(140) I Think I Got Lucky Part I...

I am starting to think I got the long straw. I really do. I was anticipating that labor would go on for days and I would be suffering in excruciating pain. I mean why wouldn't I think that after reading childbirth books and listening to friends tell their stories? I had it played up in my mind that I would be in labor for days or even weeks before pushing this girl out.

I was wrong. Let me explain why...

First off, I lost my infamous mucous plug late Tuesday night (12/28/10). I was lying in bed working on my Sudoku puzzles, listening to Brendon getting ready for bed, when I felt what I thought was fluid coming from "down there". I paused just as B was coming out of the bathroom and that made him pause. He could tell by the look on my face that something was amiss. So I jumped out of bed, sat on the pot, wiped, and then TA-DA! There it was. I had been waiting for it to make its appearance. Of course, I knew that just because it did show, that did not mean that labor was eminent. It could have been anywhere from one day to two weeks after. *Sigh* But there I was face to face with "the plug". Whatever you have read in books about what it looks like is true. That is, of course, if the books you have read describe it as looking like snot. My first impression was that I had blown my nose through my va-jay-jay. Yep. It looked like a cylinder of snot. It really is unmistakable. When it comes out, you will know. Of course, some women don't lose theirs. So don't get too paranoid if you never see this snot rocket.

So there I was, Tuesday night, a little excited to see the first indication of something. The anticipation set in and I could hardly get to sleep. Tuesday blended into Wednesday and the only thing that happened was more mucousy discharge. Kinda gross, but apparently part of nature. I went about my business and did my crafts. I started a little project for Lauren... handmade alphabet and number blocks. (They are still in the same shape as I left them... I tell myself that I will get back to them). I used the ball, walked, stood as much as I could. I really wasn't too hopeful that anything would happen. I mean I was only 1 cm dilated at the last doctor's appointment. So I was thinking we would actually make it to our scheduled induction date of January 7. (Yes we had an induction on the books even before I was 40 weeks... but apparently that is all it took.) Wednesday came and went with no other indication of anything... no bleeding, no cramping, no nothing. Well except for pain in my nether region. Ye-OUCH!!!

Then came Thursday. The day began like any of my other 3rd trimester morning... with pain in the crotch. Like someone had kicked me there 10 gazillion times. Yes. It hurt. That. Much. So Thursday, I wanted to run some errands before the day got away from us. We went to Barnes and Noble, Office Max, and then Brendon needed to go to the golf store. He got new golf clubs and we wanted to check on them. Anyway, I guess we got back to the house around 3pm or so and I headed to the garage to work on Lauren's blocks. Then it happened. It was about 4:30 or 5pm when something started. I felt some cramping but nothing too bad. It would come and go, and was so erratic that I just went about my business. Then about 8pm or so I decided to time the pains in my ute. Let's just say for the next 3:30 hours they gradually got worse. I honestly cannot remember how bad they felt now (thank goodness), but I do remember being EXTREMELY uncomfortable. I couldn't focus on my crafting, or anything else for that matter, and when a contraction started I literally was stopped in my tracks. If I felt one coming on, I had to find a countertop to lean on. Why specifically a countertop, you ask? Because our countertops are the perfect height for leaning and I guess there was something soothing about them. For the last couple of hours, I sat on the couch, contracting, watching Brendon play Tiger Woods Golf 2011. Yes, he was was playing the Wii while I was having contractions. Why not? There wasn't anything he could do except keep an eye on me. And between contractions I actually was able to enjoy the time with him.

Between contractions, all smiles...

In the midst of my uterus clamping down...


Around 11:30pm, Brendon had finally had enough of hearing me moan in pain and announced that he was packing his bag and we were going to the hospital. I protested a little since I was feeling fine between contractions and I was afraid I wasn't progressing. I mean I had only been contracting for something like 7 hours, so surely I wasn't anywhere near ready to go to the hospital. Well, it didn't take much coercing to get me in the car. When you are in that much pain, you really don't have the energy to fight. The ride to the hospital is a blur. I remember having contractions but that is about it. I managed to walk from the car to the ER... a nice lady offered me a wheelchair but I politely declined (I was pregnant not impaired). We got checked in and escorted to L&D.

Let me just say that if you are a L&D nurse and are escorting a patient, please walk SLOW. A woman in labor cannot and will not move faster than a snail. It hurts to move. It hurts to stand still. It just hurts.

So we made it to the room... one of the biggest LDR rooms I have seen (haven't seen many, but it was the size of my living room)... and I changed into the beautiful, hospital-issue gown. Man, did I feel sexy. There is nothing like a hospital gown to make you feel institutionalized and, honestly, slightly dirty. But I digress. The nurse had me get in bed and wanted to check me. Ugh. I hate internal exams. With. A. Passion. Too much trauma associated with them now. She told us that if I was dilated to 4 cm we were staying and anything less we were going home. Oh how I prayed to be a 4 or more. I really did not want to go home. But in my mind I just thought I hadn't labored enough to be making any progress. Nope. I was wrong. I was dilated to 4 cm. Woohoo!! Oh the words I wanted to hear at 12:20am or whatever time it actually was.

The rest, as they say, is history.

Haha! Just kidding!

Since we were officially staying put, the nurse then proceeded to get paperwork for us to read and sign while she did my IV. Because for some reason she thought I could actually concentrate enough during my contractions to fill out formalities. We got all of that done and the doctor on call came in. From what I can remember, he was a nice guy. He had very good bedside manners and made me feel at ease. He also happens to be a new doc at the women's center. I remember talking to him about my previous pregnancy a little and the whole "delivering exactly a year later". I also remember trying not to laugh. I just found it humorous that he looked like he had just graduated from high school.

Then it was on to the epidural. I knew that I wanted one. (I do have my opinions on drugs during childbirth but I won't get into them here.) But I was concerned that if I got one too early, my progress would slow down. The doctor reassured me that I was far enough along that progress wouldn't slow and that really, why prolong the pain if I was going to get one anyway. And it just so happened that the drug guy was at the hospital then and was about to leave (it was well past midnight by now). I had wanted to wait another 2 hours when the nurse was going to check me again, but the doctor got the nurse to check me right then and I had progressed to 6, I believe. So my mind was made up. Let me just say that sitting on the edge of a bed curled over in a position that scrunches your pregnant belly all the while having contractions is NOT FUN. Getting the epidural itself wasn't bad, it was the whole "You have to maintain your curved back in this way and don't move". Yes, it made me cry. Some of it was from the pain, but part of it was being concerned that scrunching my belly like that was hurting the baby. Irrational thinking, maybe. But from my standpoint, it was not comfortable. I can't even imagine what it felt like for her.

Once the epidural was in place, I felt like I was in heaven. Well, in heaven with the inability to move my legs. I could still "feel" them, but they were lead weights. It was an odd sensation, but the epi allowed me to get some sleep from about 2:30am to 6am. And when I say some, I mean maybe 10 minutes out of every hour. This was due to 1) being in a strange bed, 2) confined to my back, and 3) the sheer excitement of meeting our daughter.

Then the fun began...