Most of my posts pertain to life with our toddler, as she is the most animated and verbal one in the house right now. However, Addison, our 3-month old, also comes with a special story. Her birth story is actually quite comical; it seems like a waste not to share it. On September 21, 2017, I went to the doctor. I was a mere 3 days away from Baby #2's due date and my Ob-gyn told me that I could go ahead and schedule to be induced for the following week if I was ready. Although my husband was hesitant when I mentioned the possibility of just scheduling Addison's birth, as he did not want her to arrive before she was ready, he agreed to go along with it for the sake of my sanity and to ensure that our toddler would be taken care of. Then and there the date was set for September 26. However, Addison had other plans.
My husband, toddler and I were at home watching the Kansas City Chiefs football game on September 25 when I decided that, for my last meal, before being required to starve myself until the baby's arrival, I had to have chicken, mashed potatoes, green beans and cinnamon rolls from one of our favorite restaurants, Stroud's. When my husband returned with the goods, I did nothing short of over-stuffing myself. I truly wanted to make sure that I only had to experience minimal starvation.
After the giant meal, my Mother-in-Law arrived as was slated to watch Olivia while we were in the hospital. Olivia, our toddler, played with her "Nana" a bit and then was escorted to her room to begin bedtime procedures. Upon entering Olivia's room, my stomach started to feel a little funny. I thought for sure that I had simply eaten too much for dinner as I had been told that contractions during labor would be a pain felt more in the back of my body; unfortunately, I had nothing to compare this experience to because I has been induced with baby #1. I, uncomfortably, fidgeted for about 30 minutes and then determined that I had to be sick as I kept feeling pains in my stomach. I went ahead and let my husband take over and headed to the bathroom.
In the bathroom, nothing happened. The constant feeling that I was going to be sick would not pass and I was starting to feel as though I was cramping. The pain was starting to sharpen and I was noticing a pattern of cramping approximately every 5 minutes. I decided I needed to call the doctor just to discuss my symptoms. I chose to make this call privately so as not to alarm my husband or Mother-in-Law when I could have been experiencing nothing.
Upon answering the emergency line, the doctor said that it sounded like I was at the beginning stages of labor and that I could head to the hospital to check dilation or just wait the process out a little longer. After hanging-up with the doctor, the cramping was noticeably progressing and they were now 2 minutes apart. I knew that I could not wait any longer so I let my husband know that it was go time. He ran out and started wandering the house trying to decide what to do and what all he might need at the hospital. Important right? Not when your wife is laboring in your home! After about 5 minutes of standing by the door to leave with our pre-packed hospital bag I yelled "What the f*ck are you DOING?" Oh, did I mention that my mother-in-law was there to witness this entire conversation? This was not one of my shining moments but hey, I was about to give birth!
Finally, after my husband made sure to slip on and tie both of his tennis shoes, even though flip-flops were readily available, we were in the car. As the car stars moving, I become aware that the cramping is now 1 minute apart...and we are still about 10 minutes away from the hospital. Of course, my husband is jerking the car around like a crazy person and, in turn, hitting every single red light. I finally start to realize that baby 2 had no interest in waiting for me to be induced in the morning...she was coming now and it was a real possibility that she would be born in our Jeep.
We arrived at the hospital, thank God, and I managed to get out of the car and take about 3 steps before dropping to my knees and experience the bodily fluid rush that was my water breaking in the hospital parking lot. When doctors say one might feel a trickle of water and that this is your water breaking so to call them, they leave out the part about how it can also feel and look like someone just popped a giant water balloon. Super attractive!
Soaking wet, I look at my husband and he is giving me a look that, again, tells me he has absolutely no idea what to do. I yell at him to get a wheelchair because there was no chance that I would be giving birth to my baby in that parking lot. He ran into the hospital and returned with my wheels. He helped me in to the wheelchair and I started to feel like I had regained some sort of control over the situation. But no, we weren't done with the madness yet. My husband could not figure out how to unlock the breaks on the wheelchair and, instead of figuring it out, he rolled me up on 2 wheels to the hospital entrance.
Once inside the entrance, my husband called up to the maternity ward and let them know that I was in labor. I was immediately escorted to a room and dressed in a hospital gown. The nurse asked if I would like an epidural if there was still time. I let her know that I would take any and all of the drugs!
Super excited that there might be somehing to ease my pain, I breathed a sigh of relief. Of course this was when the nurse decided to inform me that it was, in fact, too late and that I would be giving birth without any sort of pain relief. Insert pregnant woman hyperventilating here. I have an extremely low threshold of pain so I proceeded to cry and beg that they give me an epidural anyway. The nurse kindly informed me that, although she would love to, it was simply too late and that the option of medication was no longer on the table. She also told me that the best thing to do would be to wait for the doctor to arrive so that I could begin to push.
Five-ish minutes later, the on-call doctor arrived. He checked my cervix as well and told everyone that it was go time. To spare everyone the gory details, I will just say that I pushed 3 times and out came a beautiful 8-pound baby girl. Did I mention that I had been at the hospital for 36 minutes total? Talk about a fast labor and delivery! It's true what they say, "We plan, God laughs!" Maybe I could do this again after all! Only time will tell...