It all started on April 1st around 9ish. Michael and I were sitting in the living room, watching something on tv, when I noticed the silence in our apartment. I realized that the baby was gonna be here any day. I had a feeling all along that she was gonna come earlier rather than later. I looked over at Michael and realized that my alone time with him was going to become practically nonexistent. I suggested to him that maybe we should take advantage of our alone time...AKA lets get to sexing each other up!
After all was said and done, I started to feel cramps immediately. But I chalked it up to being pregnant and maybe the relations just hit something. We went to bed and I was feeling a slight numbing pain in my lower abdomen. Michael fell asleep in about .2 seconds, as his is usual fashion on a day to day basis. The man has a talent. But I lied awake with this mild pain. All of the sudden the pain started to go to my back. I didn't start thinking contractions yet because as it was explained to me, contractions came in and out and this pain was constant. I was still thinking it was some sort of punishment of trying to get my preggo groove on.
An hour later the pains were still there and still a bit constant. I looked up braxton hicks (false contractions) and it said the pain would either go away from moving in a different position or taking a warm bath. I had already moved in a bunch of different positions so I opted for the bath...and I DETEST baths, so you know I was desperate for some relief. I hopped in a warm bath for about 30 mins and the pain actually went away. So I then chalked up the pain to having a case of braxton hicks.
The MOMENT I got out of the tub, the pain started again. So I started to let myself entertain the idea that I MIGHT be going into labor. But I didn't want to get myself too psyched up. I didn't want to raise hope just to have it crushed and be told that I would have to wait weeks to meet my lil baby. I decided to wake Michael up finally, so that if anything, he could at least keep me company until the pain went away. We decided that we would watch a movie, but Michael had to poop first. This part is important, I promise lol.
So as Michael is sitting on the toilet, I'm walking around the living room, trying to keep a steady pace to my breathing. I noticed that the pain was starting to have more of a rhythm to it. Michael suggested that we start timing the pain to see if they were contractions. So there Michael is, sitting on the toilet. And there I am, a big round lady huffing and puffing around like a cow in heat. We tracked a few contractions in which Michael informed me that the pains he had tracked, if they were contractions, were two minutes apart. Now, mind you, we had learned in our child birth classes that once your contractions are 5 minutes apart you HAVE to go to the hospital. So needless to say, I needed to get my butt moving. In my stubborn fashion, I refused and told him I wanted to stay home as long as possible. I literally had ONE more contraction right after and said "Yeah babe, we need to go, NOW."
Michael cleaned up and ran out to go get the car. I don't really remember what happened in those few moments alone. I just remember being alone and not liking it. Michael came back in and I ran to the bathroom. When I pulled my pants down I realized there was a little liquid. I had a feeling this meant my water was breaking, but again, I didn't want to get my hopes up. BUT, I did poop. Which made me smile probably more than it should have. I had heard a lot of stories of mom's being embarrassed about pooping during labor, and although I really didn't care about that, I was glad it was one less thing I had to worry about.
After about a little over of 2 hours of laboring at home, we finally headed to the hospital and the pain was actually becoming excruciating and mildly unbearable. I started making loud OOOOOing sounds and grasping the car doors tightly. Luckily it was in the middle of the night, so Michael was able to drive pass all the red lights to get to the hospital that much faster. Even though we're only ten minutes away from the hospital, the ride felt like a lifetime!
We parked in the parking garage across the street from the hospital on the second floor. The elevator was a bit too far so we took the stairs down and went across. By this time, my pants were SOAKED, so obviously my water had slowly broken. On our walk to the hospital, I had to stop so many times because each contraction left me completely immobile. At this point they were definitely less than two minutes apart. We finally get to the maternity ward just to be told to go sit in the waiting room. Even though I was screaming in pain. Pregnancy and labor is not like the movies folks. A pregnant lady doesn't burst in and they wheel her straight off to deliver her baby.
I sat in the waiting room for 15 minutes but due to my medical state, it felt like 15 years. I started to feel a bit sick and ended up throwing up my whole dinner. After I couldn't puke anymore they finally brought me into a room, which I thought would be the labor room, but was just another place for me to wait. I was in my gown and the on call doctor and nurses kept asking me a lot of mundane, simple minded questions. Under any other circumstances, I could answer these questions without missing a beat. But when a little human being is trying to rip through your body, it makes it a bit more challenging. They kept asking me stupid questions like when my last period was, when I first started my period, if I lived in a walk up building or elevator, and other dumb ass questions. To this day, I still don't really understand why they were asking me alllll of those questions. But they did and I did my best to answer.
At the point of this interrogation, I was 5 cm. I couldn't believe how much pain I was in but I was at least feeling good that I was not too dilated so I could still get some kind of drugs. The interrogation continued and they gave me the IV, which I had to finish before they could give me the epidural. They said the IV would only take 15-30 minutes and moved me into the delivery room. Which I had to WALK to. Damn you hollywood for making me think that I could at least get flippin' wheeled over there!
By the time I got there I was in mind numbing pain and was gripping the bed with hulk like fashion. I started to feel like the baby was literally going to fall out so the doctor checked me again. My IV had JUST finished and I was measuring 8 cm. When she told me that, I did not skip a beat in asking "But I can still get the epidural, right!?!?!" She calmly broke the news to me that I was too far along and that I could not get any kind of drugs. I wish I could get a picture of this moment because I could feel my eyes literally bulge out of my head and my skin turn white. If I had the ability to cry, I would have. I turned to Michael just shaking my head vigorously, screaming "I can't do this! I'm going to die! This is going to kill me!!!!" But being the amazing husband he is, Michael continued to encourage me. After my 2 minute panic, I realized this baby was going to come out whether or I liked it or not so I might as well pull it together and try to make it as easy as possible.
With every contraction I gripped the bed with every fiber of my being. Side note: after delivery my shoulder and arm muscles hurt more than my vagina did. It felt like I had weight lifted 800 lbs of pure concrete. At one point, I gripped the bed with all my might and screamed "I'M GONNA BREAK THIS FUCKING BED!!!" The nurses laughed, but I was actually quite nervous. It wasn't a statement of action as it was more of a concern. I felt like that bed was my only physical anchor and if it did break than so was my body. Luckily, the beds are made for this type of use...thank god.
I then started to scream "She's coming out!!!" It felt like the baby was two seconds away from just crawling out herself. The doctor checked me again and said I wasn't quite 10 cm yet and I had to hold her in or I could cause serious damage to myself. So not only was I trying to keep this baby in when she wanted to come out, I was still having the contractions that made me feel like my body was going to break in half. I literally had to cross my legs just to keep her from coming out. It was nuts.
Then, the moment finally came. The doctor checked me again and said I could start pushing. They propped my legs up o the stirrup thingies and I began to push. Surprisingly enough, this was the part i had been fearing all along and it was the part that felt the best. Once I was allowed to push all pain went away. I didn't even feel the baby come out. I just felt a slight pressure in my vagina. But with every contraction that started, it immediately disappeared when I started to push.
No more than a few minutes later, Delilah came out and they set her on my tummy. A total of a little more than 4 and a half hours of labor and my little girl made her grand entrance at 4:49 am. I'll never forget that moment. I had seen so many videos of women crying and saying they were so happy to meet their little baby. I did not have that same feeling. I didn't really cry. Because when I laid my eyes on Delilah, it felt like I had met my soul mate. It felt like I had known her all my life and that she just had been away for a while. I felt so comfortable with her. And we were very lucky that day because there weren't really any other people in the ward so they didn't whisk her right away. We got to spend a full three hours with her in the delivery room before they took her off to the nursery. And they truly were the best three hours of my life.
I guess the rest, as they say, is history. And to think...I actually wanna do this all again :-)
