Thought I'd never blog again, did ya?
July 31st, 2012. (Times are approximate.)
2:00PM - 38w4d OB appointment. Found out that I was 5cm, 80% effaced. My lovely doctor decided to "stir up some trouble" by stripping my membranes. It wasn't nearly as bad as I thought it would be. Immediately upon leaving the doctor's office, I start feeling uncomfortable.
5:30PM - It begins to rain. The kids' football and cheerleading practices get cancelled. I take it as a sign that tonight would be a perfect night for a birth. I begin to have very infrequent, yet painful contractions. Le husband and I decided to head out to the mall and do some walking.
7:00PM - In the middle of the DVD section of Wal-Mart, I have one very uncomfortable contraction that takes my breath away. I demand that le husband take me home before I start moaning and people start staring. I begin to get the feeling that Rosie is definitely coming that night, though contractions are still not timeable.
7:30 - 9:30PM - Home. Try to time contractions while bouncing on my exercise ball and watching the Olympics. Contractions are coming anywhere between 6-15 minutes apart. And getting painful. Le husband spends half an hour trying to convince me to call the doctor, even though contractions are still too far apart to be considered active labor. I finally give in and make the call at 9:35PM.
9:40PM - Doctor calls back. He says to head in to the hospital. I finish grabbing a couple last minute things. Kiss the kids bye a couple million times.
10:00PM - Immediately upon pulling into the parking lot, I have a contraction that makes me rethink the whole "No Epidural" rule I had put into place.
10:05 - 10:10PM - Get escorted up to L&D. The nurses ask me if I have a history of quick labors. I answer, "I guess so." I grossly underestimate. The next half hour is a big blur honestly.
Nurse quickly checks me and I'm 6-7cm. Within two minutes of being checked, I begin shaking uncontrollably. I remember this feeling very well.
Transition. Oh crap.
There will be no time for pain relief. I begin to very vocally freak the freak out and insist that I cannot do this. In fact, I repeated it, loudly over and over again to all five nurses very quickly preparing me and my room for Rosie's impending arrival.
Nurse checks me again. 8-9cm dilated. Obviously, I'm still very vocally freaking the freak out.
Pop. Whooosh. Yep, my water just broke. Though burst with a gusto would be a more accurate description.
10:30ishPM - Doctor calmly whisks into the room. The nurses set me up to push. Three pushes later..
Rosalia is born.
Moral of the labor story? If I had waited until contractions were in the standard 3-1-1 pattern, I would have had a baby on my kitchen floor. I'm still amazed that only one hour had passed from the time I was told to head to the hospital until she was in my arms. The whole experience was fantastic. The nurses, my doctor, the hospital..they were all a Godsend.
I'd even wager to say I'd do it again??
Just kidding. (That loud thud was my husband dropping to the floor.)