I am laying in bed. It's 12:30 a.m. and I've just been woken up by a mild contraction. This happened to me last night too. "I wish it was real labor," I think to myself. An hour later I am still awake. I can't wait to tell my friends how I thought I was in labor all night. I wish I could just sleep. It is early Friday morning and I am scheduled to be induced on Monday morning. I haven't packed yet.
I lie in bed for another hour and then I decide I better pack just to be safe. I scurry around the house rummaging for a bag, charging the video camera, and gathering must haves for my hospital stay. The contractions aren't so bad. Every so often I have to sit down. At about 4 a.m. Scott sits up and witnesses the flurry of activity I am involved in. I have already told him several times that I am not in labor and to go back to sleep. He is suddenly not convinced. "I guess I better go shower," he says. I am still trying not to get my hopes up. I apologize for interrupting his sleep but allow him to shower anyway. Like I was going to stop him. Somehow he remembers our close calls better than me.
"I don't think her name is Lola," he says to me from the shower, "I am pretty sure her name is Amelia." "Okay," I say. I decide that it is indeed my favorite name too. Way too many songs about Lola being of questionable character. He hops out of the shower and I waddle in. I like to be clean before exposing my nether regions to strangers. I'm funny that way. I think we have a baby today. Funny. I have plans tonight to go out with my girlfriends. I really thought I had the weekend left to prepare. I should have known it was close when the day before I washed and put the babies clothes in her drawer and even ran to the mall to get some last minutes items. Should have known indeed.
I get out of the shower and sit down for a moment. Hmmm. These are really close. And regular. Shoot. I didn't get to do my hair. Then I panic. These are way too close and regular. "We need to hurry," I say. "I know," says Scott. He has been hurrying. We wake up Hayley and put her on the couch to listen if the little ones wake up. She is excited. We hop in the car. It's 5 a.m. Scott ran a few red lights. Delivering a baby in the car is not on his bucket list. Mine either. We call our parents and my sister. I feel bad waking them up. I hate not knowing when to call.
The hospital is down town. Scott made good time. It usually takes us 35-40 minutes and we were then in 25. The contractions are harder but at least the baby is still in the bulge. We whisk past admissions dropping of my insurance card and ask the nice lady to please to let us go. She is wise.
I walk into labor and delivery and announce, "this is my 6th baby and I would like some drugs please." I add that I shoot my babies out fast. I must have looked intense. They take me seriously. "I didn't take a photo of me super pregnant!" We wait for a break in my contractions and I pose. Retake. Pose again. Okay, back in bed.
They come and check me. It's 5:40 a.m. "Wow," says the nurse. "You're bags are bulging". She doesn't dare check if the head is down. She doesn't want to "burst my bubble" Ha. Strong sack=tender mercy. If it had broken in the car I would not have made it to the hospital. I am dilated to a 7. They call the doctor. She's already been to the hospital several times this night. The full moon is bringing out the babies.
I am doing good. This isn't too bad. Two seconds after I though this I am gripped with what could only be "transition labor". Ouch. Drugs now please. It's 5:55 a.m. I think I feel pressure. They check me, I'm a 8-9. Oh crap. I need drugs. My in-laws arrive. We give Paul the camera with instructions to video everything but not "anything." He is very discreet. My Mother-in-law tries to offer comfort. The next fifteen minutes are a blur. The "happy doctor" makes it to my room but there is not time for an epidural. They decide to do a saddle block. I have to sit up to to have it placed. The nurse lets me hold onto her. The urge to push is so overwhelming I begin making noises. Really embarrassing noises. I am scared. I hate the feeling of loosing control of my body. I am still making really awesome grunting sounds. No one is laughing. Thanks for that. Thanks also to Paul for turning off the camera.
It's 6:05 a.m. and the block is in place. Ahhh! My contractions don't hurry anymore. Wait. I can still feel pressure. Um. How come I can still feel stuff? At 6:10 a.m. Dr. Robinson arrives. She is waiting to break my water. Why is she waiting? She says she's waiting for my "bum to go numb." Come again? Well, I can't wait. The baby is coming. I have to push. I can feel it. FEEL IT!!! The baby's head is so low she's blocking the drugs from numbing me completely. So rude. Dr. R breaks my water and I begin to push. And scream. Oh yeah, I scream. And not just your every day scream. It's primal. I cannot control it. I think to myself, "I am screaming and I can't stop." Two pushes, her head is out. I scream, "PULL HER OUT". One more push and out she comes at 6:15 a.m. Ouch. That really really hurt. Cute baby though. Dang cute.
6:20 my parents and Janie arrive. Janie is ticked. She went to pick up my parents. Ah well. They ooh and aaah. She really is cute.
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