Monday, March 15, 2010
Lots of emails asking for The Story - and since I'm too lazy to type it out several times, we'll just go with the whole "public forum" type of deal. I have no shame.
(If you don't like icky gynecological details, or your name is DaNae, or both, feel free to skip this post and just ooo and aaah over the pictures.)
So. Thursday morning I had a doctor's appointment. By that point I had been having constant (minor) contractions for a good week, and I was TIRED. They weren't super strong, but they were every 5-10 minutes. For a week. I WAS NOT SLEEPING. The doc gave me a prescription for Ambien and a promise to strip my membranes the following week. I am impatient and may have cried just a little bit. A week is a very long time.
Later that afternoon, the contractions started getting more intense. I think the phrase "strip my membranes" may have had something to do with it. It just doesn't SOUND pleasant.
I knew it wasn't urgent yet, so I told My Man to come home around 4:00. I packed the bag. Painted my nails. Took a nap. Little Prince came home from school, Mr. Squishy and Ouro Branco woke up from their naps - we made sure LP's homework was done and sent them off to a friend's house. (Holy CRUD, I love my friends.)
We meandered into the hospital around 5:00. By now the contractions still weren't close together - maybe 6-10 minutes apart - but they were strong enough that I had to breathe through them. At this point I was dilated to 4cm (which is what I was at the doctor's that very morning.) After an hour strapped to the fetal monitor, they checked me again. 6cm! I could stay! I may or may not have done a happy dance. Slowly. I was still 37 weeks pregnant.
So they transferred me to this totally lush room, and we called the grandparents. They had on-demand movies - pretty sweet, but I was rather disappointed with the selection. We watched the new Star Trek. It was weird. I'm glad we didn't pay for it.
The contractions soon became a little closer together, but still not all that bad. I walked circles in the room (they should really put treadmills in there) and laughed and joked with My Man. (He's my best friend.)
By 9:00 I was still stalled at 6cm, so they decided to break my water. Then! HEL-lo! The contractions got super intense - but still not at all close together. It was great; I got a nice break in between each one, and was able to concentrate and relax through the doozies.
At 10:00 I started to shake. That's my body's signal that baby is on its way. We rang for the nurse, and I was now dilated to an 8. They loaded me up with heated blankets (soooo nice), and we settled in for the last few remaining minutes.
(This is about the part that with every contraction I'm squeezing the guts out of My Man's hand and repeating "I hate this I hate this I hate this" over and over again. I don't think this is part of the Bradley method, but I improvise a little. It works for me.)
By 10:15/10:20, I knew it was time. I could feel the baby sliding down and I totally panicked that the doctor wasn't there. I start screaming "PUSH THE BUTTON PUSH THE BUTTON" and My Man couldn't find the dang remote thingie anywhere. He finally found it, though, and in came the whole entourage. I told them the baby was coming NOW, and they better get ready.
I pushed through one contraction and they told me to stop; the cord was wrapped around the baby's head. Well. If you've given birth naturally, you know it's pretty much impossible to stop pushing when your body is FORCING THE BABY OUT. I'm panting for all I'm worth and trying really hard to stop my body, but I felt that urge, gave one "Ummm, he's about to be born!" and he came FLYING out. Seriously. It was hilarious. The doctor had to dive for him.
I did warn her.
So then he was ours.
Probably my easiest one - nice, calm labor - easy, fast delivery.
I am absolutely in love and feeling fantastic.
Now we need a bloggy nickname for him - because "the baby" ain't gonna cut it. Right now I'm apt to call him The Very Hungry Caterpillar, because he basically wants to nurse all the time. But that's a very long name and he won't be a little wriggly inchworm forever.
Something sweet. Precious. Beautiful. Cuz that's what he is.