So its about time that I finally make this post!
Our little adventure started Saturday morning. I woke up with a horrible cramp in my lower right stomach area and it would NOT go away. It got so intense that I could barely walk, so we went ahead and went to Labor & Delivery – not because I thought I was in labor, but because I was worried about the pain. While I was mostly worrying, I had a small hope that maybe this was *it*. They gave me a stress test [they hook up monitors to baby and mom; for heart rate and contractions], only to conclude that we’re fine. I was sent home, with a clear mind knowing that everything was ok with baby.
Saturday night I started having irregular contractions. They were lasting about a minute long, but the timing was ALL over the map. I would have a couple at close intervals, but then they would stop and would occur every 7 or 8 minutes, then back again with close ones and at one point they stopped completely for almost an hour.
Sunday they started getting much stronger, yet still irregular time-wise. I did everything I could to take my mind off of them; showering, cooking, hanging out the with the family, etc. At around 5 pm they were becoming unbearable. We sat down to dinner, and up until a few days ago, I didn’t even know what had been served. I barely ate, and I apparently managed to block out a large part of the afternoon… The contractions were honestly the most painful things I had ever felt and at this time, they were coming in huge waves but only 5 minutes apart. I felt as though I needed to go to L&D, but was afraid of being turned away yet again. My husband finally called the triage center and they said to come in immediately. As if this is what my body needed to hear, my contractions started up on a regular 3 minute cycle. I was officially scared out of my mind at this point – between the pain and time I honestly did not know if we were going to make it to the hospital.
You know those scenes in a movie where you see a pregnant lady being pushed in a wheelchair down the hallway at a blazing speed; crying the entire way and on the brink of murdering someone? I WAS TOTALLY THAT LADY. I was whisked into triage, where I heard a nurse say I was 7 centimeters dilated, and that I needed to get to L&D as soon as possible. As if my body was taunting me, it went ahead and made the contractions even stronger, and closer in time. I don’t want to brag here, but I consider myself a badass on the pain scale. BELIEVE ME when I say that what I was feeling was a straight up 10 out of freaking 10 on the pain scale. It was to the point where after the contraction was done I literally felt like I was going to pass out. I quickly became the irrational biotch and turned into a MONSTER. I was on the brink of threatening the lives of everyone around me, asking for my husband’s hand then shooing it away, cursing [naturally]. I asked the nurse how quickly I would be getting an epidural, and from there she oh-so-calmly[but from a distance] told me that I might not be getting any. At that point, I didn’t know if I wanted to shift into “Ok, fine, LETS DO THIS” mode, or curl up into a ball and die. What I really did was roll my eyes and pray.
A few minutes later, I saw an angel came into the room dressed as an anesthesiologist. At this point in time I was far along enough that they didn’t know if an epidural would kick in with enough time, since they can take up to 45 minutes to take affect. They gave me an intrathecal, which instead would react immediately, but would maybe last an hour – so, being the low maintenance individual that I am, my particular situation meant that I would get both. Finally, I was pain free and it felt like a haze was lifted. I immediately started apologizing to everyone – I was positive that my husband was drafting divorce papers when I wasn’t looking.
Shortly afterward, my amazing nurse came in to initially put in a catheter, but walked right back out after realizing that I was ready to push. They broke my water, and from there, I pushed for about 15 minutes and we then welcomed our handsome little man into our world. I don’t want to disclose names or anything over the blog, but from here on out he will be known as Spud. I gave him this nickname a few hours after we came home because he will literally collapse onto your chest like a small sack of potatoes.
Luckily during all of this, my brother in law and his girlfriend were generous enough to spend the weekend with us. They’ll never know how much this meant to us, and having them here was downright amazing.
Hopefully I’ll have time soon to get some more up on the blog, but little man is calling! Thanks for all of your support and well wishes.