Friday, October 14, 2016

4:40 PM - I hung up the phone after ordering the boys’ usual Friday night dinner from Little Caesar’s—one cheese pizza with an order of crazy bread and sauce. (I had already placed an order for a more “sophisticated” pizza from Papa Murphy’s for me and Dan.) As I was about to put the phone back on its charger, I felt the warm gush. I had never had my water break with any of my previous babies, but I knew exactly what it was. Uh-oh. I thought, my mind reverting to two-word sentences. Oh no. Oh no. Oh no. 36 weeks. Too early. Call Dan.

I called Dan at work and told him that I thought my water had just broken. No, actually, I knew my water had broken. He said he’d come home as fast as he could, and I hung up with him, so I could call my doctor's office. The office had closed at 4:00, of course, so I left a message with for the on-call nurse to call me back. I don’t remember my exact words, but I do know that my message was panicky and rambling. I remembered to leave my date of birth and name, but, after I hung up, I wondered if I had left my phone number. Surely, I must have, right? My next phone call was to my parents, telling them that my water had broken, and I needed them to come quickly to stay with the boys.

Conner was outside happily raking and playing in the leaves with his neighborhood friends. Shane and Logan were in the living room watching an episode of Backyardigans. I told Shane that the baby was coming, so they all needed to be good helpers. (He’s always a good helper, but I just had to say it. :-))

I hustled upstairs to start packing my bag. (Nope, I still hadn’t packed it yet! Even after I had gone into labor with Logan [our third child] without a packed bag [one of the many reasons I arrived at the hospital 8 cm dilated] and promised myself that I would definitely be prepared this time, I still had not packed it. On the bright side, I did have a nearly completed packing list typed out on Microsoft Word. So at least that’s one improvement over last time! I had also made a tentative “Go-Time” plan with our parents and had typed out and distributed the boys’ packing lists and schedules. So I wasn’t totally unprepared. Ahem.) Anyway, I was so distraught, though, that I totally forgot about the list I had prepared and just started tossing things on the bed that I knew I would need.

The phone rang, and it was the on-call nurse from my doctor's office. “Is this Kristin?” she asked. “Your water just broke?”

“Yes!” I said.

“Oh, good, I guessed correctly. Did you know you forgot to leave your phone number in your message?” (Womp-womp.)

The nurse instructed me to come to the hospital right away and gave me directions about where to enter.

I am so thankful that Dan works only a few minutes away from home, so it wasn’t long at all before he pulled into our garage. I could tell that he was flustered as well, but at least he had the presence of mind to remind me about the list I had typed on the computer. He brought up some bags from the basement, and we chose the strategy of divide and conquer. I started at the top of my list, and he picked a spot half-way, and we both worked downward. When we were finished with my bag, I tossed a couple outfits (one sized Newborn and one 0-3 months) in a smaller bag for Baby, and Dan worked on packing a duffle for himself.

By the time we were done packing, my dad’s white pick-up truck was pulling into our driveway. I’m always amazed by how quickly my parents can come to our house when I tell them, “It’s time.” (They live in the country about 15-20 minutes away.) I guess my mom didn’t have her bag packed yet either, but they still managed to get here in an impressive amount of time! The boys eagerly pressed their noses against the window as Nana and Papa stepped onto the driveway.

As all of this was going on, intermittent warm gushes reminded me that I was on the clock to get to the hospital. I hadn’t felt any contractions to speak of, but there was no mistaking what was going on. My dad couldn’t get us out of the house fast enough. He stationed himself by the door, ordering us to “Go!” in a variety of ways. (Goodness, I really must have given everyone a scare with my last labor/delivery, ha-ha!) Dan quickly tried installing the infant carseat base into our Saturn Vue, but decided to do it later and hurried to put a towel down for me instead. I told the boys I loved them, gave them kisses, and headed out the door, (to the soundtrack of my dad’s, “Go, Kristin, go!”). On the way out, I grabbed a framed picture of all three boys and almost forgot my purse in the rush.

5:30 PM - In order to avoid highway traffic and possible train delays, Dan took a different route than normal. I putzed on my phone to distract myself. When I looked up, I said, “We’ve been driving all this time, and we’re only here? (Poor Dan. I can get extra-critical when I’m stressed.)

“We’ve avoided the trains and traffic,” he said. “Don’t worry. We’ll make it to the hospital in plenty of time.”

A few minutes later, we saw a police officer parked in the middle of road, rerouting traffic to the east. We saw lots of other travelers being rerouted, and the downtown area was packed with people, primarily high schoolers, hustling this way or that.

“What is going on?” I asked. And then I remembered. Conner had told me that his buddy next door had to go inside to get ready for the parade. There was an honest-to-goodness parade between me and the hospital. It’s one of those things that is just too clichéd—too “made for a sitcom”—to possibly be real life.

“Oh my gosh,” I said, frantically. “Dan, it’s the homecoming parade!”

“Don’t worry,” he said calmly. “I’ll get us there in plenty of time.” Another thing for which I am very thankful is my husband’s knowledge of streets and various routes to get places. (Something I sorely lack.)

As I stared out the window at the various floats and all the happy-looking people who weren’t having a baby, I tried hard not to panic. True to his word, Dan found a clear route, and soon he was dropping me off near the Emergency Room entrance.

I guess my doctor’s office hadn’t notified the hospital that I was coming, because they were surprised by our arrival. After checking in, I was settled into a wheelchair and rolled to the Family Birth Care floor by a kind-looking man with long gray hair who was certified to deliver babies. As we rode in the elevator, he told us how he had delivered a baby in that exact elevator only a week before. Even though I still hadn’t felt any regular contractions, the story was still enough to make me gulp. Hard.

6:21 PM – We were settled into delivery room 334. I noticed that another woman’s name was scrawled across the whiteboard, along with the name of a different doctor. I silently pointed this out to Dan.

The nurse, a young blonde woman, was running a test on the fluid I was leaking to be sure it was amniotic fluid. (I’m not exactly sure what else they thought it might be, but I guess it’s standard protocol.)

Dan looked at the nurse. “Are we going to be moved to a different room?”

“No, this is the delivery room,” she said.

Dan gestured toward the whiteboard.

“Oh! Someone else notified us that she was coming, but you beat her here.”

I don’t know why, but I felt a little guilty… I hadn’t meant to take someone else’s room!

The nurse concluded her test and pronounced me officially in labor. Next, she busied herself hooking me up to monitors and preparing my IV. Because having an IV in my arm would make it difficult and painful to hold a baby, the IV was to be inserted into the top of my hand. I could tell by the way the nurse took a big breath before inserting the needle that she wasn’t terribly confident in inserting IVs. Uh-oh. The nurse tried my right hand first. Oh my goodness, was that painful. (And I have a pretty high pain tolerance!) She said she hit a valve and had to pull it out and try the other hand. (Nooooooo!) That was just as painful as the first and with the same result… She said she hit another valve and had to pull it out. (Owwww!) Thankfully, she called in another nurse who was more experienced and confident. Since both my hands had been abused, the second nurse had to move farther up, closer to my wrist. It wasn’t nearly as painful as the first two attempts, and it was a success! I felt bad for the first nurse, who looked a bit sheepish. I’m guessing she just needs more experience, since, judging by her badge, she is only recently out of Nursing School. (Dan and I have been re-watching episodes of Sherlock lately, so my observation skills are keener than usual, ha-ha!)

When I was hooked up to the IV, the nurse checked to see how far my cervix had dilated. 3 cm. I wasn’t exactly surprised, since I still hadn’t felt much in the way of contractions, but it was a bit disappointing, since I had been at 2 cm a few days before at my last appointment with my obstetrician.

My doctor popped into the room to chat. He predicted that I would start having contractions at any time, and once I hit 5 or 6 centimeters, the whole process of labor would speed right along. He laughed and said that he is often wrong with his predictions, but he guessed that the baby would be here around midnight. He headed back to his house, which is just a few minutes from the hospital, and instructed the nurse to let him know when I was dilated to 8 cm. Now, all Dan and I had to do was wait for my body to get the memo that this baby was coming and start contracting! In the meantime, the nurse would continue to check the baby’s heartrate and my vitals every 30 minutes. She explained that she would be checking the progress of my dilation infrequently, since my water had broken and each check held the possibility of introducing germs to the baby.

Saturday, October 15, 2016

Waiting is hard. I continued to leak fluid, but, although I felt a quick, sharp pain every 30 minutes or so, I knew my body wasn’t laboring to the point of being productive. Dan and I had forgotten to bring a deck of cards. The Family Birth Center didn’t have one, and the gift shop was closed. We flipped through the TV channels. We dismissed the horror-type shows, and I said no thanks to college football (although I’m sure Dan would have happily watched), and finally settled on a marathon of Diners, Drive-Ins, and Dives, which is not the best choice when you are hungry. (I never did get that pizza I had ordered for dinner!) The two cups of Jell-O and broth were hardly satisfying. Sigh. I couldn’t stand watching people eat delicious food anymore, so I figured it would be a good time to introduce Dan to Gilmore Girls. He could hardly say no, since I was about to have his baby, right? He’s such a good sport. We watched an episode, and I still didn’t seem to be any closer to having our baby. Needing more of a distraction that the mother-daughter conflict between Lorelai and Rory, I suggested we watch another episode of Sherlock. It’s not exactly the most wholesome choice for welcoming a baby into the world, but at least it would keep my mind on something other than why my body wasn’t cooperating!

2:21 AM - When we had finished the episode, the nurse checked me again to make sure I wasn’t dilating without realizing it. Although she could tell that the baby’s head had moved down, I was still only 3 cm dilated. We finally decided to try and get some rest. Dan curled up on the dark green vinyl couch, and I could tell from his snores that he was able to catch some Zs. I think I slept a little too, although it was difficult with the nurse coming in and checking my vitals every 30 minutes.

5:50 AM – I was measuring 4 cm now (some progress), but not enough for me or my doctor. He instructed the nurse to administer a low dose of Pitocin into my IV to kick-start my contractions.

7:10 AM - The Pitocin worked quickly, and I had dilated to 5 cm. The contractions were coming hard and fast now, and I told the nurse I was ready for my epidural.

To be continued...

Read {Part 2} here.