7:21 PM
Super bowl Sunday 2017, I had given up on trying to jump start labor because what 9 month pregnant lady wants to be doing squats? I’d rather sit on the couch in my pajamas and eat ice cream thank you very much. That night we ventured over to a Super Bowl party and I at all the snacks. As the evening passed friends asked how I was feeling (let’s not go into the real answer), and I explained that it felt like the calm before the storm…..
One single contraction. Goodness it jolted me awake (lets be real… 9 months pregnant I wasn’t really sleeping anyways). Here I am on one side of the bed grunting in pain while I tell my sleeping husband that I’m in labor. Must be nice to sleep through the screeching sounds of the women you love being ripped in two by the tiny human you created. (I kid, but after not sleeping for 9 months that’s what it felt like)
Well my husband rolled out of bed, grabbed our bags and herded me like a sheep to the car. That drive felt like an hour car ride, but we finally pulled up to the hospital. I busted out of that car and rolled my pregnant self to the desk. Endless paperwork, a breezy nightgown and an uncomfortable exam later I was hooked up and being monitored. The nurse who checked me asked how dilated I was at my last appointment. I lied and told her two centimeters (it really was 3 but I was determined to show I was progressing). That lady had the nerve to tell me I was still at two centimeters. After walking for an hour she checked me again and insisted with attitude I was still at two centimeters (insert annoyed eye roll here).
We were sent home to wait until active labor, and were informed it could still be a few days. At this point it was almost 7:00 AM. I crawled in bed and my husband got ready for work (because clearly the nurse was determined I wasn’t having a baby today). My restless sleep lasted until 10 AM when I was jolted awake with miserable pains. Clearly I just needed to get up and walk it off right? That’s what all of the books and movies say. Well maybe I’m weak and can’t tolerate pain, but I made it down 3 stairs before I was hunched over in pain. After some troubling symptoms I called my doctor and was told to go back to the hospital.
I texted my husband, then called, then texted again. I knew he had a 45 minute drive home, and then we had a 30 min drive to the hospital. Somehow I was supposed to survive by myself for that entire time without a breakdown. Well about 20 minutes after he left I called to see how far away he was. He didn’t answer. I called again, no answer. Finally I called a third time and left him a voicemail. I informed that man that he better call me back and get his butt home or I would be calling myself an ambulance (women in labor are such kind people). Well he made it home and we headed to the hospital. The entire drive there I was determined that I was having the baby on the side of the road. Needless to say we made it to the hospital, and I busted out the car and rolled my pregnant self to the desk. The sweet lady had the nerve to ask me to fill out paperwork again. Obviously I declined and said my husband could handle it. They showed me to a triage room where I immediately took my clothes off.
After what felt like hours we finally made it to labor and delivery. The anesthesiologist finally made his way to my room and gave me the epidural I had been begging for. He made this snide comment about how I should get comfortable. Just what I wanted to hear! He told me most moms labor for hours before giving birth. My husband headed out to get come caffeine (since he had been awake since 3 am) As he left the room my nurse began to check me and quickly informed me I was dilated to 9 1/2 and she would be calling my doctor. The doctor arrived before my husband had come back and informed me I could push anytime. I elected to wait until my husband got his behind back in the room.
Less than an hour later the doctor told me it was time to push. My nurse, doctor and husband were the most supportive team I could have asked for. After 30 minutes of pushing our son was ready to join us in the world. One contraction, and three pushes is all it took for that beautiful boy to be in my husbands arms. YES my husband caught the baby. Three pushes; that last contraction delivered my son right into his fathers arms. Which means he saw WAY more than I wanted him to, but I wouldn’t have it any other way. Plus we just don’t ever discuss specifics.
Nine months this child was growing and thriving inside of me. Over those nine months I developed a bond with that child, and I wanted my husband to have an immediate bond too. We didn’t have a birth plan; I didn’t have music or breathing exercises. I had my husband, and now I have my son. Just because you don’t plan the perfect birth doesn’t mean your birth won’t be perfect.
