Scot and the kids got home really quickly to find me on the birth ball in the closet. Scot's eyes were wide as he questioned whether we should go to the hospital or not. I felt like we should just call Shelley. I have had so many bouts of contractions with each child that didn't end in delivery. Just long nights of laying awake. Here I was 39 weeks. So I just felt for sure that this had to be false labor. Although, I feel like false is a misnomer. My body was working hard.
We called Shelley and she came over after she was finished with her last client. She checked me and I was still the same. 2cm and 70%. She felt like if Scot would go get me some alcohol, like a glass of wine, they might go away. And that can work. Dr. Bell said they used to hook women up to grain alcohol IV's. He said obviously they don't do that anymore. Poor drunk babies and mommas. But a little alcohol can go along way to relax the uterus and the body. Alcohol was the very last thing I wanted in this moment. I was incredibly nauseous. VERY nauseous, in fact. Anything to make these contractions stop.
Scot ran to the local liquor store, picked up some Hard Mike's Lemonade, only thing I thought I could stomach. He said a police officer walked in and he felt like he needed to say, "this isn't for me! My wife's in labor and the midwife said she's needs this." We certainly had a good laugh when he got home. So with a drink in one hand, crackers in the other, I was able to get about three sips down. So much for that.
Shelley left about 10pm and encouraged me to just try to sleep. Scot and I watched part of a movie. Made the girls go to bed, promising we would let them know if anything happened. I was restless and tired. We decided to try and get some sleep. I kept a rice heating pad on my lower belly. And kept having to get up and heat it. I was miserable.
About 2 in the morning I decided that getting back in the bath was the only way to get comfortable. I was starting to breath slowly through some contractions. They didn't seem regular and they didn't seem close together, but they weren't stopping. Looking back at my handy dandy contraction app, I decided to start timing contractions at 2:53am. The next 30 minutes looked like this:
2:52 Duration: 1min25sec
2:56 Duration: 1min11sec Freq: 4min25sec
3:01 Duration: 1min46sec Freq: 4min41sec
So at this point, I'm thinking, "ok they are coming regular so far, but this isn't intolerable or anything."
3:07 Duration: 1min5sec Freq: 6min27sec
"I'm definitely not in real labor. These are erratic and some are this last one was nothing. Oh, I just wish this would go away. I'm SO tired."
3:09 Duration: 55sec Freq: 1min38sec
Suddenly, a little note pops up. You are having contractions at least 4 minutes apart lasting longer than 1 minute. You should start heading to the hospital.
I laughed. I didn't even know Contraction Master also bossed you around in labor. Or false labor. lol.
3:11 Duration: 1min7sec Freq: 2min31sec
And then it seemed like forever and this happened...
3:18 Duration: 2min27sec Freq: 6min16sec
Uh, yes my body had been gearing up for that one. I had to vocalize through that contraction and it occurred to me that maybe the Contraction Master knew something I didn't and I should go to the hospital. I thought to myself, "I could just stay in this bathtub and have a baby. But we have no supplies and we didn't plan for it and my husband will be really mad if he has to help me deliver. I'll time one more."
3:23 Duration: 1min22sec Freq: 5:35
And that one hurt, like the last one. And I pretty much thought that I could stay in that bath so long I might not have time to get to the hospital, end up having another baby in the tub, and a mad husband. So I got out of the bath. Put my clothes back on and woke my very sleepy husband. I told him I was tired of contracting and the last two contractions felt more serious. I was worried that I might be progressing and I knew he didn't want me to have the baby at home so we should probably at least go check and make sure nothing was happening.
We called our sweet neighbor to come sit with the kids until our babysitter could get there. I informed her I'd probably be back soon.
I had Scot pray for me before we got out of the car at the hospital. I was anxious and nervous. I didn't want to be in labor and I also did want to be in a labor. It was so weird. But he prayed and God's peace overwhelmed me. The contractions were spacing farther apart and didn't hurt at all.
We checked in on the 3rd floor Labor and Delivery window. I said, "uh, I'm in labor." I know they were thinking, yea right. But once the lady pulled up my info and everyone was now aware this was my 5th, they quickly got me to the observation room. I waddled down the hall, undressed in a flash, peed in a cup and complained about the observation room. It was the loud, earth shaking one right with an elevator running behind it. The nurse said she didn't think we would be in there long but sweetly moved me across the hall. Finally, she checked me in and then checked me. Da da dum.
"You're a good stretchy 5, " she says calmly.
A 5!! What!?? I honestly was shocked and I know looking back that my brain was in some sort of labor, transcendent, birth denial state, but I really was truly shocked. Scot was excited. He started the phone calls and got our bags. I continued in my denial state, slowly letting the news sink in as we moved to a labor and delivery suite. Now I was nervous again. All the questions I had been having about this moment were coming to a head.
We were in a hospital, not at home in my nice warm bath. We were using a doctor, not my precious and dearly loved midwife. There were unfamiliar faces everywhere, not my house abuzz with excitement and my sweet family and friend around. And the anxiety began to build. The hospital fire alarms were going off.
I asked my nurse, "do we need to exit the building?"
"Oh no," she said. "Just an irritating drill."
"At 5 am?" I said. "While women are in labor and babies are sleeping?" Like that's not happening all the time at a hospital. Labor brain.
"Yes, it's upsetting to everyone. We are hoping it stops soon, but they don't tell us."
Across the hall, screams can be heard of a momma in labor. Oh, she's not doing well. I learn it's her first baby and she's 1cm. Wow! Imagine the screams at 10.
Scot is finally back. Contractions are kicking into gear again and I finally have more bloody show.
"Pray for me," I plead. "I don't think I can do this here. I know we are where we are supposed to be, but I want to go home."
to be continued....
No comments:
Post a Comment