You might not believe it. But really, you can ask J, his mom, teachers, friends, and many random strangers we've been in elevators or standing in lines with. And they will tell you it's true.
For months, Little One has been announcing to everyone who would listen: "Mommy haves a baby boy in hers tummy! It's a brother! He's coming on December 7."
We would gently correct Her; He's due on the 12th, love. Not the 7th.
"But that's when He's coming."
We figured She guessed 7 because it's the day of the month Her own birthday falls on. Or maybe She confused the date with the AFC Charity Benefit, since we'd told Her I'd be traveling to DC that day to volunteer, as I do every year. Whatever the reason, She stuck to Her prediction. On December 6th, as I prepared for my trip, we all joked. Wouldn't it be so funny if She was right and the baby suddenly came the day of The Event? I mean. What are the chances.
On the 6th, I woke up full of energy. I had a lot to do to get ready for my trip. All day my Mother In Law kept saying, "Don't you ever stop? Won't you sit down for just a minute?!" But I didn't.
I emptied and scrubbed and vacuumed the inside of the car. I rearranged the car seats; one, two, three. I cleaned out all the the kids' closets, organizing by size and season, folding and hanging. I did six loads of laundry. Organized the pantry. Took out the recycling. Cleaned the house top to bottom, hauling the vacuum up the stairs. Hauling it back down. I got out all the baby stuff from the garage; I washed the bottles and the teethers and the crinkly toys. Cleaned up and swept the garage while I was at it. I finished up some wrapping and decorating, I started the holiday cards. I painted my toenails. At- no kidding- 9pm, my generous MIL accompanied me shopping so I could wrap up a gift for the birthday party the Littles were attending later that weekend. I just needed to get stuff done. All the while I noticed that the Braxton-Hicks contractions I've had so many of this pregnancy were a little stronger than usual. But I didn't think much of it, until around the time we were walking the store that evening. "You've dropped," my MIL noticed, "like, way dropped." I did feel like I was waddling around. I did feel a lot of those practice contractions.
Hmm, I thought.
Nah.
But then, ouch. Hmmm.....
By around eleven PM I was writing them down, timing them. Just to see.
"Is it today?", J asked.
"NO. It is NOT today. I'm going to DC in the morning. I'm going to the event."
J gave me a certain smile. "Ok." He said. But, like Little One, he knew.
By midnight there was no more denying it. The contractions were strong and the list I'd been keeping read one every ten minutes like clockwork.
"So. Today?"
"Maybe."
I walked around the house awhile. The list read- five minutes, five minutes, five minutes.
But guys. It was late. And after all that productivity all day, I was dead tired. I mean, SO tired.
I laid down. They spaced out again. All night, the contractions got stronger and more painful. But the timing didn't budge- ten minutes, ten minutes.
I tried to rest between them, but it was a long night. As the sun came up, I was struggling through each one, wondering how long this was going to take, for goodness' sake. The Littles came bounding in, bubbling with hugs and cuddles and can-we-please-have-waffles-it's-Saturday! And looking at me funny when I would suddenly sit up straight and take deep breaths.
J took them down to eat and kept checking in on me. I was sitting in bed, just waiting out contractions. They were really strong, now.
"Why don't you take a hot shower?" J suggested. "It helped you the other times."
"Ok, but will you stay? I'll call out when a contraction starts and you can help me keep timing them."
I stood up. I had two contractions just walking across the room. That was weird.
I got into the hot water. But, just like that, the contractions had gone from 10 minutes apart to two minutes apart. I was in the shower yelling- "another one! ....And now!... NOW!" After about ten minutes J came in and told me to get out. But I didn't want to.
"The hot water just helps so much though."
"GET OUT. GET DRESSED."
J does not often, in fact basically does not ever, outright order me around. But he knew. Thank goodness for J.
I got dressed and, because I am apparently myself even when in transition-stage labor, stood there putting on my mascara and brushing my hair with contractions coming one minute apart.
"GET IN THE CAR!" J was almost yelling now.
I put on my favorite new maternity/nursing dress, so I could wear it at the hospital, after.
"GET. IN. THE.CAR."
I got in the car. A contraction came on, stronger than ever.
"Whoa...J. J!! We're not going to make it. We're never going to make it!"
"I know! That's why I said to get in the car!"
"AHH! J! Drive faster. DRIVE FASTER!"
J was racing along the freeway, thankfully free of traffic for once.
A contraction would hit and I would start hollering,
"It's too hot in hereTooHotTooHot!!!"
He rolled the window down.
"NOOOOO! NO NotGoodEitherThatIsNOT GOOD EITHER!"
It would pass.
"Sorry. Sorry J. Yelling helps. It just does."
"I know."
"Don't pay attention I don't mean to yell at you"
"I know that, love, it's ok."
"AHHH! WHY-IS-IT-SO-HOT-DRIVE-FASTER!"
And so it went. It became very real to me how close to having a baby we really were. I remembered Little Miss, and began to become seriously concerned that this baby was going to be born in the downtown tunnel.
But He wasn't. We made it to the hospital and parked the car. And then, because this is how patient-friendly this hospital is, I got to walk. Across the parking garage. Down the long hallway. Through the pharmacy, where the pregnant lady and her friend stood with their small children cooing to them, "Look! Look, guys, that lady's going to have a baby! She's having a...yikes don't have it here in the hallway."
I was not yelling, now. I was walking, very slowly. A contraction would come on and I would stare at the floor and take a deep, silent breath, and think to myself, "Keep walking. Keep walking. Keep walking." And I did.
At the elevator, the mothers let us on first. "Go ahead, we'll take the next one. Good luck!"
Some hospital staff person got on with us. "I'm guessing four?" She said. Labor and Delivery.
We nodded. The doors opened and we got off. I was squeezing the bajeezus out of poor J's hand.
We realized it was the wrong floor. The lady had gotten off on three. We waited for the elevator again. We finally made it to labor and delivery, though, and I could (TMI alert) actually feel the baby at this point. We walked up to the window where the nurse was sipping a coffee, looking at a computer screen.
We stood there.
She sat there.
We stood there.
contraction. "HI! Hi, hello?" Deep breaths.
"Yes? Can I help you with something."
I looked at her like she had five heads.
"I'm having a baby." Deep breaths. Deeeeep breath.
"ok....?"
I started wondering which one of us was crazy.
"This is labor and delivery, right? I mean..." contraction. "I'M HAVING A BABY RIGHT. NOW!!!"
She got annoyed with my rudeness. She took a sip of her coffee.
"Ok, well, if you'll just take a seat over there, I'll get your paperwork together."
I could feel the baby's head. I pressed my hands on the counter.
"I don't think you understand." contraction. "I REALLY THINK YOU SHOULD LET ME BACK! I REALLY NEED TO GO BACK NOW!"
J tried to calm me down, he stepped to the window to try to talk to her.
She blinked twice, very slowly. She handed J a clipboard.
"If you'll just complete this paperwork, then I will let triage know you have arrived."
Triage. Triage?! I looked at the form. I could barely see through the blur of pain from another contraction, but the thing seriously had like 50 questions. It might as well have been a biochemistry final exam. J's pen was flying over it and I was ready to kill people.
"NO! NO! THIS BABY IS COMING! IT'S COMING NOW!"
The nurse looked at me and sipped her coffee. She didn't say a thing.
This is the point when some kind of instinctive delirium took over. I felt the baby coming and I knew it was time and any slight grasp on reason or logic I'd been clinging to was gone. I went over to the locked double doors to the delivery deck and began screaming.
"HELP! HELP ME! PLEASE! PLEASE SOMEONE HELP!!!"
The doors swung open and some visibly annoyed nurses rushed over.
"Ok, ok. Calm down, please. Lets get you into triage and- " contraction.
"AH! THE BABY IS COMING! IT IS COMING!"
"-and we will see if you are dilated. Do you need to use the restroom first?"
This was such an insane question to me at that moment that it totally threw me off.
"What? No! Wait yes. No. Yes. NOOOOOO!!! THE BABY IS COMING HELP!"
They pulled me into triage and as I climbed onto the bed, my water broke.
It was the end of that lovely dress I'd bothered changing into.
Suddenly, there was a rush of activity. I was flying down a hallway and someone was yelling out "Meconium! Meconium!" and I was looking around for J and calling "Is my baby ok? Is he ok??" We got into the delivery room and they were telling me to get off the stretcher onto the bed.
These people, guys. I had been doing everything within my power, I mean everything, since the moment we left the house to hold that baby in. But we'd made it to the delivery room. And the fact that they were asking me to get up and move told me they were all freaking insane and would never get it, and I decided in that moment: the hell with you people. And I stopped trying so hard to hold him in. I just closed my eyes and did nothing.
So, as the nurses were lifting me from the stretcher to the bed- literally in midair- the baby's head popped out. The moment I was on the bed someone said "ok push!" and I did, and the rest of the baby was out. We had made it just in the nick of time. We had a son.
Born after almost 14 hours of labor, yet all at once. With a fairly dramatic entrance, weighing exactly seven pounds. And born (with no regard whatsoever for my weekend plans, just as His sister predicted) on the seventh.
Did I ever tell you? Seven happens to be my lucky number.
For months, Little One has been announcing to everyone who would listen: "Mommy haves a baby boy in hers tummy! It's a brother! He's coming on December 7."
We would gently correct Her; He's due on the 12th, love. Not the 7th.
"But that's when He's coming."
We figured She guessed 7 because it's the day of the month Her own birthday falls on. Or maybe She confused the date with the AFC Charity Benefit, since we'd told Her I'd be traveling to DC that day to volunteer, as I do every year. Whatever the reason, She stuck to Her prediction. On December 6th, as I prepared for my trip, we all joked. Wouldn't it be so funny if She was right and the baby suddenly came the day of The Event? I mean. What are the chances.
On the 6th, I woke up full of energy. I had a lot to do to get ready for my trip. All day my Mother In Law kept saying, "Don't you ever stop? Won't you sit down for just a minute?!" But I didn't.
I emptied and scrubbed and vacuumed the inside of the car. I rearranged the car seats; one, two, three. I cleaned out all the the kids' closets, organizing by size and season, folding and hanging. I did six loads of laundry. Organized the pantry. Took out the recycling. Cleaned the house top to bottom, hauling the vacuum up the stairs. Hauling it back down. I got out all the baby stuff from the garage; I washed the bottles and the teethers and the crinkly toys. Cleaned up and swept the garage while I was at it. I finished up some wrapping and decorating, I started the holiday cards. I painted my toenails. At- no kidding- 9pm, my generous MIL accompanied me shopping so I could wrap up a gift for the birthday party the Littles were attending later that weekend. I just needed to get stuff done. All the while I noticed that the Braxton-Hicks contractions I've had so many of this pregnancy were a little stronger than usual. But I didn't think much of it, until around the time we were walking the store that evening. "You've dropped," my MIL noticed, "like, way dropped." I did feel like I was waddling around. I did feel a lot of those practice contractions.
Hmm, I thought.
Nah.
But then, ouch. Hmmm.....
By around eleven PM I was writing them down, timing them. Just to see.
"Is it today?", J asked.
"NO. It is NOT today. I'm going to DC in the morning. I'm going to the event."
J gave me a certain smile. "Ok." He said. But, like Little One, he knew.
By midnight there was no more denying it. The contractions were strong and the list I'd been keeping read one every ten minutes like clockwork.
"So. Today?"
"Maybe."
I walked around the house awhile. The list read- five minutes, five minutes, five minutes.
But guys. It was late. And after all that productivity all day, I was dead tired. I mean, SO tired.
I laid down. They spaced out again. All night, the contractions got stronger and more painful. But the timing didn't budge- ten minutes, ten minutes.
I tried to rest between them, but it was a long night. As the sun came up, I was struggling through each one, wondering how long this was going to take, for goodness' sake. The Littles came bounding in, bubbling with hugs and cuddles and can-we-please-have-waffles-it's-Saturday! And looking at me funny when I would suddenly sit up straight and take deep breaths.
J took them down to eat and kept checking in on me. I was sitting in bed, just waiting out contractions. They were really strong, now.
"Why don't you take a hot shower?" J suggested. "It helped you the other times."
"Ok, but will you stay? I'll call out when a contraction starts and you can help me keep timing them."
I stood up. I had two contractions just walking across the room. That was weird.
I got into the hot water. But, just like that, the contractions had gone from 10 minutes apart to two minutes apart. I was in the shower yelling- "another one! ....And now!... NOW!" After about ten minutes J came in and told me to get out. But I didn't want to.
"The hot water just helps so much though."
"GET OUT. GET DRESSED."
J does not often, in fact basically does not ever, outright order me around. But he knew. Thank goodness for J.
I got dressed and, because I am apparently myself even when in transition-stage labor, stood there putting on my mascara and brushing my hair with contractions coming one minute apart.
"GET IN THE CAR!" J was almost yelling now.
I put on my favorite new maternity/nursing dress, so I could wear it at the hospital, after.
"GET. IN. THE.CAR."
I got in the car. A contraction came on, stronger than ever.
"Whoa...J. J!! We're not going to make it. We're never going to make it!"
"I know! That's why I said to get in the car!"
"AHH! J! Drive faster. DRIVE FASTER!"
J was racing along the freeway, thankfully free of traffic for once.
A contraction would hit and I would start hollering,
"It's too hot in hereTooHotTooHot!!!"
He rolled the window down.
"NOOOOO! NO NotGoodEitherThatIsNOT GOOD EITHER!"
It would pass.
"Sorry. Sorry J. Yelling helps. It just does."
"I know."
"Don't pay attention I don't mean to yell at you"
"I know that, love, it's ok."
"AHHH! WHY-IS-IT-SO-HOT-DRIVE-FASTER!"
And so it went. It became very real to me how close to having a baby we really were. I remembered Little Miss, and began to become seriously concerned that this baby was going to be born in the downtown tunnel.
But He wasn't. We made it to the hospital and parked the car. And then, because this is how patient-friendly this hospital is, I got to walk. Across the parking garage. Down the long hallway. Through the pharmacy, where the pregnant lady and her friend stood with their small children cooing to them, "Look! Look, guys, that lady's going to have a baby! She's having a...yikes don't have it here in the hallway."
I was not yelling, now. I was walking, very slowly. A contraction would come on and I would stare at the floor and take a deep, silent breath, and think to myself, "Keep walking. Keep walking. Keep walking." And I did.
At the elevator, the mothers let us on first. "Go ahead, we'll take the next one. Good luck!"
Some hospital staff person got on with us. "I'm guessing four?" She said. Labor and Delivery.
We nodded. The doors opened and we got off. I was squeezing the bajeezus out of poor J's hand.
We realized it was the wrong floor. The lady had gotten off on three. We waited for the elevator again. We finally made it to labor and delivery, though, and I could (TMI alert) actually feel the baby at this point. We walked up to the window where the nurse was sipping a coffee, looking at a computer screen.
We stood there.
She sat there.
We stood there.
contraction. "HI! Hi, hello?" Deep breaths.
"Yes? Can I help you with something."
I looked at her like she had five heads.
"I'm having a baby." Deep breaths. Deeeeep breath.
"ok....?"
I started wondering which one of us was crazy.
"This is labor and delivery, right? I mean..." contraction. "I'M HAVING A BABY RIGHT. NOW!!!"
She got annoyed with my rudeness. She took a sip of her coffee.
"Ok, well, if you'll just take a seat over there, I'll get your paperwork together."
I could feel the baby's head. I pressed my hands on the counter.
"I don't think you understand." contraction. "I REALLY THINK YOU SHOULD LET ME BACK! I REALLY NEED TO GO BACK NOW!"
J tried to calm me down, he stepped to the window to try to talk to her.
She blinked twice, very slowly. She handed J a clipboard.
"If you'll just complete this paperwork, then I will let triage know you have arrived."
Triage. Triage?! I looked at the form. I could barely see through the blur of pain from another contraction, but the thing seriously had like 50 questions. It might as well have been a biochemistry final exam. J's pen was flying over it and I was ready to kill people.
"NO! NO! THIS BABY IS COMING! IT'S COMING NOW!"
The nurse looked at me and sipped her coffee. She didn't say a thing.
This is the point when some kind of instinctive delirium took over. I felt the baby coming and I knew it was time and any slight grasp on reason or logic I'd been clinging to was gone. I went over to the locked double doors to the delivery deck and began screaming.
"HELP! HELP ME! PLEASE! PLEASE SOMEONE HELP!!!"
The doors swung open and some visibly annoyed nurses rushed over.
"Ok, ok. Calm down, please. Lets get you into triage and- " contraction.
"AH! THE BABY IS COMING! IT IS COMING!"
"-and we will see if you are dilated. Do you need to use the restroom first?"
This was such an insane question to me at that moment that it totally threw me off.
"What? No! Wait yes. No. Yes. NOOOOOO!!! THE BABY IS COMING HELP!"
They pulled me into triage and as I climbed onto the bed, my water broke.
It was the end of that lovely dress I'd bothered changing into.
Suddenly, there was a rush of activity. I was flying down a hallway and someone was yelling out "Meconium! Meconium!" and I was looking around for J and calling "Is my baby ok? Is he ok??" We got into the delivery room and they were telling me to get off the stretcher onto the bed.
These people, guys. I had been doing everything within my power, I mean everything, since the moment we left the house to hold that baby in. But we'd made it to the delivery room. And the fact that they were asking me to get up and move told me they were all freaking insane and would never get it, and I decided in that moment: the hell with you people. And I stopped trying so hard to hold him in. I just closed my eyes and did nothing.
So, as the nurses were lifting me from the stretcher to the bed- literally in midair- the baby's head popped out. The moment I was on the bed someone said "ok push!" and I did, and the rest of the baby was out. We had made it just in the nick of time. We had a son.
Born after almost 14 hours of labor, yet all at once. With a fairly dramatic entrance, weighing exactly seven pounds. And born (with no regard whatsoever for my weekend plans, just as His sister predicted) on the seventh.
Did I ever tell you? Seven happens to be my lucky number.
What an entrance for an awesome little man!
ReplyDeleteCongrats C. I hope to be like you and have all natural childbirth.
ReplyDeletehe's gorgeous. so beautiful.
ReplyDelete