Information overload, but I've never been one to keep things concise. I like details...
It's now been an entire week since the "fun" began. Had you told me last Friday morning that by Saturday night my baby would be here, I would have laughed and told you you were on crack. It was such a world wind weekend, that it's almost as if it never even happened. But then I look down at the most beautiful baby I have ever seen, lying in my arms, and my eyes fill with tears, because as of this moment, life has never felt so perfect.
Backtracking to Wednesday, at my doctor's appointment, where I showed no signs of labor being near, I asked my doctor if we could set an induction date for the week of my due date, May 14th. I didn't think she'd actually be able to set one for my exact due date, but just minutes later she walked back into the exam room, and told me I needed to be at the hospital at midnight on May 14th, and we'd have him May 15th. Easy enough!
As soon as I left my appointment I had a sick feeling in my stomach. Should I actually be induced? I don't want to be induced. Should I cancel and just wait it out? Let him come on his own? If I wait it out, will he be HUG (yes), and then I'd really have to have a c-section? But, being induced also means my chances for a c-section would be even higher than they already are. Family history isn't keen on vaginal deliveries, c-sections are how we get it done. But I like to defy the odds, it's just how I am.
If you're wondering if I stressed over having an induction date set, I'd go out on a limb here and say, yes, yes I was!
Thursday I called my doctor and asked her if she thought I should put off the induction date for another week, but, knowing family history, and that my hubby weighed 10lb 9oz, she suggested we just stick with the date, it seemed safer. I hung up the phone and made myself feel good about that. But then I realized, all those reasons above wasn't the only thing stressing me out, I now knew what day my baby would be here, and that made me nervous. I liked the unknown.
Friday morning around 10am, a friend and I went down to the State Fair Grounds to check out a large consignment type sale, for all things baby of course. She and I wondered around for about an hour and a half, checking everything out, while I endured the slight contractions I had been having all morning. I don't think I even mentioned to her I was having any, seeing that I had been having contractions on and off for awhile now. Like the Friday before, when I had them for 12 hours straight, and just as suddenly as they came on, they were gone. So, I thought nothing off it.
After heading home from the consignment sale, I made a list of all the things I wanted to get done that day. Namely, going to the gym and grocery shopping. I figured, the gym is the one place that usually makes me feel better, and I was determined to try my hardest to work out up until the very end. Little did I know, the end was the next day. Mission accomplished. Thank you body for allowing me to run up until the day my baby came, big belly and all.
Following the gym and grocery shopping, I picked John up from school and we headed off to a financial meeting that had been rescheduled from a few weeks back when the tornadoes came through. The two guys in the meeting would occasionally make jokes about me going into labor, since they knew it was only a few days off, little did they know, I really was in labor. Heck, little did I know I was really in labor. I kept trying to get comfortable in the chair for the hour and a half we were there. I'd sometimes grab my stomach, only to assure them, "Oh yeah, I'm TOTALLY fine, don't worry about me." Man, was I miserable during that meeting.
Finally the meeting was over and it was off to dinner to
Tuckers. Our favorite new discovery in town. I don't know if I like their turkey burgers more, their strawberry shakes, or the fries. My mouth is watering just thinking about it. But, back to the issue at hand here, I'm in labor, and still clueless about it all.
During dinner I mentioned to John that the contractions kept getting stronger. But, like I have previously mentioned, I swear the contractions are just a Friday thing, since the Friday's prior I was experiencing a similar feeling. During dinner, I jokingly had John time them, to see how far apart they were, keep in mind, they had roughly been this far apart, all.day.long. since about 9 or 10am that morning. They were about two to three minutes apart, lasting 30 seconds long. Awesome! I text my friend that night around 8pm, saying, "Sharp contractions, every two to three minutes, for like 30ish seconds, isn't cause for concern just yet, right?" Sadly, I was texting her this laughing about it all, because yeah, I was totally in pain, but I still was naive enough to not think anything of it.
I'm pretty sure .2 seconds later she was calling me telling me I needed to get to the hospital. And I just laughed. To which she told me I was ridiculous, and maybe if I'm talking through them, I'm ok. But no, over and over she said, go to the hospital, just do it! I told her I'd need to pack a hospital bag first, oh, and look up the hospitals phone number. Yeah, preparation isn't my strong point.
I called the hospital, explained what was going on, and heeded their advice. Lay down, drink lots of water, and if nothing changes, come in. By 9:30pm nothing had changed, so John and I gathered are things and headed to the hospital, convinced we'd ashamedly walk right in and walk right back out. And, after about 3ish hours, sometime after 12:30am, that's just what we did. Yes, my contractions were regular, but my cervix was completely closed off, no dilation going on down there. Awesome! I remember praying and praying and praying my body would do what it's supposed to, and let me avoid having a c-section. But at that moment, I was feeling pretty discouraged.
So, home we went, only to get NO sleep the entire night because I was in too much pain. By 7:30 or so the next morning, I almost couldn't take it anymore, so I told John we needed to go back to the hospital again. And so, round two began. I remember telling the nurse who was checking us in, I promise I'm in pain, but I can talk through my contractions, but I promise it hurts, like really bad. We were worried the nurses wouldn't take us seriously because I wasn't screaming. I think at this point I was still joking around even...after all, it hadn't quite been 24 hours yet, the fun was just beginning.
Round two proved to be more promising. My contractions that were close to 60% the night before were now 100% on the little richter scale type thing Saturday morning...I have no idea what that thing is actually called, but that's what it looks like. I received the best news of all that morning, I was dilated to a 1+, not much, but at least I felt like my body was coming through for me. Thank you body! And then the second best news that morning came, but the news that I was really not expecting, we were told we'd have a baby before the weekend was over, in fact most likely before the day was over. John and I both kind of laughed about this, and how crazy this weekend was turning out to be.
I love the unexpected!
And this is why I knew being induced wasn't how my little boy was supposed to come into this world. God knows me better than that, and he knew that in order for me to remain calm and stress free, I needed his arrival to be sprung on me.
And so the perfect day began.
We were sent home again, only because I was still at the beginning stages of labor, and after an hour of being hooked up to monitors, I showed no progression of dilating anymore. But they did assured us we'd be back by three that afternoon ready to have a baby. I don't know if I believed it would be that soon, but we headed home anyway, hoping to get some rest. Yeah right, not going to happen, I hurt so bad to even let my body try and relax. Sharp pains every few minutes isn't the ideal body relaxation tool. I couldn't even eat lunch I hurt so bad, but let's face it, lunch didn't really sound appealing at the moment anyway. Around 2pm, John wanted to go for a walk, in hopes that that would help my body dilate faster, but I told him absolutely not, we had to get back to the hospital right then. I hurt, I was on the verge of tears, but still talking mind you, and I just felt like we needed to get back to the hospital.
So, round three began. Third times the charm, right? Today was our lucky day. And Cinco de Mayo!
We were checked in, yet again, hooked up to monitors, yet again, and I was checked to see how far I had dilated, yet again. I was saying a prayer in my head over and over again to please let them tell me my body had progressed, but I was worried they'd say I was still at a 1+ and we'd be sent home, and I'd have to keep enduring the pain even longer. 28 hours of labor pain under the belt, I didn't know how much more I could take. I'd soon discover I could take up to 33 hours of pain before needing an intervention.
It was my lucky day, I was now a 3+, but the nurse said she'd say I was closer to a 4 so they could admit me. Apparently 4 is the lucky number around there, that and I think she liked us, and just as much as we wanted to have our baby, she wanted us to have him, too. Bless that nurse!
They brought a wheelchair down to wheel me to my room, but I just laughed at them and told them I was capable of walking. So, down to the room we went, and patiently, oh so patiently, we waited for the anesthesiologist to show up to save me. But of course, he wasn't at the hospital anymore, so they had to call him in, and that took a good couple of hours. I think he finally showed up around 6:45pm and shot the good stuff straight into my back. I almost told him I loved him, but I refrained since John was standing right there. But really, I loved him at that moment when I instantly felt NO pain. I went from being quiet Amy, to chatting up a storm with the nurses and acting like it was no big deal a baby was about to come out of me. Cause that's a no big deal thing, right?
One of the nurses came in sometime after 8 and broke my water, and things kind of progressed at lightning speed after that. The nurse had me lying on my left side for about 10 minutes, and then switch over to my right to help things move along faster, and not even five minutes into lying on my right side, I asked John to run and get the nurse, this baby was coming, now! She came in, checked me, and seemed completely shocked when she said, yep, his head is right there. I was only dilated to a 5 just minutes before. Nurses were flying around the room after that, and I was just left there to hang out, feeling like he was about to pop out of me at any moment. I soon found out, it would still be another hour before that literally happened.
They had to call my doctor who was at home to tell her it was game time, and I'm pretty sure waiting for her to show up is what made those last few minutes seem like the longest of my life. Finally sometime just after (or before?) 9, she showed up, and it was go time. I'd push, and push, and be told to do one more good push, and it was usually around that third push I couldn't get enough air to do the job justice. After a few times of this happening, I finally burst out laughing every time I got to the third push. I don't know why I was laughing, probably because from my perspective, it was kind of funny having everyone at the opposite end of me, (so nasty), my legs saddled up in the stirrups, and being told, "You got this Amy, one more good push!" "His head is right there, you can do it." And other comments of the like being thrown at me. And then, to make matters worse (or better?) my doctor tells me, I've had patience, throwing up, screaming, and crying, but I've yet to have a patient laugh during labor. So, naturally she and all of the nurses are now laughing at me, while I continued to push...and laugh, but only when it was the third push, and then this whole giving birth to a child thing became rather fun, or funny? Is that even possible? I think the laughing helped though, because his head was finally out enough that she told me if I leaned forward, I could touch him. So, I did, and just like that, out he popped at 9:17pm. Why didn't I lean forward sooner, seriously?
Note to self for all future deliveries, just lean forward!
As soon as he came out, everyone was commenting on how big of a baby he was, mostly that they thought he had a big head. But he doesn't, and if he does, it just means he's going to be smart! As soon as the nurses took him, I remember looking over at the table where he was lying, and freaking out inside, he had yet to make a peep since entering this world, and I was getting really nervous. My doctor kept saying, he's just in shock, he's ok, but I honestly didn't believe her. I think it was close to five minutes before I heard the sweetest little wail come out of his mouth, and then I knew all was well, and my life just changed for the better.
As soon as they laid that sweet baby on my chest, I was a goner, he was, and is, the cutest baby I have ever seen. And he was mine! We didn't have a name picked out yet, just a few that we liked, but the moment we both laid eyes on him we knew he was our sweet little Preston.
Oh how I love this sweet baby of mine. I think I cry daily just looking at him because I think he's the sweetest thing I have ever seen, and I think he's just perfect. I honestly can't get over how darling he is. I always tell people who make cute babies that that just means they need to do this world a favor and have lots of them, but we'll see if I heed my own advice.
I'd like to thank lots of pineapple eating, lawn mowing, and running for bringing this little guy into our lives 10 days early. It's been a week since this adventure really began, and I think it's safe to say, it's been one of the best weeks of my life.
