advised me to get to the hospital ASAP. My mom picked up G and took her, and Husband's mom stayed with J. Husband drove us home to grab the diaper bag and then drove about 30 mph over the speed limit to get me to the hospital; the contractions were about every 2 minutes by then and I couldn't talk through them. We arrived at the hospital at about 10 am, after being told by my OB's nurse to go to the office to be checked. Doc checked me and said, "You didn't want an epidural, right? Because you don't have time for one anyways." I was 7cm dilated by that point. They wheeled me to L&D and got me checked into bed, started asking questions, and helped me ride out my contractions. I've always considered myself sorta weak in the hands, but Husband tells me I squeezed his hand pretty hard. I did well breathing through, and was fine and dandy until I felt the urge to push. The nurses couldn't agree about how dilated I was, and decided I was 8 and told me it wasn't time yet, but the more I fought pushing, the more painful it was. Eventually I couldn't fight it anymore. The nurse called on her shoulder walkie talkie that I wasn't able to quit pushing, while both she and Husband told me to breathe through it. My body didn't listen, and in a warm rush of fluids, out came E. No one noticed at first; they were still telling me to breathe and not push. Husband says he doesn't know what made him look down, but when he did, there lay E, purple and crying. And so he vocally reacted like he did when J was born: "Uhh, uhh....she's out." Nurse looked down and lo and behold I'd gotten her all the way out; my water broke as she came out. Nurses flooded in the room to deal with her, getting her suctioned out, tying off and cutting her cord, and getting her to the infant table. My doc came in and was MAD; he slammed a cabinet door. Then he put on his mask and helped me deliver the placenta before giving me a single stitch because I'd torn a tiny bit.
E was beautiful, and of course she still is. She was born at 8 lbs 1 oz, 20.5" long. I was basically pain free as soon as she came out and still am. My nurses were shocked that I never needed pain meds, but hey, if you're not in pain, why take meds? G and J both came to see us, although it took a full 30 minutes before J even realized there was a baby in the duck blanket he'd been looking at. G was smitten and brought me pretty flowers. We went home on Saturday the 16th.
Various details: While in the waiting room at the office, right after my pee test, I had a contraction before I could sit down. I leaned against the wall to brace myself, and Husband stood right there, ready to meet any need I asked of him. A woman in the room noticed me, and offered me a chair so I could sit down. Later, after I was checked and put in a wheelchair to go to L&D, she happened to be waiting for the elevator when they wheeled me to it, and I thanked her for the chair, because I was raised to be thankful for any effort of help someone gave me, even if I didn't actually need it. She said, "No problem. I was wondering why this tall guy was just standing there." Gratitude over. Husband and I are in tune; he knew to be there, ready to help me if I needed it, but as I'd said nothing and only needed a brace to stand firm for me, he just stood there waiting. As he needed to.
At one point I had to use the restroom, so Husband and the nurse stood waiting to help me. I had a contraction while sitting, and muttered out, "I wish she'd just get out already." The nurse, bless her heart, thought I was talking about her, so she said, "Oh, ok," and turned around to leave. Enter extreme guilt. I told her I was talking about the baby, not her, and that I was so sorry, that it was rude. Husband laughed; he thought it was hilarious, but I was so embarrassed that she thought I'd say such a thing to her. Poor girl.
At one point I had to use the restroom, so Husband and the nurse stood waiting to help me. I had a contraction while sitting, and muttered out, "I wish she'd just get out already." The nurse, bless her heart, thought I was talking about her, so she said, "Oh, ok," and turned around to leave. Enter extreme guilt. I told her I was talking about the baby, not her, and that I was so sorry, that it was rude. Husband laughed; he thought it was hilarious, but I was so embarrassed that she thought I'd say such a thing to her. Poor girl.
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