So, I love a good story. I’m not saying this particular story is a good one, but it sure has a good twist. Here’s how it all went down:
It was Jason’s night to tuck Em into bed. That means that the parent tucking her in usually gets two extra hours of sleep because each of us inevitably passes out in her snuggly bed from sheer exhaustion. The other parent either makes a wise choice with their evening and goes to bed at the same time or chooses to do one of several other things like: dishes, laundry, channel surfing, reading, emails, volunteer work, jewelry making (me, not Jason, of course) or farting around on Facebook.
I’m pretty sure that night I was farting around doing nothing important…but one thing is for sure, I hadn’t chosen to go to bed at a decent hour!
I finally crawled into bed by midnight.
Then, two and a half SHORT hours later, I woke up to cramps and contractions.
They were 2 – 3 minutes apart. They weren’t bad but they weren’t wonderful, either. It wasn’t like I could “nap” between contractions. I laid there for about an hour and then told Jason that I thought we’d probably have a baby sometime that day…
I hadn’t showered in a couple of days so hopped in the shower at about 3:30 a.m. I hadn’t shaved in even longer, so I shaved, too.
I hadn’t packed my bag, either. I know. It was August 28th and my due date was August 31st…most people would be packed by then…but I’m not most people…in my mind, as long as I didn’t pack my bag, he’d come when I said so…and I wasn’t ready to “say so”. Silly me…
My girlfriends and I were supposed to enjoy gluten-free treats and pedicures at noon on the 28th so my toe-sies would be cute for delivery…we had to cancel. Let’s just say, I hadn’t planned ahead, but his room was done, at least…
Anyway, finally at 5:00 a.m. I called our friends, Drew and Gina, and asked if they wanted to wake up at our house. Gina assured me that they did, so once they arrived at 5:45, Jason and I were out the door. Before we left, we told Em that she’d be waking up to Drew and Gina at the house. Yeah, right! She didn’t go back to bed…she was WIDE awake!
My contractions were not letting up, still between 2 and a half and 3 minutes apart, but not so intense that I couldn’t breathe or talk or walk just fine. The problem is we live 45 minutes from the hospital and I was paranoid with this being my third delivery, of being too far away and having things progress quickly, so we hopped into the car.
On the way I called my Ob/Gyn office, which had an answering service, of course, seeing as how it was the weekend and about 6 o’clock in the morning. I answered a slew of questions and then she informed me that Dr. Who The Heck Knows Who was on call that weekend. It was a third party doctor and I had never heard her name before that moment.
I freaked. Tears started streaming. I told the answering service that I really wanted Mr. Favorite Doctor to at least know I was going to the hospital. She told me to tell the nurses once I got up to the floor. I told myself to breathe.
You see, Mr. Favorite Doctor is the top of the food chain. He’s the big cheese in his office and only takes call during the week, during office hours. And, of course, why would my body coordinate natural childbirth during his office hours, right?!
Anyway, we got to the ER to check in and then headed up to the L and D floor. I had drafted texts to about 50 people to let them know we’d be having a baby that day…I waited until most of them were awake on that fine Saturday morning before I hit “send”.
…and then we got up to the floor…and the nurse “checked” me…and…
…I was at a “One”.
A FREAKING ONE?! ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!
Jason’s friend called him for the 411…I gave him the “if looks could kill” look and told him he wasn’t allowed to tell anyone I was only at a “One”. With Emily I had been at a “One” for a whole month! With Noah I was at a 3 and a half when I walked up to Labor and Delivery and had him 3 hours later.
The nurse was even talking of sending me home. Oh no, baby, I was not going home! I was in labor. I knew I was in labor. But, just so you know, a pregnant lady’s definition of labor and the working definition the docs and nurses go by are WAAAAAY different…fyi.
This is where the whole story turns emotional…but this post is entirely too long and I have to go to bed, so I’ll have to finish this post when I’m not feeding, pumping, sleeping, or homeschooling…there is more to this story.