Part Two

CAUTION TMI AHEAD if you do not want to know about/read about/think about any of the not so pleasant parts of childbirth, please skip to the end, maybe not even there, just stop reading.

So I felt like I really needed to go, bad. Although it mostly felt like GI distress, the thought was in the back of my mind maybe this is a contraction? Nah. Although I had read about how the body prepares for birth by passing everything through a day or two before. Hmmmmm. So I go, and I go again, again, you get the idea. Now it’s just after 1am, I go again, this time there’s a little something ‘extra’, a glob or plug or something equally icky and attention getting. It was at this point I finally decided I should wake George, maybe this was it, because the cramping sure wasn’t getting any better, just a lot worse and quickly.

Poor George shot out of bed when I flipped on the bathroom light. I think he said something like ‘Is it go time?’ I smiled at him for a moment, ‘yeah I think it might be’. He asked how long I’d been up and I filled him in on what had transpired so far. During these brief minutes I had more cramping, and it hurt more. He asked if he had time to take a shower, I thought he did. He showers pretty quickly. So he jumped in and I stood in the bathroom holding the counter up…another cramp, it hurt. I told him it was happening again. I continued holding the counter, another cramp, not two minutes later, ouch, it was pretty darn uncomfortable! He quickly got dressed and we started gathering things up to top off the hospital bag and diaper bag. OUCH, these are most definitely contractions and darn if they don’t hurt! I had to stop and breathe through them, holding the bed, the wall, whatever was there. George asked if he should wake my parents, I agreed it’s probably a good idea. He goes upstairs, and apparently my mother with super hearing asks if it’s baby time before he even gets down the hall to their bedroom door. Things started moving pretty quick at this point. George loaded things in the car, I paced around the bedroom. Owie owie owie was repeated many times…still at a reasonable volume at this point in time. George helped me up the stairs, my mom met us in the hall all smiles that it was baby time! Yay? It was really hurting now! I remember stopping and clinging to the wall on the way to the car, the owie chant was getting louder. I think we pulled out of the garage a little after 2am, sitting in the car didn’t agree with me, I reclined the seat back which felt a little better for a while.

Contractions were coming about every two minutes or less at this point. Every bump in the road hurt, every turn at a corner was painful. Silly George actually tried to stop at a red light, I might have said a little extra loudly, ‘What are you doing?! There’s no one there! GO GO GO!’ So he ran a few lights and stop signs after that. We did have to stop for one major light on SR500 and I think one on Mill Plain. Oh and silly George again, for some reason he thought going 5 mph over the speed limit was fast enough, hehe, so in my polite labor crazed way I corrected him. He went faster. I might have been yelling owie owie owie this really hurts, over and over and over by the time we got to the birth center. Loudly, me, yelling, during labor, not what I was expecting to do, but hey, it helped.

We got to SWMC birth center I think about 2:30am. George stopped the car in front of the doors like they had told us to do in birth class. He left the car running, not sure about that one, but hey, I wasn’t about to argue with him. He helped me out of the car and towards the doors. I saw another couple walking towards the doors, obviously they were there in labor also, but she was walking just fine. I barely made it through the doors on my feet. At night they lock the inner doors for security and you have to press the intercom to the nurses station to get in. So George pushes the button, I yell OWIE OWIE OWIE a few more times, he holds me off the floor. The nice voice from the intercom asks if she can help us, George says very calmly, ‘We’re having a baby’. She tells him to come through the doors and to the left to the nurses station. He holds me up, I’m still yelling and I think crying by this point. We have to wait a minute while they find our paperwork. Good thing we pre-registered! The other couple is standing at the counter now too. She looks fine, damn her, why is she even there?! Obviously she’s not ready yet! I did not say this out loud, I have no idea who she was, but I still kinda resent her for looking so calm while I felt like my insides where being crushed.

They take us to triage. Contractions are about every minute, minute and a half maybe. Yeah, like I said before, wasn’t expecting to be so vocal, and I kinda feel bad for the other people there, but again, it helped. The nurse asked when contractions started, I think George told her just before 1am, she looks surprised. I think she was skeptical about how far I was, perhaps thinking I’m just a drama queen or something? Not sure, but she checks me, and tells us in a slightly shocked voice, I’m at a good 9.5cm, we’re going to have our baby now! Another nurse asked from the hall how far I was, 9.5cm! Oh! They moved quickly. I yelled. Loudly. Not screaming mind you, nothing bloody murder shrieking, but some seriously loud moaning and my favorite, OW OW OW OWIE OWIE!!!!!! The nurses wheeled us down the hall towards a room, I clung to the bed rail and the nurse told me not too, she didn’t want to hurt my fingers if she hit a wall. I kept my eyes closed most of the way.

Did I mention the yelling? That I was loud? Okay, just checking. We get to a room, George told me there were a lot of people in there right away setting everything up. They moved me to the bed, I clung to the new rail and yelled. A lot. When a contraction stopped a nurse said something about getting me in a gown, then another contraction hit. No gown for me! They took vitals, started to set an IV, I remember asking the nurse between contractions if she could please wait a minute with the needle because I didn’t think she would have enough time to get it in before the next one hit. She waited, nice lady. Someone asked if I had wanted an epidural. No. Good she said, because there wasn’t time. I’m still not sure why she bothered asking.

The next contraction hit and I needed to push. So I did. Someone noticed and said, good, push if you feel the urge. Urge? Like I had a choice? It wasn’t an option people, pushing needed to happen Right Now. On the second push I felt a weird pressure, then a gush, my water broke. A few seconds later the nurses said something about the baby’s heart rate and that I needed to roll over. That was hard, I didn’t want to move or let go of the rail. George told me very calmly that the baby’s heart rate had dropped too low and they were worried about her, I had to roll to my left side to help her. I rolled with help, for her, my baby.

There was no rail! George was on the other side, I had nothing to hold on too! And then a nice nurse told me to put my arm around her, she was great. I clung to her. I can’t even remember her name, but she was the best. They wanted me to hold my leg while I pushed, I didn’t want to. George held it for me. He was amazing, right there the whole time, watched everything. I pushed again with the next contraction, I could feel the pressure changing as she moved down. On the next push she started to crown. Someone told me to reach down and feel her head. I yelled. A lot. And I remember yelling, ‘I can feel it already!’, I had no need to reach down and touch it too. One more contraction and I pushed hard, so so so hard, and it really really hurt, I can’t describe the pain but be sure, it was intense. Her head was out, follow very quickly by her body. And oh did that feel better. I swear every muscle in my body was either tense or pushing, and then it was over. There she was, all purpleish blue and wet, resting on my chest.

**If you notice, this is the same shirt I was wearing in my 40 week belly picture. I wore it to bed that night.....