On Monday, I started timing my contractions at 5:50 PM. They were 30 second and not very painful at all. By 7 PM they were 60 seconds, but I was still able to walk and talk through them. I called my mom and my sister to ask them if they would drive over to our house. I was pretty sure we were going to have this baby soon, and they were driving from the other side of the metroplex, so I went with a "better safe than sorry" attitude. At 8PM, I had a cluster of contractions three minutes apart, and decided to call the doctor. Because I still wasn't in much pain, he told me that it was entirely up to me as to whether I wanted to head to the hospital. He said it was counter intuitive, but to try to "stop" labor (i.e. drink water, stop walking, go to sleep). If it was the real thing, my body would let me know soon enough. From 9:30 - 11:00 I tried to sleep. I slept intermittently since my contractions were stretching out to ten minutes apart, but they were increasingly painful.
Suddenly, my body turned a corner, and every 4 minutes I was having intense contractions about 45 second in length. Trey and I headed to the hospital and signed in at 11:38 PM. I was in a lot of pain and it took a little while for the nurse to come in to check to see how dilated I was. With our last birth, I had checked into the hospital totally unsure as to whether I was in labor or not, and I was between a 6 and a 7, just about to head into transition. Now, I knew that I was in intense labor and I was anxious to find out what the nurse had to say. "3 and a half" Seriously? Were they going to send me home? I wouldn't go. I would sit in the car. I was in too much pain to be at a 3. Fortunately, when she checked a half hour later I was at a 5, so my body was progressing quickly. The nurse asked me to lay on my left side because the baby's heart rate was decreasing and so was mine. I started feeling very dizzy and woozy, and they put an oxygen mask on me. I asked for pain medicine since an epidural was out of the question, but I was sure I was going to pass out. The nurse realized that I was getting more and more light-headed and she had me switch to laying on my right side. Good gracious. That made a world of difference. I mistakenly thought she had already given me Fentanyl and that the pain medication had actually made me clear headed.
After laboring on the bed for a bit, I told the nurse that I needed to pee. To my delight, she told me she wanted me up and walking around anyway. She unplugged the contraction monitor and let me make my way to the bathroom. I felt a bit conflicted because I didn't know how to pee. What if I pushed out the baby? I know, that's a crazy thought. Instead, I just sat on the toilet trying to figure out how to pee without accidentally birthing my daughter in the bathroom. I started having contractions one on top of the other and I could not stand up. Suddenly, I realized that my body was actually trying to push. I was hesitant to tell Trey, totally mortified. "Something is wrong," I told him, willing him to read my mind. Finally, I just blurted out "My body is trying to push, Trey."
Trey called out for help and our friend Emily ran to the nurses station. The nurse came to help me get back to the bed but I couldn't move. I insisted that my body was trying to push the baby. Miraculously, I was pushed up onto the bed and immediately delivered the baby. No doctor in sight. Everyone was a bit in shock. All I could think was "I did this wrong. I did this wrong." I felt so apologetic. When you have a baby the doctor is supposed to be there. He's supposed to tell you that you're doing great, that you just have a few more pushes to go, and that soon you'll meet your sweet bundle of joy. You're not supposed to find yourself on the toilet in a panic with no nurse or doctor nearby.
In all the rush, it never occurred to me to wonder whether we'd had a boy or a girl. We'd waited 9 months for this surprise, and somehow, all I could think about was "Good gracious Father in Heaven, did I just give birth on accident?" I can't remember who first announced that it was a girl, but I didn't believe them. In the latter months of my pregnancy, I started to feel more and more like we were having a boy. It was a bit of a shock to have a girl, but such a good one. Elinor would have a sister, and I would have two sweet little girls. It's still hard for me to comprehend. Right after Piper's birth, my OB did make his entry. He had never before missed a birth from 50 feet away. It was a first for him. He said he was happy to hear the first cry, and that was enough. Miraculously, by the grace of God, we did not have the baby in the bathroom. And that I consider a Herculean feat!
