A Child is Born

Not just any child.... our little jokester!!  She broke my water at 8:15pm on Monday March 7th and was born on Thursday March 10th.  That's right.... three days of labor.  She's stubborn, what can I say?  (I'm not surprised!!)  Let me tell you the story....

I'm lying on the couch in the perfectly textbook prego position on my left side, pillow between legs, watching an episode of "Deliver Me" (sweet irony) when my water breaks.  I panic, look at Dave and say "Ummm... I'm leaking and I'm pretty sure I'm not peeing my pants right now!!!!"  I run to the toilet in our basement (don't get me started on that...) and yup, for sure, I'm not peeing--definite water breakage.  Small heartattack ensues and Dave and I just stare at each other like "Holy crap, this is it, at 33 weeks!!!"  Repeat heartattack.  I call my doctor's office and they tell me to come straight to the hospital.  Guess we really should have packed that damn bag...

We get to the hospital and they hook me up to the monitors and check me.  Yup.  3cms dilated and having contractions about 4 min apart.  Fantastic!  They take a swab to make sure that my water has, in fact, broken and it's confirmed.  This lunatic is in labor, and also in total denial.  LOL.  I was completely resisting it and if they would have let me stand up, I would have thrown a full on temper tantrum over it.  The doctor decides to put me on IV fluids to see if it will slow down my contractions a bit, but anticipates that I will deliver the next day sometime.  I'm admitted to a labor and delivery suite and told I'm just supposed to wait.  They won't do anything to accelerate my labor because I'm so early, but they won't do anything to stop it since my water already broke.  The IV fluids did their job to slow my labor and my contractions changed to about 10 min apart.   Over the next two days, they kept me on IV antibiotics and each doc said the same thing... My body will decide when it's ready.  I would either go into active labor or develop an infection in which case they would accelerate the labor and help me deliver.   At least I had a few days to come to terms with the fact that my vagina would never be the same.... 

After two full days of my labor just hanging out in the early stages and not quite ever getting and staying in "active" labor, the docs then prepared me for the extended visit.  They decided that since I was so early, they were going to just try to hold me out as long as they possibly could as long as I wasn't showing any signs of infection.  Dave, who had been sleeping at the hospital with me the previous two nights, decided to go home and sleep with Brady and go to work the next day, if I wasn't going to deliver.  The nurses decided to let me get a good night's sleep for once and since I was done receiving fluids via IV, they unhooked me from the IV tower and also from both the contraction and fetal heart monitor.  Ahhhh... freedom!! :)

Naturally, Fiona took this as her cue to shake things up a bit.  I woke up at 4am and went to the bathroom and when I got back into bed at 4:04 I had a major contraction.  Oooh... that was not pleasant.  Hmm, I should probably write that down and keep track of these bad boys since I'm not on the monitor anymore....  4:10- another one.  Recorded.  4:16-  this kind of sucks.  I better text Dave and ring the nurse, just in case cuz these HURT LIKE HELL.  4:21- These are pretty regular, no text back from Dave.. I better call him.   I said to him that I was having contractions and they weren't the same and could he please come and be with me...  I also might have mentioned that he could take a shower and grab some work clothes because I wasn't sure if this was actually going to happen. 

The nurse came in and I told her I was having contractions regularly that were very uncomfortable.  I showed her the styrofoam cup I had diligently recorded them on, and then promptly asked if I could take a shower.  She laughed right in my face, and said, "Ummm, no.  You need hooked up to the monitor immediately. I'm going to let Dr. Rapkin know you're contracting."  Oh great, so I can't take a shower, it's been three days since I shaved, and the young male doctor is going to deliver my baby... fantastic.  >:/   OMG this hurts like no other, who cares about the shower. I'm over it.  I tell the nurse that if these keep up, I'm going to need drugs.  STAT.  OMG, they are coming harder and faster as I am hooked up to the monitor.  She asks if I'm having the urge to push.  I say no.  I have another contraction that makes a liar out of me. The doc shows upand checks me.  I'm 9 and 3/4cms dilated.  Umm hi.  Where the F*#@ is DAVE?!  The doctor then becomes concerned because Fiona's heartrate is not responding well to the intensity of my contractions.  It becomes crystal clear to me that there are going to be no drugs involved in this delivery, and I am now clinging to the rails of the hospital bed as if my life depended on it and trying to breathe.  (This is the point where I literally want to punch that stupid woman who taught the Preparing for Childbirth class in the face because there is NO FORM OF BREATHING that would even begin to help) The nurses and doctor are trying to put me in different positions to help the baby's heartrate. They put me on oxygen.  Nothing is working.  They give me a turbo shot to slow the contractions down, and I'm trying to "blow off" the urge to push.  They are now calling Dave because getting this baby out is now an urgent matter and it's time for me to push.  He's at home, letting Brady out, taking his sweet time (because I sort of told him he could).  They tell him I'm 9cms and I'm pretty sure he probably had a heart attack.  Did I mention that the Liberty Tunnel is closed nightly from 10pm - 6am?  FAIL.  Needless to say, Dave walked in the room when her head was 3/4 of the way out, and I pushed two more times and she was here at 5:25am.  (Note the time:  first contraction to delivery = 1 hr 20 min.  She wasn't messing around) 

Notice that I skipped all of the gory gory traumatic details about the pushing, stitching, and me begging for it to be over and swearing like the worst cliche that I couldn't do it.  You can thank me later. I was seriously traumatized after the fact, given that we held her for about 20 seconds before they whisked her away.  The next time we got to see her wasn't until after 11am, but it was so worth the wait.  :)  She's so amazing in every possible way.